UNder the reigne of our great HENRY, the valorous father of our invincible Monarch, there lived in France a young Lord, whose Heroick Noblenesse was more recommended through the glory of his Vertue, than by the antiquity of his Race: Hee was called Cleander; rich both in the goods of Fortune and Nature; being no lesse beloved for his Beauty, than feared for his Valour. If hee were valiant, hee was also more wise; and if hee were wise, hee was also more happy. But his chiefest happinesse was in his marriage: for in his first youth his merits had gained him a wife, one of the fairest that France ever brought forth. The East had never so many Pearles as shee had Beauties, and the morning did blush to behold any thing fairer; she was called Calista: nei­ther [Page 2] was there any thing wanting but an apt name to ex­presse her perfections. With this woman did Cleander passe the sweetest life that ever fell into mans imagination; enjoying a happinesse which cannot bee comprehended but by mindes capable of the glory of such thoughts. The Sunne did never looke upon the earth, but he beheld these two Lo­vers embracing; Neither did night ever kindle so many fires in Heaven, as they felt within their soules. Their desires were not like unto those which were drowned in their plea­sures; but contrariwise, their loves were sharpned by enjoy­ing: for the more they did possesse that which they did de­sire, the more they did desire that which they did pos­sesse.

But darke night followed this bright day, and this cleere­nesse was clouded; yea, even whilst Cleander made the earth envious, and the heavens jealous of the favours hee re­ceived from his Mistresse: There was another Knight cal­led Lisander, who in courtesie and valour gave place to none of his yeares, who had beheld Calista's excellent beautie; with the lightning whereof hee was so amazed, that hee cleane lost the remembrance of himselfe. Hee was now no more that Lisander, whose free and warlike mind was wont to apprehend no disturbance but ambition; for in stead of breathing forth an honourable desire of glory, hee was so possest with the Idea of this perfection, that it was not possi­ble for him to receive any other thought; nay, hardly could hee finde a place in all his minde for himselfe. This new guest thus lodged in Lisanders heart, counselled him to see his Lady. Now this Knight was a most absolute Gentle­man, and a most acceptable companion, especially among Ladies, of a sweet and courteous conversation, full of attra­ction, and recommended with so many excellent parts, as well of body as of minde, that it seemed Love had stollen into this man, of purpose (if it were possible) to ruine Ca­lista's chastity: for there was appearance, that if shee could love any thing, it must needs be him, who loved nothing but her; and that if she had not a heart of stone, shee must needs be apprehensive of his torment. But for as much as hee could [Page 3] not well acquaint himselfe with this woman without ac­costing the husband, he first sought Cleanders friendship; who held it for an honour, and prevented his suit, recompencing Lisanders feigned, with true affection. He seldome spake but of him, nor ever made any good relation if Lisander were not the subject thereof. Calista her selfe, who saw not but by her husbands eyes, nor judged but by his knowledge, could not choose but honour that, which shee saw Cleander loved; she being otherwise by Lisander adored with so much respect, that she should have wanted humanity, if shee had been with out discerning thereof.

Behold here a faire beginning for our Lover; but this is nothing without perseverance: His care was now to make knowne unto her the great passion which hee suffered for her, and to let her know it in such a fashion, that Cleander might not perceive it. Hee was cleare sighted, like a Linx; and although he were not jealous, yet he was a husband, and unto a wife, whose admirable beauty did deserve to be pre­served: If he once did discerne of this love, all was lost, there could be no more friendship nor acquaintance; and other­wise to resolve to dye in a silent griefe, so neere unto his re­medy, hiding his death from her who was the cause there­of, hee could never consent thereto. And indeed it is better never to see that which one loveth, than seeing it, not to dare to expresse ones love; for the object stirreth up the desire: Neither is there any evill in the world like unto the presence of a forbidden good. Which the Poets the better to expresse, did not represent Tantalus his thirst in a Desert void of wa­ters, but in the middle of waters, not being able to drinke. To prevent then the husbands distrust, and to keepe suspici­on from entring into his minde, hee ruled his actions, his words and his lookes in such sort, that in his sight hee never came neere unto the wife, hee never spake unto her, nor ever looked upon her, but as upon a thing indifferent: neither [...]oo free, nor too reserved; fearing lest if hee were too much com­posed, or not enough, hee might discover his designe in the guiding thereof. He held therefore a meane betweene both▪ with that dexterity, that there was no gesture nor motion of [Page 4] his, which did not rather seeme naturall than affected. In the meane time, to make that knowne unto one, which hee would have invisible unto the other; hee every day made matches with Cleander, and other Knights, of Tiltings and o­ther noble Exercises: where the two friends were alwayes of a side, and alwayes vanquishers. In the morning they were together at the Church, after dinner together in their houses, after supper in their gardens, and alwayes Calista is the starre which lightneth the place. Time passing in this manner, Li­sander consumes, occasion of speaking unto his love being not offered: It is true, that every day he spake unto her, but not of love, nor of any thing relishing thereof; so that in every mans eye hee languishingly decayed, of an unknowne passion, in the midst of all the contentments which could be imagined. And although hee intended to dissemble his evill, covering his true griefe with feigned joy, yet did the dying colour of his face discover (yea, even unto those of small knowledg) that there was some passion in him, which with much griefe lay at his heart. Cleander is the onely man who doth not perceive it, beleeving that he should wrong his friend in thinking so. Hee discerned plainely how the lively flowers of his face did daily wither, but he thinks that it proceeded from accident, and would have imagined that it sprung from any other than from the true cause. They were then at the Court, in the great city of Paris, which so proudly raiseth her head above all the Cities, almost of the world, when as Cleander said, that Li­sanders indisposition proceeded from the unwholesome aire of the City; wherefore he was resolved to lead him into the countrey. Now he had a house, a dayes journey from Paris, built in a Lake, within the middle of a great Parke called Beauplain: the situation whereof being pleasant beyond ex­pressing, would have rejoiced sorrow it selfe. Thither did he invite Lisander, together with three or foure friends, and Ca­lista also, without whom the feast was of no value, went along with them.

It was then in the Spring, when the earth, more beauti­full than at any other time of the yeare, reneweth her counte­nance, and decketh herselfe in her richest apparell. There [Page 5] Cleander and Calista, continuing unto Lisander their acusto­med loving entertainment, made triall, that the country recre­ations which they gave him, together with all other honest delights, were no better remedies for his languishing, than the pleasures of the city. The exercise of Hunting, which was ordinary with them, could not divert his fantasie: vari­ety of company, wherewith hee was every day visited, did but increase his evill, and gave him occasion to steale out of their companies, to entertaine himselfe alone with his thoughts, which he durst not communicate to any body li­ving. One day, they having made a match to hunt an out­lying Stagge, Calista having stayed at home with a young brother of Cleanders, called Berontus, after some time wal­ked out with her brother in law to see their returne from the hunting: and as she was at the side of a wood in the middle of the Parke, so thicke, that solitarinesse perpetually resides there, in the shadow of an impenetrable leafinesse, she heard a voice, which, in bewailing manner, proceeded from the bottome of this wood. In the beginning she could not un­derstand the complaint, but going somewhat neerer with Berontus, who onely conducted her, she heard these words. Poore Lysander, must thou consume in these woods the mi­serable remainder of thy youth, and unprofitably lose thy life, both in absence, and unknowne unto her who is the cause thereof? Must thou needs dye obscurely, without ha­ving the contentment to let her see in thy death, the sacrifice which thou offerest unto her of thy life? O faire Calista, is it possible that such a divinity as yours, should be ignorant of those extreame affections which you stirre in me, and have no feeling of those flames which you so lively kindle in my soule! Can it be that a cause so faire should be ignorant of so necessary an effect as my love? O God, suffer not this want of knowledge in her, to be a punishment unto me, for my in­gratitude unto Cleander. O Lisander, thou dost violate, toge­ther with the law of Hospitality, the most perfect friendship in the world: Neither canst thou hope for pardon in any respect but onely in this, that thou art forced by a beauty which bendeth every thing under the violence of its sweet­nesse, [Page 6] and whose excellency not alone lesseneth thy fault, but maketh thee worthy of pardon, and also of merit. By these words they knew not onely the subject of this complaint, which was love: but also the person that made it, who was Lisander; and her for whom it was made, who was Calista. It is not to be spoken, who was more abashed of Calista or Berontus: for this passion was equally unknowne to them both. But Calista was most ashamed and most grieved, al­though her innocency was sufficiently witnessed by this complaint. And indeed it was enough to have troubled a very able and wise woman; for she did not know, whether she ought to entreat her brother in law to hold his peace, or tell her husband, or whether she were best to hide or disco­ver that, which might bee told by his brother, and where there was no lesse danger to conceale it, than scandall to de­clare it: Neverthelesse dissembling her thought, shee went on, as if she had not heard any word of this discourse. Beron­tus, who was none of Lisanders bestfriends, jealous of the o­vermuch love which his brother did beare him, had a faire occasion to divide them: but he, considering that hee should wrong his sister, and not willing to imbroile his brothers heart with so miserable a passion as Jealousie, nor to ruine the affection which he ought unto his wife, in destroying that which he unduly bare unto Lisander; resolved in himselfe to say nothing: But all these considerations were apart, and in silence, without communicating any word one unto the o­ther. In the end Berontus, seeing that Calista returned with­out saying a word, spake unto her in this manner: I doe not wonder, Sister, at Lisanders languishing, but I rather wonder at your cruelty, who so ungratefully suffer a Knight of his merit to dye, without taking any care or knowledge of the wounds which your beauty giveth him. Brother, said Cali­sta, you shew as much folly in entertaining me thus with his evill, as he doth in complaining, if it be true that he hath for­gotten himselfe so much; for I am unwilling to heare, either your discourse, or his complaint. But because we may have no more cause of suspition thereof, and that the house may be as well free from suspition as from crime, I doe conjure [Page 7] you to remove away the cause, and to finde some meanes so to drive him away, that I may have no more cause to com­plaine of the good which (you say) he wisheth unto mee. Sister, said Berontus, it is a businesse wherein I cannot serve you to my desire, because if hee should complaine unto my Brother, and he be willing to know the occasion, I must be constrained to utter that which were no way fit for him to know: but if you thinke well to write a Letter, such as your discretion can devise, I will cause it to fall into his hands, as it were by chance, and by this meanes I beleeve, that honouring you as he doth, he will rather willingly banish himselfe from your presence, than trouble the peace both of your house and minde. Calista approved of the advice, and in this resoluti­on (without being discovered by Lisander) they went to the house, whither also Cleander instantly returned with a fat Stagge, accompanied with those who had hunted with him. Shortly after came Lisander, who did not know that his complaints had sounded so neer unto his Mistresses eares, and lesse did he thinke that Berontus had heard them. They sup­ped joyfully together, Lisander and Calista discreetly dissem­bling the divers thoughts wherewith their mindes were troubled; and when bed-time came, Cleander, Berontus, and almost all the company, brought Lisander unto his cham­ber, where, after some few words of courtesie, they left him alone with his servants. He, going to the cupboord to take some of his night-cloaths, found upon his Cap a Letter to this purpose.

If Calista were surprised with Lisanders complaint, he was much more astonished at Calista's Letter, which Berontus (in going last out of the chamber) had privily let fall upon the table. He could not imagine who had written, or who had brought it: well hee knew, that the complaints which had escaped from him in the wood, were heard, and from thence came the knowledge of his most secret thoughts. O what newes were these to bring rest unto a man opprest with a­morous passions! All night hee did nothing but muse who should give him this advice: That it was Cleander, there was no appearance, because hee had beene all day a hunting, and after his returne hee did not leave his company; neither was it likely that he would have proceeded in this manner. Hee could not also imagine that it was Calista, because that he did not know that shee had walked abroad with Berontus. Be­sides, the Letter expressely said, that neither shee nor Cleander knew of it: And that it should be Berontus, hee had already found that he did not love him; neither did he thinke, if this young man had had such an occasion against him, that hee would have used it so discreetly. To be short, he knew not to whom to returne answer: neverthelesse hee resolved up­on his departure, and upon the meanes whereby hee might make Cleander like well of it, as also to speake particularly to Calista. The day appearing, he quickly dispatched one of his Footmen to Fountaine Bleau (where the King then was) commanding him to carry some Letters, which hee had written unto his friends, and with all speed to bring him an­swer. The footman departed with all diligence, and returned the next day with Letters from his friends; who sent him word, that he must make speed unto the Court, out of some important reasons, which they could not write. During the [Page 9] absence of his man, hee endevoured by all meanes to accost Calista; which he could not effect possibly: for she prevented him with so much care, and with such premeditated avoy­dings, that he judged she had knowledge of his designe, and that from thence came the Letter which had given him so much paine, seeing that before nothing was more easie than his accesse unto her. When his man was returned from the Court, hee went unto Cleander, who was then alone in his chamber with his wife; and having communicated his let­ters unto him, he entreated him not to take it amisse, if he did deprive himselfe of the happinesse which hee enjoyed in his company, for a small time, which he did assure him, should bee as little a while as hee could, yet would it neverthelesse seeme long unto him, in regard of the contentment and ho­nour which he received in his so deare conversation. Clean­der was very sorrie that hee must lose the presence of his friend, and said unto him; Yet shall it not be so hastily, but that I will importune you to give this day unto mee; for I have some businesse at the Court, which I will communi­cate unto you, if you bee not pressed with your owne. Now, as we said Cleander had many other friends with him, whom (according to his courtesie) willing to entertain, he left Calista alone in the chamber with Lisander, as if hee had contributed unto his desires. Lisander seeing himselfe alone with her, said, that hee had communicated newes unto Cle­ander, which he had received from the Court; but he had o­thers from the deerest person in the world, which he could not utter but unto her alone, entreating her to see them in this little Letter, whose shortnesse was such, that shee could not have the leisure to bee troubled with the reading. And in saying this he presented her the Letter, which she her selfe had written. Calista knowing it, and not being able to keep her countenance (inflamed with indignation and shame) from confessing that shee had done it, answered him in this manner: Silence or flight were much profitabler for you Li­sander, than either your discourse or stay here. Content your selfe that I have not acquainted Cleander with the wrong which you procure both unto him and unto mee, and that [Page 10] such a one knowes it, as doth onely forbeare to tell him, be­cause hee would not hazzard my honour, with the losse of your life. Madam, answered Lisander, then hee cannot but say, that I love Cleander with as perfect an affection as hee doth me, and that I doe adore you with as much respect and devotion as can be yeelded unto Divinity it selfe; which is farre from endevouring to wrong either the one or the o­ther. It is true Madam, that if the advantage which the affe­ctions of love have over those of friendship, and the privi­ledge of your beauty (which is as impossible to bee beheld without being beloved, as it is to come neer the fire without feeling the heat thereof) have made mee dare to discover it unto trees in the depth of the Forrest; the violence of my love must be accused, which hath constrained me, and your excellent beauty from whence it hath sprung: And let the worst be, Madam, I cannot be accused for any thing, but for loving the most lovely creature in the world. And if this be the crime which you speake of, I confesse not alone that I have committed it, but, which is more, that I cannot repent me of it. As for my life, Madam, with the losse whereof you threaten mee; as I will not keepe it but for your service, so I cannot better lose it than for your love. I would (if it plea­sed God) that I had many, and that nothing letted but their losse, to witnesse my affection: But seeing that you are inte­rest, and that I cannot hazzard it, but with your reputation, and in depriving you of the most faithfull slave that ever you captivated; I had rather barre my selfe from the Soveraigne blisse of my soule, than take from you the least contentment. And for this cause, Madam, I am resolved not to depart from your service for ever, but for some time from your presence, to the end, that adoring you without offending you, I may witnesse no lesse affection than obedience, and that both of them may one day invite your pity, to call backe a poore Exile, who hath banished himselfe from the dearest abode that ever he had, to obey you.

These words, spoken with no lesse love than grace, toge­ther with the inevitable charmes of Lisanders conversation, which would have inchanted even rockes, touched the se­cret [Page 11] places of Calista's affection, which were not marble, nor of any insensible matter, yet such, as with a chaste resoluti­on shee beatbacke all those shafts, which Love, hid in Li­sanders eyes, did continually shoot at her heart: wherefore shee thus answered. Lisander, you must know Calista, and beleeve, that if she could give her selfe unto any one, it should be unto you; but shee cannot doe but what she ought: and if you doe love her truely, as you doe professe, you ought not to hope nor desire any thing, but the will with which shee doth acknowledge alwayes the affection which you beare her; and were not her honour interest, she would hold your presence as deare as your merit doth oblige her: But for this time I counsell you to follow the resolution of departing, which you have already taken, because that Berontus, wal­king with me when we heard your complaint, and having learned more than I would that he knew, may do you some evill offices to Cleander. And although hee should say no­thing, yet we know not what hee may thinke: he is jealous enough of the love which his brother beares you, and may grow as jealous of me, although I doe not thinke I shall give him cause. Hereafter bee more discreet in your complaints, and thinke, that though woods cannot speake, yet they are not without their Ecchoes, which reside in their centers, and doe alwayes report (at the least the last word) what they heare. Upon the uttering of these last words, Cleander and Berontus came into the chamber, which not onely interrup­ted their discourse, but also put both of them in great doubt that Berontus had conferred with his brother about that whereof they were speaking: but this disquiet lasted not long, because that Cleander taking Lisander apart, and dis­coursing to him his businesse at Court, let him presently know, that he knew nothing of theirs; and Berontus (in the meane time) speaking with Calista, she told him what ope­ration the scroule had, which was let fall into Lisanders hands, which occasioned the leave he had taken of Cleander and of her selfe, although under a pretext of Letters which were come unto him from Fountaine Bleau: concealing neverthelesse from Berontus that Lisander had spoken unto [Page 12] her of it, or made any demonstration that he knew or doub­ted that she had written it.

This done, they went to dinner, and afterwards Li­sander got to Horse; having first kindly embraced Cleander and Berontus, and more lovingly kissed the faire Calista, who could not see him depart without sorrow, although small in respect of that which hee carried with him. All the compa­nie remained sad for his departure, except Berontus, who was not otherwise an enemy of his vertue, but envious: for he being a brave Gentleman, & hardy as the sword, thought hee lost of his lustre, when he was compared to Lisanders in­comparable valour; who riding as fast as hee could spurre, without staying all the rest of the day, came upon the begin­ning of the evening into the entrance of the Forrest of Foun­taine Bleau. The knowledge which (especially in France) is so frequent of this royall house (the proudest I thinke, in the world) shall keepe mee from beautifying this my Story with the description thereof, although it were one of the most glorious ornaments wherewith I could enrich it. It shall suffice onely to say, that our Kings have heretofore built it for the pleasure of hunting, in the middle of the Launds and Forrests, from whence it was called the Deserts of Fountaine Bleau. Lisander then entring into this Forrest, onely with one man on horsebacke, who waited upon him in his chamber, and two Footmen which ranne by him, had not ridden a hundred paces, when he was told by the repor [...] of seven or eight Harquebushes, and Pistoll-shot, and the cryes of many persons, that there was fighting neere him. He presently spurred his lusty Horse that hee had under him, which carried him suddenly into the middle of tenne or twelve Theeves, who were murdering of a brave Gentle­man, having laid two of his men upon the ground, and scat­tered three or foure others, who had accompanied him: He neverthelesse defended himselfe valiantly with his Sword, having already discharged his Pistoll upon one of the Theeves, wherewith hee lay biting the ground with the Gentlemans two men. Lisander seeing how bravely this Gentleman acquitted himselfe, moved with his owne natu­rall [Page 13] courage, let flye his Pistoll, and almost in an instant thrust himselfe amongst the rout with his sword and his Horse, e­very one of which had his effect; the Pistoll laid one along, with his Horse hee overthrew a second, and with his sword he killed a third, and all in so short a space, that one must have had a quicke discerning, who had not judged it to be one a­ction: His Sword hee had not long used, before the ground was strawed with blood, and dismembred parts of the Rob­bers, who were sooner killed and vanquished than they could almost thinke that any succour was comn unto the Gentleman; who also saw himselfe delivered, before hee could thinke of helpe. Lisander after this bloody execution comming neere unto him, saw that hee was a reverent old man, having his head and beard all white; of whom he de­manded how he did after his combat? Well, answered he, I thanke God, and your good help, unto whom I am redueable for my life: but I am grieved for my men, who are either all lost or dead. For those which are dead (answered Lisander) there is no calling of them againe, but for the rest, they can­not be lost so neere the Court, whither I thinke you are go­ing. It is true, said the old Gentleman, that I am going thi­ther, but not to make any stay; for it is long since my age and the contentment of a free life, which I have accustomed my selfe unto at home, have exempted me from that honourable servitude. But leaving this discourse unto another time, I would faine see if among those which lye for dead, there is none of mine yet alive: Saying this, he alighted, and Lisander also, whose men by this time were comn unto them, and ea­sed them of this labour. They looking amongst them who lay upon the ground, found two of the old mans servants still breathing, although wounded in many parts of their bodies, as well with shot as with swords: They called the other with lowd cryes, which sounding through the Forrest, hel­ped by the silence of the night, and solitarinesse of the place, came unto thei [...] eares; who hearing themselves called by their names, and by their Master whom they thought dead, returned to the place where they had left him. Lisander no lesse content with the good service which he had done unto [Page 14] this Knight, than he himselfe was joyfull for the recovery of his servants; the two first which were found wounded a­mong the dead, were Gentlemen (as such had rather dye at their Masters feet, than save their lives by shamefull flying) whom he caused to be lifted upon their horses, setting the o­thers behinde to hold them up, and so they proceeded in their journy toward Fountain Bleau. By the way, which was a good league and more, Lisander intreated this Knight to pardon his curiositie, if it did stretch so farre, as to desire to know the cause of this accident; at least, if this his request might not seeme too much importunitie. The old man, looking Lisander stedfastly in the face, as much as the darke­nesse of the night would give him leave, and thinking him the bravest and best fashioned Gentleman that ever bee be­held, answered him in this manner: Not alone of this acci­dent, whereof I cannot tell you the cause, but also of all my life (which you have saved, obliging mee thereby to hold it, next after God, of your Sword) I will give you such an ac­count, that although I cannot satisfie my obligation, I will satisfie (at least) your curiosity.

My countrey is Normandy, my house called Bellayre, I am named Dorilas, I have spent the most part of my life in the war [...]es, and few memorable actions have beene in my time in Christendome, wherein I have not had the honour to bee. I followed the fortune of Monsier du Mayne, in that famous battell of Lepantho, where Don John of Austrige, and the Venetians made the Easterne Sea looke redde with the Turkish blood. A long time after I was with old Monsier de Guise, in that fearefull battell of Anneau, when with a handfull of Volentiers hee defeated many thousands of Rei­sters, which were come from Roane unto the bankes of Loiere. Afterwards I was with the late Monsier de Mercu­re, when hee made that great and never-enough celebrated retraict of Cavise, where he retired many leagues in Hungary before a hundred thousand horse, with an army of fifteene thousand men. Finally, willing to retire my selfe, I married a wife in mine own country, whole name is Otranta, who hath borne unto me a sonne, whos [...] name is Liddian, and a [Page 15] daughter who is called Calista, and not long since married to a Knight of this countrey called Cleander. It is now eight dayes since I departed from my house and my wife, out of a desire which I had to see my children; one of whom I have seene but once since his comming out of Italy: Now he fol­lowes the King; and the other lives about a dayes journey hence, with the Knight her husband, whom even now I na­med. This afternoone I departed from Paris, where I have stayed these three dayes, and as I came from thence on this side of Aussone, the theeves set upon me, they having follow­ed me untill I came into this wood, where I had met with my grave, if you had not happily succoured me. Thus brief­ly you have what I can say of my fortune, and my life. But gentle Knight (if it please you) I pray tell mee your name, that I may know unto whom I may give thankes for my preservation; for it is unreasonable that I should not know him, unto whom of all men in the world I am most obli­ged; nor that you should refuse this courtesie unto him, unto whom you have not refused to expose your life for the safety of his. Sir, answered Lisander, I am a poore Souldier, so little knowne in the world, that though I should tell you my name, you would never the better know my person: yet thus much I will say, that I am come out of those parts, whither you are going, and doe know by good intelligence, that those whom you goe to see, are in good health: And I have heard so much good of their merits and vertues, that I account the small service which I have done you, exceeding well employed, although the onely consideration and fame which I have heard published of your valour (whereof you have made large proofe in this encounter) doth oblige mee to render you more signall offices, which, with time, I hope to performe: And then, Sir, I will not onely declare unto you my being, but I will let you see that I am in no lesse degree of love unto you, than one of your children.

By this meanes Lisander did thinke that hee should have avoyded the telling of his name unto good Dorilas, who did intreat him with a passion so great, as the refusall of so just a demand did augment his desire. But one of his footmen (in [Page 16] the meane time) holding speech with one of Dorilasses, and not knowing that his Master had a designe to hide his name, did nakedly tell, without thinking, whatsoever his Master did endevour to dissemble: yet because they did not under­stand what their Masters said, nor their Masters what they said, it came not at this time to the old mans knowledge. Shortly after they came unto Fountaine Bleau; but it was late, and the Court being very great, they could get but two chambers in one house, which Lisander left unto Dorilas and unto his people, going himselfe with his servants unto a friends lodging of his, to Dorilas his great griefe, who did much desire that they might accommodate themselves in one lodging. Let us leave him among his wounded ser­vants, whom he causeth to bee dressed with great diligence, and no lesse danger of their lives: and returne wee unto Li­sander, who retiring of himselfe (as we have said) to one of his friends called Clarangeus, he was received with all loving entertainment. At supper he told the adventure which had happened to him in the wood, the encounter which Dorilas had with the theeves, the succour which hee gave him; in briefe, the relation which Dorilas had made of his fortune. And when hee named Lidian, Clarangeus demanded if hee knew him. I have never seene him, said Lisander, but I have heard that he is one of the bravest Gentlemen in the world. One of the bravest you shall see, said Clarangeus, and one of the gentlest: wee have both done our exercise in Benjamins Schoole, whom you know to be one of the vertuousest Gen­tlemen living of his condition. After that, wee travelled to­gether into Italy, and there have alwayes lived familiarly to­gether: And since our returne, I never met with any man who hath more obliged mee to make account of his friend­ship; but I thinke when things are come to their perfection, they cannot continue, returning unto the estate wherein they were at first. I speake this, because of late we have not lived as we were wont, and all for the love of a person, who in my opinion gives neither of us thankes; and I doe beleeve, that if one of us doe not shortly alter his course, we shall not seeke one another long. I should be sorry it should so happen, said [Page 17] Lisander, for the good which I wish unto you, and in respect of what I have heard of him; and it were better that you should yeeld your difference to your first friendship, rather than let it passe any further. This cannot be, said Clarangeus, because wee both looke upon one object; neither are wee men to yeeld that whereunto wee have a desire. If hee had beene embarked before mee, my love should have given place unto his friendship; but being first in time, and not lesse in merit, I cannot doe it in affection. I told him yester­day what I thought, before my Mistresse: neither doe I know what he thought, but I have seene the time when hee would have understood me. Now this Clarangeus was one of the most accomplished Gentlemen of the Court, and Li­dian and he were both suiters unto one Lady, whose fair per­fections we will hide under the name of Olinda, and about this occasion had some little quarrell that very day; whereat Lisander was much grieved, seeing himselfe comn just upon the debate of two friends, the bloudy lawes whereof, in the French honour, obliged him to serve the one or the other of them. And indeed the next morning earely, hardly were they awaked, when a Gentleman, knocking at their lodging doore, asked to speak with Clarangeus, who (being called up into an outer chamber, and seeing him making of himselfe ready) told him that he was come from Lidian, who desired to see him in the fields with his sword; which well he could not tell him yesterday, because he was not willing to offend the respect of a person, whom he adored above all creatures▪ And that having taken upon him this charge, he had obliged him to receive him into his company, to serve him to some other purpose than as a messenger; wherefore he would in­treat that he would make choice of such a friend, who might serve him in the quality wherein hee served Lidian. Claran­geus, without stay▪ trouble, or alteration, answered in this manner; You cannot be more welcome: I am ready to con­tent your friend in the field, as I would have done in his house, if he had sent mee word. For a Second, I have none, neither will I have any (if it please you) for I know you to be so brave and so honest a Gentleman, that I will go among [Page 18] all my enemies upon your word. Sir, said Alcidon, who was the bringer of to challenge, and a very valiant Gentleman, you answer as well becomes you, and as I my selfe should do if I were in your place; but you know that sometimes cu­stome is of more force than duty, and that I should bee bla­med to bring you two to fight, and in the meane time I my selfe have mine arms in a scarfe. I know that Seconds are [...] their friends equally set together, and not to fight them­selves; but use carrieth it against reason, wee being neither Marshals of France, nor old enough to establish new lawes: the disease must have its course, and particular reason must give place to generall fashion; wherefore I once againe in­treat you to finde a friend, or else suffer me to say, you doe not embrace all the meanes you have to satisfie mee. Lisander, who having heard one aske to speake with Clarangeus so rarely, quickly made himselfe ready, thinking, by the dis­course which hee held of Lidian over night at supper, that this messenger came from him; and having heard the dispute be­tweene Alcidon and Clarangeus about a Second, entred into the chamber unto them, and bidding them good morrow, asked them what difference there was betweene them, and of he might not end it. Sir, answered Clarangeus, this Gentle­men [...] upon a promise, which I made unto him the other day, that I should shew him a faire Lady, and I feare shee is not yet stirring. That may very well be, answe­red Lisander; but may not I also see her? No sir, said Cla­rangeus ▪ Kings and Lovers will have no companions. Sir, said Alcidon unto Lisander, you are not a man to bee refused, if Clarangeus will beleeve mee, and if you are willing, it shall be your fault if she be not shewed you. There shall bee no fault in me, answered Lisander, and to witnesse unto you that I have a desire thereunto, I doe now tell you I doe already know your message, and that if Clarangeus refuseth the offer which you make in the behalfe of your friend, I will accept of it betweene you and mee. Alcidon answered, then are we as I would desire; and now I hope Clarangeus cannot refuse to give Lidian contentment, seeing that with his will or without it, we shall try it together. Well, answered Cla­rangeus, [Page 19] let mee then see Lidian, and doe you accommodate your selfe (to your desire) with Lisander, although there is no reason, that having no quarrell one with another, you should so rashly precipitate your selves upon your owne armes. Lisander did never undertake a quarrell with more griefe; not that he did doubt Alcidon, or that he was not wil­ling to serve Clarangeus; but hee did consider the displeasure which he should doe unto Dorilas, whom hee had so freshly obliged; unto Cleander, who loved him so dearly, and, which was more than the rest, unto Calista, in assisting a man a­gainst her brother: but the French passion (which in this re­spect is beastly, and constraineth those who doe detest this pernicious custome, to observe it, and to embrace a false ho­nour in stead of a true) made him passe over all those consi­derations. Thus went they towards their combat: Alcidon brings them into a meadow, where Lidian stayed for them upon a good horse, with a sword by his side: there, having all alighted, and put themselves into their shirts, Alcidon and Lisander left Lidian with Clarangeus, and went apart about a hundred paces, where being ready prepared, they ran one at the other, and at the first encounter were both wounded; Lisander gave him a very great wound in his thigh, which he ran thorow, and he himselfe was wounded in the left arme, so that the one lost the use of his thigh, and the other of his arme: But Alcidon fell downe, unto whom Lisander said, We fight but for our friends, and for our honour, without any particular occasion of hatred to each other, wherefore you having some of my bloud, suffer me, I pray, though unwil­lingly, to carry away this of yours, and that remaining your friend, I may goe separate those whom a small occasion hath made enemies. This being said, without staying for answer, hee ran unto Lidian and Clarangeus, whose combat had proceeded in this manner; Lidian had made a thrust unto Clarangeus, which lighted upon his Rapier, and going be­tweene the barres of the hilts, wounded him in his right hand, but he himselfe was wounded in the left hand, and his Sword, engaged in the hilts of his adversaris, broke in the middle: Then seeing Lisander comming towards him with [Page 20] his sword naked and bloody, and not seeing Alcidon, he did verily thinke that he had killed him, and came now to helpe his friend; wherefore seeing two such enemies upon his hands at once, and himselfe without a sword (for whom two had beene too little) that he was in extremity, it may ea­sily be imagined: yet dissembling his thought, and willing to cover his pressing and manifest danger, as one who had rather lose a thousand lives, than one title of honour; he cast which way hee might revenge his death, which hee did be­leeve to bee inevitable, when Lisander threw himselfe be­tweene their weapons, and before Clarangeus could have li­berty to speake one word, he cryed unto them, Sirs, you are both noble, both bloody, and both friends, without having any advantage one of the other, or if there be any, it is rather due unto fortune than valour, which is equall between you; I conjure you to give your difference (which is but small) unto your ancient friendship which was so great, and unto this blood, which Alcidon and I have shed for your pleasure. How, said Clarangeus? and shall not Lidian confesse himselfe vanquished, being alone, and without a sword, against us two? Never vanquished though killed, answered Lidian; for although you kill mee, yet I will never want courage to dye, though I want armes to defend my selfe. Live then in­vincible, said Clarangeus, for it shall never bee said that I tri­umph over you rather by fortune than vertue. Ah, said Lidi­an, now thou hast vanquished me, in saying I should remain invincible, my life being in thy hand, which thou hast gene­rously spared, when I would not have begged it to have re­deemed it from death. In saying this, he flung away the rest of his sword, and ran to embrace sometimes Clarangeus, and sometimes Lisander (having teares in their eyes out of tender joy, principally Clarangeus, who was more particularly tou­ched with his former affection) equally thanking them for their courtesie. In the meane time Lisander lost much blood, and Alcidon more, whereby hee was not able to rise; where­fore all three went unto the place where he fell, and found him more afflicted with griefe that hee could not follow Li­sander, than with his wound; but when he knew the happy [Page 21] successe of their combat, his contentment made him forget the greater part of his griefe.

Now this challenge could not be carried so secretly, but O­linda, who was the cause of it, knew also the effect; by whose fearefull, yet loving minde, it was quickly divulged through the Court, and many of the chiefe Courtiers were on horse-backe to hinder the combate betweene such noble Gentlemen: but inasmuch as no man knew the place which was chosen, they so long rode up and downe the fields to seeke them, that the blowes were all past, and they had cal­led their people, who were binding of their wounds to stay the blood, when they came in unto them: The first who found them were of Alcidons friends, who caused him to be laid upon a hand-litter, and carried unto Fountaine Bleau. Lidian having taken his leave of him, and left in charge with them, he accompanied Lisander and Clarangeus to the outer­most part of the Launds, and there againe renewing the oath of his former friendship, and contracting a new affection with Lisander, he tooke leave of them, who ridde to­wards Paris, he himselfe directing his course to Beauplaine, to see his brother Cle­ander, and his faire sister Calista.

WHilst Lidian endevoured by hard riding to reach Beauplaine, the newes of his combate spread through all the Court, so that Dorilas his father waking in the morning, and sending one of his men to the Castle to enquire for his sonne, about eight of the clocke he understood by him, that his son was gone very early to fight, that there were three more in the company, and that all the Court was on horse-backe to part them: which newes did so much trouble him, that hee was likely to strike him who told it; yet speedily resolving, hee got to his horse, and galloping after those which were gone before, it was not long ere he met with those who car­ried Alcidon, from whom hee learnt the successe of the com­bate, and the retreat of the Combatants. Whereupon the good old man returning to Fountaine Bleau, recommended the care of his wounded Servants to the Surgeon, and in­stantly setting his foot in the stirrop, in great haste rode unto Beauplaine; and as there is no better spur, or rather no better wings than those of love, so the affection which hee bare his sonne, carryed him so nimbly, that Lidian was in Cleanders armes embracing, when Dorilas came, so that it seemed they [Page 24] came together. It is not to be told whether Calista were more glad, or Lidian more surprised at the unexpected comming of their father.

After that Dorilas had embraced Cleander and Calista, Li­dian did him reverence, whom Dorilas embraced as the o­thers, and dissembled for the present any knowledge of his affaires, although he saw his arme in a scarfe: but a small time after sitting at Supper, and Lidian not using his left hand▪ the faire Calista sitting neere him, invited him to bee merry, saying, I thought at the first, brother, that you wore this faire scarfe for fashion sake, but now seeing you doe not use your hand, I thinke it is out of necessity. It is true sister, answered Lidian, neither doe I know how it happens, I have such a fluxe fallen into my arme within these few dayes, that I have lost the use thereof. I know well, answered Dorilas, from whence it proceeds; but to ease me of the labour of tel­ling, relate it your selfe, and lye not, otherwise I shall make another quarrell betweene you and Alcidon, if you contrary the truth which hee told mee. Lidian finding himselfe con­vinced by such a testimony, and that hee could no longer dis­guise a thing so visible, related from point to point the quar­rell which hee had with Clarangeus (as you have heard) be­ginning with the great friendship which had been betweene them, untill their love unto Olinda, for whose sake only (being jealous one of the other) they had fought, being never pro­voked by any injurious words: the Challenge delivered by Alcidon to Clarangeus, with whom Lisander casually being, offered himselfe to be a Second; finally, hee told them how Lisander (having wounded and overthrowne Alcidon) parted Clarangeus and him, when they were both wounded, and when his owne sword being broken, he made a full ac­count to have had them both upon him; exalting the valour and courtesie of his enemies, but principally Lisanders, who he said was author both of his safety and life, with so many words of praises and commendations, that Cleander could not expresse, nor Calista dissemble their contentment.

After that Lidian had finished his discourse, Dorilas began in this manner: You, sonne, for your pleasure have runne a [Page 25] dangerous fortune, but that which happened to me was no lesse, neither was there above a night betweene in time, nor above a league in place: for yesterday, going from Paris to Fountaine Bleau, and comming late into the wood, I was set upon by tenne or twelve theeves, who wounded almost to death two Gentlemen, whom I have left at Fountaine Bleau, and put two or three other of my people to their heeles, that without helpe (in my opinion) more than humane, which came to mee when I was resolved for death, I had not now beene alive. Then did hee tell them how he was succoured by the valour of one man, who comming in miraculously, either killed or put to flight all the theeves: further, said hee, I never saw him but by night, yet me thought hee had the fa­shion and figure of an Angell; neither in all my life did I see any thing more courteous, or more humble: neverthelesse he did me this displeasure to conceale his name, although his refusall was accompanied with the fairest and gentlest ex­cuses that could bee; telling further, that hee came from these parts, and that he understood by good intelligence, you were both in good health. Sir, said a servant of Dorilasses, who stood waiting behinde his chaire, hee who succoured you in the wood, was called Lisander, for his man told mee so, and also that he came from hence: yet when he heard his Master conceale his name, he entreated me not to speake of it; and I doe verily beleeve that hee is the very same who this day fought with Alcidon, for it was said this morning at Foun­taine Bleau (in speaking of this quarrell) that one of them came but late last night to the towne. You have reason, said Cleander, for yesterday after dinner hee went from hence, and he might well reach the wood about the houre you speake of. By this second newes Lisanders praises were augmented, and every one spake of his vertues, & of those services which he had done in the persons of Calista's parents: who could have beene so ungratefull, as not to acknowledge the merit and fidelity of so perfect a lover? Let us now confesse that vertue hath no prevailing enemies; and as the beauty there­of, producing admirable affections, justified the honest love which Calista afterwards bare him, so had it justly condem­ned [Page 26] her of an unexcusable ingratitude, if shee had not loved him. Now the nature of envie being most to fight and bite against vertues, when they are most commended, the more Lisanders lovely qualities were commended, the more was Berontus his courage incensed against him: for hee having heard the complaint, walking with Calista, which Lisander made in the wood, and thereby knowing that all his services had no respect but unto her, was justly spighted to see aswell his brother, as all the rest take them to their advantage; which Calista discreetly marked, gathering Lisanders com­mendations with so much modesty, that her coldnesse did not discover any dissimulation, nor her liberty, affection. Fif­teene dayes did Dorilas and Lidian stay at Beauplaine, and fif­teene Lisander and Clarangeus at Paris, during which time both their wounds were healed; but that which Calista had made in Lisanders heart, grew every day worse, neither ab­sence, nor diversion, nor company, nor businesse, proving apt remedies for his healing: which made him almost resolve once againe to appeare before his onely remedy, if the divers obstacles which concurred had not retained him. For hee knew that Dorilas and Lidian were both there, and Berontus also, whose presence was more dangerous than all of them; and what hope could hee have to entertaine her opportunely with any speeches, amongst so many watchfull eies? He was not willing to lose Cleander ▪ and above all things be feared to offend Calista: wherefore hee resolved before the remem­brance of two such fresh obligations should slippe out of her memory, to write unto her, to know whether he might ever hope for time or place, when, without disturbance, hee might see the onely object for which hee cherished his sight▪ and having called one of his Footmen, an old servant whom hee had long knowne to be faithfull, commanded him to goe unto such a Village neere Beauplaine, where hee should finde such a woman, unto whom he should give this Letter, and wait for an answer in her house, but upon his life he should take care that he were not seene; and for that cause hee should not come thither before it was night, and should goe away before day. Now Lisander had long before pra­ctised [Page 27] this woman while he lay at Beauplain, where she was as frequent as if she had beene of the family, and had given her great gifts, yet not telling her that he was in love with Ca­lista [...], but with her woman, whose name was Clarinda, whom he had also so far gained, that she promised to deliver his letters unto her Mistresse. The Lacquey departeth after dinner from Paris, and comming in the night to this wo­man, delivereth his Masters commendations unto her, and together with a Letter, hee put two chaines of gold into her hand, one for her selfe, and another for Calista's woman, un­to whom he entreateth her to give it, together with the Let­ter. The woman shut the Lacquey into the house, and going the next morning unto Beauplaine, easily gave the Letter and the chaine unto Clarinda, and Clarinda only the Letter to Ca­lista, who retiring her selfe into her Closet, and opening it, found that it said as followeth.

Calista having read this Letter, and being no lesse com­bated with the obligation which shee had unto Lisanders love, than with the duty unto her owne honour, and Cle­anders love, discoursed long in her selfe, whether shee ought to answer; her honour representing, that an honest, wise, vertuous woman, as she would bee accounted, and as shee was, ought not to doe any thing in secret ftom her husband, much lesse give him any answer, and already did her heart reproach her with the audience which shee had given him, and made her alone in her Closet blush with shame for re­ceiving it: But Love pleading Lisanders cause, and represen­ting his admirable qualities, his incomparable affection, te­stified with such signall and late services, accused her for suf­fering (with no lesse cruelty than ingratitude) a life to bee lost which ought to bee so deare unto her, if not for the love which shee bare him, at least in that hee had saved both her fathers and her brothers; and the rather, because shee might preserve it by a word, or by a looke, which would oblige Lisander, without any way offending Cleander. Following then this last opinion, and knowing that Dorilas was resol­ved to take Cleander, Berontus, and Lidian along with him the next day, she concluded not alone to write backe againe unto Lisander, but to take this occasion to see him in their ab­sence, without any bodies privity; yet with this resolution, not to yeeld him any favour but only sight and speech: wher­fore she answered thus.

It is true Calista, you hazzard more in this than he, for hee could but lose his life, and you both life and honour: neither doe I thinke it will be long before you repent it, although you are not guilty of any offence, either in effect or will.

But not to digresse, this letter closed, and given unto Cla­rinda, that she might, as from her, give it unto the woman of the Village, to send unto Lisander, Calista went into the Hall, [Page 30] where dinner was ready, and the company onely staying for her, which she excused as well as she could. After dinner Cleander would needs give Dorilas and Lidian the sport of hunting of a Stagge, whereupon they went all together a hunting, neere unto the Village where this woman dwelt, who was Lisanders messenger. It fortuned whilest they were going to their sport, a most violent storm of raine fell so vehemently upon them, that they were constrained to seeke shelter; and finding none neerer than this womans house, (who, as I said, was ordinarily at Beauplain) they ran thither (so fast as their horses would go) all together, and so sudden­ly, that Lisanders Lacquey (who was within waiting for his dispatch) could not hide himselfe from being found and knowne by Cleander, Berontus, and Lidian, who asked newes of his Master. The footman, who was not prepared for this surprize, remained so astonished, that he wished himselfe dead: neverthelesse making a vertue of necessity, and not being able to hide his amazement, hee disguised the subject▪ telling them, that hee was not now with his Master, who had put him away for a slight occasion, when after so many faithfull services which he had done him, hee ought to have expected a recompence; so that not knowing what to doe, and not having the heart to serve any other man, he resolved to come to Beauplaine, to entreat their favour to write in his behalfe unto Lisander to take him againe, seeing the cause for which he had put him away, was onely for giving a boxe on the eare unto a fellow of his, who had not served him above three dayes, whereas he had served him sixe yeeres; But see­ing this storme falling, hee had come thither as well for shel­ter, as also to entreat the woman of the house (who had well knowne him at Beauplaine, and had beene well acquainted with some friends of his) to write unto his Master in his behalfe. Truly, said Cleander, if it bee no other matter, I will write in thy behalfe so soone as wee returne from hunting: come and lye at Beauplaine, and I will give thee a Letter. Sir, said the footman, there is another who labours for my place, who (I feare) will get it before to morrow night; therefore seeing you are pleased to doe me so much good, I humbly in­treat [Page 31] you to write a word or two upon this paper, while the rain staies you here, that by my too long stay I do not find my place gone: herein you shall binde me to pray for your pro­sperity. Hast thou an inkehorne, said Cleander? I sir, answered the Footman (hee had found an ill-favoured one by chance upon the cupboord, with which, not knowing else how to spend his time, hee had beene scribling all the day;) Give it me, said Cleander: and taking the pen in his hand, hee writ these words.

This was a tricke of o [...] footman, which had not been amisse if our messenger woman, returning the same houre from Beauplaine all we [...] finding her house full of such unex­pected guests, had not almost marked all. If the footman were surprized, she was more amazed; and thinking that they were there waiting for her, and that Clarinda had de­ceived [Page 32] her, or that the Footman had discovered all, shee was ready to fall upon her knees at her entrance into the doores, and to give Calista's Letter to Cleander, and aske forgivenesse for a fault which shee did suppose had beene already discove­red. Behold the perils into which those expose themselves, who, to attaine their ends by any meanes whatsoever, put their lives and honours into the hands of such persons: Yet she seeing their cheerefull countenances, and the Footman comming towards her before them all, as if hee had not yet seene her, she recovered the spirit and judgment, which she had before lost, and ascribing her troublesome countenance to the foule weather, which beat with violence in her face, shee made a low reverence unto all the company. Gentle­woman, said Cleander we have surprized your house, which hath done us good service against the rain; and having found here Lisanders Footman, who stayed for you, we have vvrit­ten in his behalfe unto his Master. How (said shee) Foot­man, have you forsaken your Master? It is hee Gentlewo­man, answered the Footman, who hath put me away, and Cleander here (I thanke him) hath entreated him by a Letter to take mee againe, being also come unto you to entreat you (in respect of your ancient knowledge of my friends, and your acquaintance with my Master) to doe the like for me. Truely, said she, where his recommendations have no pow­er, I am assured mine will not be availeable: neverthelesse, because you shall not thinke that I say this in excuse, I will write unto him. Shortly after the raine ceasing, and the wea­ther being cleere, Dorilas and his company left the Gentle­woman with Lisanders Footman, under colour of the Let­ter; and the time of hunting being past, they returned all to Beauplaine; where they supped as hungerly as if they had spent the time in hunting. In their supping, they (discoursing from one thing to another) began to speake of Lisanders Footman; which gave a warme alarum unto Calista, who (as all those who finde themselves guilty) thought that eve­ry word spoken would have tended unto the discovery of her fault, untill by the end of their speech, she found that they knew nothing of her affaires. The Footman having told the [Page 33] woman all that had past betweene those Gentlemen and him at their meeting, and receiving Calista's letter, returnes in extreme hast to his Master, whom hee almost put into a fever by the recitall of this accident, and having given him aswell Calista's letter as Cleanders, hee resolved to ride in­stantly, without any company but the same footman, who also ridde; and so they two together tooke their way to­wards Beauplaine, from whence the very same day Cleander, together with Berontus, departed to accompany Dorilas and Lidian to Fountaine Bleau: but the good old man would not suffer them at any hand to ride farre, but made them (though unwillingly) returne backe; so that his returne being more speedy than Calista expected, much perplexed her: yet shee wisely dissembled it by a fained joy, which seemed true; al­though her light supper did manifest unto Cleander, that some thing did trouble her, and shee her selfe confessed she was not well, but he judged it to be onely sorrow for Dorilas and Lidians departure. This indisposition of health did apt­ly serve to colour her sudden retyring to her chamber, which shortly after supper (Clarinda alone being with her) bidding the rest of the company good night, shee did; and Cleander also (who was somewhat weary) did the like into his cham­ber, and all the rest by their example. The night was darke, and all the house in silence, when Clarinda going softly out of her Mistresses chamber, went unto the garden gate, where Lisander was appointed to be, who, because hee would not faile his appointed time, had almost killed his horses to get thither: Having found him with his faithfull footman, she tooke him by the hand, and without being perceived by any body, shee brought him (to his unspeakeable joy) to Calista's bedde side, where shee then was lying. When hee saw this incomparable beauty (which hee could not religiously e­nough adore) waite him within her bedde with so many graces, he was about (loosing that respect which hee did ac­customably beare her) to forget the condition upon which hee was permitted to see her: But Calista, who had no lesse severity to make him feare, than sweetnesse to make him love, stayed this motion of his, and with one word made [Page 34] him sit downe in a chaire by her bed side: unto whom shee began to speake in this manner; Lisander, if you knew the paine and danger which I hazzard to content your desire, you would love me more for this alone, than for the beauty which you say is in me, Know that Cleander is not at Foun­taine Bleau, as both he and I did thinke he should; for my fa­ther would not suffer him by any meanes to goe farre with him, but forced him (though against his will) to returne a­gaine, so that now he is retired into his owne chamber, to let mee rest with more quiet here alone, because to keepe my word with you, I made him beleeve that I was sicke, chusing rather this night to breake company with him, than my pro­mise with you. Calista had scarcely uttered these words, when they heard knocking at the doore, and Lisander judg­ing that it was Cleander (as it was indeed) did beleeve that Calista had set this match to undoe him; the very first newes, that a man, whom he thought so far off, should be so neere, having raised this doubt in his minde: But when hee heard the knocking at the doore, there was no discourse of reason strong enough to divert him from thinking that he was be­trayed; wherefore he said to Calista, Madam, you had many other meanes to destroy my life, but I perceive you doe desire it should be together with Cleanders. No, said she, in taking him by the hand, I take heaven to witnesse (I have now neither meanes nor leisure to make other protestation) wherefore I pray let that, together with the proofe which you shall see, satisfie you. I doe conjure you by all that may be deare unto you, to stand close behind this Tapestry: spea­king this softly as she could, she asked aloud oftentimes, who was there? and called Clarinda, who being fitted for the pur­pose, mad shew as if she were asleepe. In the end, Lisander being placed betweene two pieces of the Hangings by the bedde side where she was, and holding with one hand both the pieces close together, but onely for a little hole through which he might see who came, and to put the nose of his Pi­stoll, which he had ready in his other hand; Clarinda, seeming halfe asleepe, and being but halfe ready, went to open the doore unto her Master, who going round about his wives [Page 35] bedde, shut close with a curtaine but upon one side, came so neere unto Lisander, that he touched the end of the Pistoll. Li­sander hath many times since related this, and I have heard him often say, that this was the greatest feare that ever his heart was capable of; although that seeing Cleander come a­lone in his night-gowne and night-cap, he knew Calista had not betraied him, as he did beleeve. Cleander then comming unto his wife, asked her how she did? she answered that her fever had encreased since supper, for want of sleepe, and that she did beleeve her recovery did consist in rest. Cleander ta­king her by the hand, and finding her pulse beat violently, as it could not choose in that her apprehension, told her never­thelesse that it was nothing, and that he was also much more perplexed: but my trouble proceeded from another cause; for I dreamed even now that I had lost you, and that there was a Dragon here, which would carry you away: so that waking in this feare, and remembring that you went sicke to bedde, interpreting my owne dreame, I feared that your sickenesse was the Dragon, which I saw carrying you away: And this is the cause of my comming at this time, to see how you doe; but God bee thanked you are not so ill as by my dreame I thought you were, for which I am glad. I will one­ly lye down by you a while, to feele the course of your pulse, and then I will let you rest. When Lisander heard Cleanders dreame, he did verily beleeve that he was discovered, untill he heard the exposition which was made: and Calista her selfe knew not what to thinke; who seeing Cleander resolved to stay, bid Clarinda draw the curtaine close, because the light of the candle did trouble her eyes. Clarinda going to obey her Lady, was constrained to let goe a little dogge which came in with Cleander, which she had held in her armes up­on the bedde, fearing that hee would winde Lisander. The little dogge was no sooner out of her armes, when running towards the bedde side, it presently (smelling that there was a stranger) began to barke so eagerly and so loud, that Clean­der would have risen (seeing that Clarinda could not catch it) from off the bedde to drive him away: and had done it, if Calista had not lovingly withheld him. In the end the [Page 36] dogge was taken and put out of the doores, because hee was as importunate as faithfull: and Cleander having stayed a­bout an houre with his wife, went his way, suffering (by his absence) Lisander to take a little breath, who during his stay had beene vexed with so many warme alarums. The one was no sooner gone out of the chamber, but the other came out of his hiding place, and kneeling downe before Calista, demanded pardon of her for his mistrust, proceeding from such apparent likelihood; unto whom (lifting him up with her hand) shee said, Hereafter Lisander learne to know Cali­sta, and beleeve that her soule shall never be spotted with in­fidelity.

Lisander beginning to grow warme by the touch of her hand, although it were cold as snow, and forgetting the dan­ger past, by the sight of her present beauty, answereth her with so amorous a kisse, that he thought his mouth ought to be knit unto Calista's, and his soule to be gathered-in at her lips; neither would hee willingly have beene drawne from so agreeable a trance. Soft Lisander, said Calista, I promised you nothing but sight, neither did I thinke to have permitted any further than speech: content your selfe with the danger wherein I have throwne my selfe, and the wrong which I have done unto my duty, to acquit my promise unto you, and constraine mee not to withdraw the love which I now beare you, through your indiscretion, as I have now pulled you to mee under the assured respect which I did promise my selfe from your modesty. Madam, replyed Lisander, I doe humbly crave pardon, if I shew my selfe unwilling to lose so faire an occasion of enjoying so many wonders; for I should dye out of griefe, and give you just cause to laugh at my sim­plicity: my passion is stronger than my selfe, and my vio­lence is the more excusable, proceeding from your wonder­full beauty, which forceth mee now to constraine you to have pity upon me; And in saying this, he invaded earnestly his Mistresses Dominions, endevouring to ravish away the last favour, for which hee had put himselfe into this haz­zard; when with an extreme anger, and a loud and shriller voice than the danger wherein both of them were, would [Page 37] well permit, she called her Gentlewoman, and said unto Li­sander, Is this the recompence of the danger whereinto I have cast my selfe to oblige you? Well, bee gone presently if you would not that I should shew Cleander the true Dragon, which hee saw but in his dreame: Thereupon Clarinda rising up of one side, and Lisander forbearing of the other, Calista's voice was a little quieted, but not her heart, what words or submissions soever Lisander said or did, who was constrai­ned to goe away with this biting sorrow, that hee had lost the favour of his Mistresse with too much importunity. Was not this well rid, well waited, well suffered, and well frigh­ted, to buy with the price of so many feares so bleeding a griefe? I doe wonder that hee did not presently kill himselfe before her, at least to worke horrour and feare in her, seeing he could not stirre pity: but he did better in doing nothing, but going away fuller of sorrow than of life, lighted onely by Clarinda unto the doore, who durst goe no further, fearing lest hee might bee discovered; so that hee being in the dark, grabling his way, with one hand upon the raile of the staires, and a Pistoll ready bent in the other, as hee was against Cle­anders chamber doore, which was somewhat lower than Calista's, his feet slipt from him, so that hee fell down the staires, even to the bottome, and besides the noise which hee made in falling, the Pistoll which hee had in his hand went off, and gave such a report, that it awaked all the house. Cle­ander, Berontus, and as many as were in the house rose in a fright, and began to cry out all together, asking one of ano­ther, what was the matter, others calling for light. Calista, who was not asleepe, nor any way disposed thereunto, hea­ring her husband and brother-in-law cry, and not knowing whether Lisander had shot his Pistoll against them, or whe­ther they had taken him, was in more than a deadly agonie. Clarinda fearing to be discovered and punished, desparately cryed out, All was in disorder and confusion. Lisander being at the foot of the staires, more amazed than hurt, and more hurt than seene, his Pistoll being fallen out of his hand, and his hat from his head, and fearing to bee discovered if hee [Page 38] should leave them behinde him, vvas a good vvhile before hee found them in the middest of the darkenesse and cryes; which vvhen he had done, hee runnes tovvards the Garden gate, through which hee entred: but as hee passed by the Kit­chin doore, vvhere there vvere seven or eight servants, and tvvo or three dozen of dogs, hee was follovved and barkt af­ter untill he found his man vvho had his horse; and get­ting speedily upon his backe, he escaped avvay over the fields, without being knovvne by any that follovved him.

I Shall now want apt words to expresse the griefes, wherewith, in the third part of this Story wee begin to bee travelled: Hitherto they have beene but feared, now they are to bee felt. But not to raise more sorrow in you than the relation of the truth will bring with it, I will returne to our amorous Lisander, disgraced not alone by fortune, but (which was most insupportable to him) by his Mistresse, gallopping towards Paris, whilst Cle­ander and Berontus having gotten lights, visited all the house to finde what it might be, that had so unexpectedly troubled their deepe, but quiet sleep: but although they searched both high and low, within and without, the quest ended with no more knowledge than it began: and not being able to ima­gine the true cause of this Alarum, they judged that some theeves would have robbed them: For confirmation of which, some of the servants, who with eyes hardly awake had seene a glance of Lisanders running by, for one whom they had not well seene, they said that they had seene sixe, and there was one, who to seeme more valiantly fortunate, assu­red them that the Pistoll was shot at him, and that the bullet came whistling so neere his eares, that it blew and shaked [Page 40] his haire. Thus Lisanders escape passed for an attempt of robbers in Cleanders opinion, who failed not to goe present­ly to Calista's chamber, to tell her that the noise was made by theeves that were fledde, wherefore hee wished her to take her rest this morning (for the day did begin to break) and re­compence her nights unquiet rest. Truly he had reason, for shee had but small; yet this last comming was much more welcome unto her than the first. Thus was appeased this trouble, greater in Calista's minde than in all the house be­side.

Dorilas being (with Lidian) arrived at Fountaine Bleau, and willing in some measure to shew himselfe thankfull un­to Lisander, obtained his pardon, and Lidians of the King for their combat, as also Clarangeus and Alcidons, who was now healed of his wound. But as they went to Paris, hee recei­ved letters from Normandy, by which understanding that Otranta was sicke, he ridd [...] directly to Bellaire, where the joy of his returne, and the good newes which he brought her of her children, helpt much to the recovering of her former health. Lidian and Alcidon meeting with Lisander and Cla­rangeus, they went to Fortlevesque to have their pardon en­tred with the great Provost, from thence all together they went to Beauplaine: Cleander, Calista, and Berontus bid them most exceedingly welcome, and after accustomed embra­cings and complements were over, the first discourse where­with Cleander entertained them, was, how he was likely to be robbed, telling it particularly unto Lisander in the presence of Calista, who could not tell almost what countenance to hold. He shewed them the Kitchin door, where (he thought) the Pistoll was shot at his man: hee shewed also the Garden gate, where (as hee said) they came in and went out; leaving all the company, either in deed, or in shew, wondering at the accident: finally, after so tedious a discourse to the two Lo­vers, they altered the subject of their speech, of which though there were divers opinions, yet none thought the truth. For three or foure dayes while they stayed at Beauplaine, Lisander used all his endevour to speake with Calista, and shee, all that she could to avoid him, unlesse it were in company. Lisander [Page 41] seeing himselfe barred of that meanes, had recourse unto Clarinda, and unto the woman who had delivered his first letter: both of them excused themselves, upon Calista's ex­presse forbidding, not alone to speake for him, but also to de­liver any letter for him. When hee saw all his instruments faile him, he resolved againe to banish himselfe from the pre­sence of his Mistresse, and to goe into some place where hee might at least ease himselfe by complaint. Holland, which was then the seat of the warre, and is at this day the Schoole thereof, by the valour and capacity of that brave Earle, who hath better understood it, and better made it than can be said, furnished him with a brave occasion: The Archduke threat­ned to attach Reyne Berk with a siege, and the States prepared themselves to defend it. Of the one side was the Marquesse Spinola, Generall of his Highnesses army, who by his exploits against Ostend and Sluse, had gotten immortall renowne with the Spaniards and Walloones, who without bragging may be called good Souldiers, and who doe best observe the discipline of warre of any nation of the world; and among all other, the brave Count Bucoy, and our French Terraile. Of the other side was the valorous Prince Maurice, of whom we spake even now, under whose name alone, in one word, may be comprehended all warlike vertue, accompanied with his young brother, who doth nobly imitate him, as the most perfect example which hee can follow; with a brave army, but not so strong as the enemy, composed for the most part of French and English, two of the warlikest nations this day, or which ever have beene upon the earth: over whom shi­ned (like two great starres in a cleare night) the dead Bethune, and the brave Castillion: The first dying with the reputation of knowing better the art of warre, than any man of France; and the other (having had a grandfather, an uncle, a father, and a brother, who, in these our dayes, have filled the world with the knowledge and admiration of their valour) liveth this day in estimation, worthy of their memory. Lisander propounding these reasons unto Cleander, the better to build lawfull excuses of his departure, made them appeare so just and honourable unto him, that in stead of diverting him, hee [Page 42] resolved [...] accompany him, and to take part in the danger, intending to leave with Calista his brother Berontus, who (not thinking it honourable for him being young, and a bat­chelor, to remain shut up in a house, whilest his elder brother exposed himselfe into the dangers of warre) entreated to be excused. Alcidon, Lidian, and Clarangeus hearing also of it, would needs goe along. Lisander seeing so brave resolutions, promised in himselfe to do such deeds of armes in their com­pany; that hee would force Calista's obstinacy, and make her as amor [...]us of his valour, as hee was of her beauty. Calista knowing that Lisander, not being able to endure her angry presence, did deprive her of her beloved husband, was so extremely grieved therewith, that shee began much to re­pent that ever shee had driven him to that resolution, by her [...]igour▪ And not finding a better meanes to breake off this journey, than by his meanes who had first propounded [...], she endevoured to fall into some speech with him before their departure were fully resolved upon, with as much ear­nestnesse, as formerly shee had avoided his entertainment; hoping to effect so much with him, and hee with Cleander, that this enterprise should be laid by. To that end therefore [...]he (the very same day) willing to entertaine him, came unto the window, faining to leane there where he was standing: Lisander seeing her come, seeming to apprehend her com­ming thither to bee onely to rest her selfe, with a great reve­rence forsaketh the place, and goeth to talk with Alcidon and Clarangeus. It is not to bee told, whether despite or shame were greater in Calista: she onely said in her selfe, I will run no more after him, although I should lose whatsoever is dee­rest unto mee. Cleander comming thereupon unto her, and seeing her alone, and sadde in the window, incontinently judged one part of her griefe, but not all: for, besides that which was wrought in her through his going whom shee so dearely loved, she suffered much through Lisanders disdain (there being nothing whereof a proud Lady is more sensible than to see her selfe despised of one who had so entirely lo­ved her, & so religiously adored her.) There were all the rea­sons which might serve either for or against this voyage, [Page 43] brought and debated betweene them: and although Calista's teares were more plentifull than his discourse, yet they gave place unto his will, and consented to that which they could not hinder. It was therefore determined, that during his ab­sence she should go unto Bellaire to Dorilas and Otranta, who passionately desired to see her; he further assuring her, that she should hardly bee returned home before hee were come backe.

Cleander having brought his wife unto this resolution, two daies after he took leave of her, to go unto Paris to accommo­date him there of such things as were most necessary for his voiage; again were their teares renewed at so pitifull a depar­ture. Lisander had much adoe to containe, having his heart so pierced with anguish, that he could not utter one word. Tru­ly Cleander himselfe went away lesse sad than he. But Calista upon a sudden reduced into so great a solitarinesse, and depri­ved of all things which were most dear unto her in the world, was most afflicted.

The Knights being come unto Paris, and in two daies ac­commodated, especially of good armes, they went into Hol­land, and (to make short) put themselves into [...]eine Berke a little before it was besieged. My intention is not here to write the generall or particular actions of the siege, because it is not the subject of my Pen; onely I will say, That among those which got extraordinary fame of my knowledge, be­sides our adventurers, were Monsieurs de Sowbisse, de Fleis, de B [...]r quart ▪ and de Canaillaice: and that in one, of many brave Sallies which were made, Alcidon and Clarangeus being car­ried away wounded with two Musket shot, the one in the shoulder, and the other in the legge, Berontus taken prisoner, and Lidian and Clarangeus so ingaged, that they could expect nothing but death or imprisonment; they were succoured so valiantly by Lisanders incredible vertue, that it might be truly said, their lives and libertie were preserved by him. A strange felicity of a man, and more worthy to bee envied for the joy he felt, that he had so obliged her whom he loved, not onely in the person of her father & her brother, but in her husband also, than for the glory which he received: for although hee [Page 44] were then publikely honoured of all, and after the siege high­ly commended by Count Maurice, and admired of all the States; yet the occasion which Fortune lent him to serve his Mistresse, and to acknowledge Cleanders love, vvas more e­steemed than the honour for which he had so nobly hazzar­ded his life. Novv as the skill of besieging places in these our dayes, and rather in that countrey than any place of the vvorld, is come to such perfection, that there is no towne vvhich is impregnable: Reyne Berk having held out three moneths against the attempts of the besiegers, rather by the valour of the besieged, than by the strength thereof, yeelded upon composition. The States having paid Berontus his ran­some, and Alcidon and Clarangeus being healed of their wounds, our Warriours covered vvith Lawrell returned into France. Calista in the meane time, having stayed three or foure dayes after her husbands departure at Beauplaine, left the house in the guard of a keeper, and taking an old Gentle­man with her, whom Cleander had left to attend her, and two maids, with Clarinda, earely in a morning entred into her Coach towards Paris, with purpose to goe from thence into Normandy to see her parents. Aussun is a village where­of we have spoken before, which lyeth in the mid-way, not alone betweene Beauplaine and Paris, but betweene Foun­tain Bleau also and Paris, and therefore well known and fre­quented by all those especially who follow the Court. Ca­lista comming unto this towne about dinner time, saw a Caroch standing at the doore of the Inne, and going into the house, a Lady perfectly faire, who came from Fountaine Bleau, and was going to Paris. At first they did not know each other, but saluting, Calista knew that it was Olinda her brothers Mistresse, and Olinda knew her also to bee the faire Calista, Lidians sister. Their complements quickly gave place to the admiration which they had each of others beauty, and to the ceremonies which are usually among women: but their dinner being over, Time, which they were to hus­band, called on them to depart; and being to go all one way, the more commodiously to entertaine one the other, Olinda entred into Calista's Caroch, leaving her owne for the other [Page 45] Gentlewomen and maids. There she understood the cause of her journey, how she went to visite her parents, to see if the contentment which shee hoped to receive by their sight, might wipe away the sorrow of her husbands absence. Olin­da (who knew not that they were gone into Holland) with the pleasure which she received to heare that Lidian and Cla­rangeus were gone together good friends, felt no lesse sorrow for Lidians absence, than Calista suffered in her heart for Clean­ders and Lisanders. Neverthelesse, as they gave not place one unto the other in affection, so they did not yeeld one unto the other in skill how to dissemble it: for Olinda had alwaies loved Lidian, yet so discreetly hid it, that hee himselfe could not discerne it; and from thence proceeded the quarrell which hee had with Clarangeus, because that thinking she lo­ved the other better than she did him, and Clarangeus thin­king as much of Lidian, they grew jealous one of the other. Now (according to a naturall desire of holding speech of that which one loves) they almost spoke of no other thing all their journy; and being come unto Paris, they parted, with assured promises of perpetuall friendship. Calista promised to be backe againe at Paris within a moneth, and not to de­part from thence untill Cleanders returne, which shee hoped would be shortly after, and to write to her in her absence. Thus Olinda remained at Paris, and Calista three dayes after arrived at Bellaire, who was received there with the tendrest and dearest affections that could be expressed: They deman­ded newes of Cleander, and she told them how Lisander and the other whom we have named, were gone to Reyne Berk, according unto the designe which Lisander had propoun­ded. God send them a happy returne, said the old man; for next unto my children, whom naturall affection maketh me preferre before all others, nothing can bee so deare unto mee as this Lisander, who you say is the author of this journey; He saved my life once, and gave it me the second time in pre­serving Lidians your brother. I doe not thinke that two such obligations can ever be perfectly acknowledged. Calista re­plied not, because she would not discover what she thought; but falling into other speeches, told them, how upon the [Page 46] way shee met with Olinda, whom she no lesse wished to bee her sister-in-law, than Lidian did to bee her husband Dorilas himselfe knowing the quality of her person, and her great estate (a consideration which at this day, especially with old men, doth extraordinarily worke) would also have beene glad to have beene her father-in-law. A moneth after Calista came unto Bellaire, newes came of Berontus his taking priso­ner, of Alcidons and Clarangeus being wounded, and of the extreme danger wherein Lidian and Cleander were; which had beene to their utter losse, if Lisanders incomparable ver­tue had not freed them. This newes came like an unresista­ble blow, to imprint deepe in Calista's heart, already made flexible by his former services, his incomparable qualities, and matchlesse person, as also his most religious affection unto her, which wrought no lesse effect than any of the o­ther, it being that alone for which shee entred into the consi­deration of the one, and did presume was the cause of his at­chieving the rest; yet wisely dissembling whatsoever was in her heart, it appeared not in her eyes, but with silence past it over, untill in the end Dorilas and Otranta breaking out, cried, O God, wilt thou never be pleased to blesse us so much, that we may be able to acknowledge these unspeakable favours, for which we are so much indebted unto this Knight? Some comfor it would bee if wee might but see him. Daughter, said Otranta unto Calista, you shall not goe from hence before Cleanders returne; and if hee will have you, he shall come himselfe for you, that wee may see this Lisander, so good an Angell unto us. These words did wonderfully please Cali­sta, unto whom now it was a paine to dissemble the love which she bare him; and who (considering the strange ef­fects of this love, the meanes by which Fortune did necessa­rily constraine her to acknowledge them, otherwayes tyed in the same necessity unto that, which shee owed unto Clean­der and unto her owne honour) could have wished Li­sander lesse accomplished, that shee might not be so taken in his love: Yet though shee found her selfe consumed with the same fire which devoured him, she resolved rather to ex­tinguish it with her life, than to ease her selfe by any meanes [Page 47] which might wound her honour. Thus having spent a mo­neth longer at Bellaire than shee made account, and desiring that Cleander should finde her at Beauplaine, or at the least at Paris, where she had promised Olinda to be a moneth sooner, they tooke leave of her with teares in their eyes: shee also (contributing hers unto their griefe, which seized them as violently at their departure, as her comming rejoiced them) went away accompanied with the same sorrow which shee had left. They would have stayed her, if the old Gentleman who came with her, had not told them that Cleander had a businesse in court, which did require the presence of his wife: Away then she went unto Paris, where the Court then was, and where she employed a moneth more, aswell in soliciting her husbands affaires, as in visiting her friends; amongst whom Olinda was not forgotten, neither was she by Olinda: Their friendship was confirmed by this conversation, so much the more agreeable unto Olinda, by how much shee seemed to be with Lidian when she was with Calista. They were lodged neere unto the Arcenall, where almost every day there was tilting, sithence the returne of the Court (for the royall tilting place was not then finished.) One after­noone as they were all together, they were told that there were strange Knights, who were come in the morning, and had challenged the Knights of the Court to breake some staves with sharpe points in open field, and that the King himselfe about foure of the clocke would be there in person, thinking that they were English, who preserve, in this exer­cise, the ancient reputation of the Knights of the round Ta­ble. The novelty hereof (for it was not usuall to see any tilting but with blunt staves, and most commonly against Quintan) made our Ladies goe to see it, as also almost all the Court, some to have part of the danger and honour, some onely the pleasure. But it continued not long, for one of the brave Knights of the Court, a great favourite of the King, cal­led Cloridon, running first against one of the strangers, was o­verthrowne from his horse, and wounded not onely with the sharpe steele, but also with a splinter of the staffe. And although the blow was not mortall, his Majestie neverthe­lesse [Page 48] was so sorrowfull, that he caused the tilting to cease al­most so soone as it was begun, intreating the strangers to dis­cover themselves; who pulling off their Helmets to doe re­verence unto him, were knowne to bee Frenchmen, and those who about three moneths since went from Beauplaine with Cleander and Lisander, who was the man that had ju­sted: these men comming from Holland, had agreed to make their entrance into Paris in this manner. The King glad to see them, more easily bearing that Cloridon should bee overthrowne by Frenchmen than by strangers, as he did be­leeve at the first, joyfully embraced them, and after hee had from them learned some particularities of Reyne Berke, and witnessed by the honour hee did them how well hee was sa­tisfied with their actions, returned to the Louvre, leaving them amongst the Ladies. Cleander finding out his Calista, who shined among the faire ones, as the bright Moon doth among the Starres in a cleere night, went unto her, being be­tweene Olinda and Argire, no lesse joyfull for his return, than for Lisanders honourable atchievement; who heaped up so many proofes of his valour one upon another, that the last made the first forgotten. This Argire whom wee here na­med, was a faire Lady, who among many slaves unto her beauty, had captivated Alcidon, who was not long before hee came unto her. Lidian also and Clarangeus tooke either of them Olinda by the arme, who remembring the bloody quarrell which they for her sake had had betweene them, was in great care to content them both with such indiffe­rence, that they might have no cause to be jealous: and Cle­ander with Lisander saluting Calista, in kissing her, said in her eare, Friend, make much of this Knight; for without him your brother and I had not beene here now. Sir, answered Calista, this is not the first time that he hath obliged us, and that his good offices have exceeded all meanes of acknow­ledgement: But yet although hee hath taken from us the po­wer, the will at the least shall remain with us, which is one­ly left unto us, to pay those unvaluable courtesies. Madam, replyed Lisander, the services which I have done you, are smal in respect of those which I, together with all the world, doe [Page 49] owe unto your merit; and I thinke you doe reproach me for their smalnesse, when you speake of their greatnesse, and that so highly honouring such poore actions, you would make mee blush out of shame that I have done them. Many other discourses past betweene them, which I omit, desiring rather to relate matter than words. They retired all together unto Cleanders house, where Calista prevailed with Olinda and Ar­gire to stay supper, besides whom, they were visited with many other Ladies, and Monsieurs of the Court. After sup­per Lisander, Alcidon, Lidian and Clarangeus, leaving Cleander and Berontus to entertaine those which came in, retired themselves to the Ladies, who were apart, and entertained them with extraordinary discourses, because Lisander could not speake particularly to Calista before the company, nor Alcidon to Argire, and lesse could Lidian speake unto Olinda, because of Clarangeus, who gathered all their words, and besides the passions of love, felt also those of jealousie; wher­fore Olinda spake to neither of them (as little as shee could, that shee might not offend) but addressed her speech unto the brave Lisander, who speaking but little, and that (God knowes) farre from his heart, stood as if he were there onely to judge of others discourse: And you brave Sir, said she, will you be alwayes as free as you are invincible? Can it bee that so much valour can be altogether unaccompanied with love? Wee are all unhappy, and ought to account little of our beau­ties, that we are not able to give one wound to your minde. Lisander and Calista had much adoe to forbeare blushing at these words; And Argire, seeing that he answered not, spake unto Olinda: Thinke you, Madam, that seeing that greatest courages are most subject unto this passion, that his can bee free? For my part, I doe not thinke him lesse amorous than others, but I thinke him more discreet; and I beleeve his flame is so much the more violent, by how much he desireth to hide it. Truely she had reason, and failed not: but who would not have thought, that she had discovered the secret of Calista's affection? who hearing her love thus discoursed by persons who knew nothing thereof, could not well tell what to judge of it. In the meane time Lisander calling him­selfe [Page 50] from the deepe silence wherein hee stood, as if hee were lost in it, answered both of them in this manner; Since that Mars himselfe was not able to resist love, in a time when hee had not those armes which you give him, there is no great appearance that I should be able to vanquish him now, hee being armed with those unavoidable arrowes of your beau­ties. But alas, why should I say that I am vanquished? what would it availe mee to complaine of an evill, whereof I can hope for no remedy? What doe you know, answered Ar­gire? it may be, said she, you sigh secretly for one, who would be very glad that your complaints made knowne might ob­lige her to give you that remedy which you desire. All the company laughed at Argires answer. And Calista, to aug­ment the pleasure, fearing lest her too much reservednesse might raise a suspicion that she was interest in the discourse; followed in this manner: If I knew this proud one, who in­slaveth so much glory in captivating you, and that I were perswaded my prayers would have easier accesse unto her than your merits, I would never forbeare importuning of her, untill she did leave her cruelty towards you, in yeelding that recompence which your valour meriteth; and I doe as­sure my selfe, here is none in this company who doth not promise as much: wherefore if you desire we should employ our selves for you, and that you doe not lessen us so much, as to beleeve our intercession is unprofitable, or that you pre­sume not so much of your selfe, to thinke you have no need of our helpe, tell us this faire ones name who hath the ho­nour to possesse you, to the, end embracing your passion, we may in some measure requite (and I in particular) so many inestimable good turnes wherewith you have obliged mee. Lisander seeing himselfe set upon on all sides, and by Calista her selfe, who could not better witnesse the great confidence which she had in his discretion, answered her thus: Madam, although I doe not name my Mistresse unto you, it is no ar­gument of my presumption; neither if I doe name her, is it out of any hope of any bodies favour, but hers onely, because as I am not so vaine to presume that I can merit her, so can I not beleeve, that all the prayers in the world can prevaile [Page 51] with her beyond her duty. Now there is so great dispro­portion betweene her merits and my wants, that there is nothing more contrarie to her duty than loving of mee: ne­verthelesse, Madam, I value your favour so highly (your con­tentment is so deare unto me, and I have sworne so much o­bedience) that although I have promised never to name her, yet there is no body living, unto whom I would more wil­lingly name her than unto your selfe, upon condition you will also promise me never to speake of it, untill shee permits the publishing thereof. I had rather never know it, than bee tyed to this condition, answered Calista: but seeing you will not content our curiosity this way, satisfie me another way; we will quit you for a Song, provided that you will sing it to the Lute, I doe conjure you (said shee) by her love, and in favour of all this faire company who entreat you. Now she knew that Lisander played excellent well upon the Lute, and that having an excellent voice, did accord it with so much art, that there was no sweetnesse in the world comparable unto it, nor no heart so hard, that could avoid being charmed therewith; yet he would have been excused, though not like unto Musitians, who will never sing when they are entrea­ted, nor hold their peace when they are bidden: seeing him­selfe conjured by the thing in the world which hee held most deare, he said, Madam, you demand such poore small courte­sies, whereas the greatest are due, that although I am the most unable that can be to content you, yet had I rather erre in obedience, than excuse my selfe by reason. So receiving the Lute from Calista, he began to touch it so sweetly, that all those who walked in the Hall, came about him; but when hee added his voice, it brought so great a silence, that the mindes of all the hearers; ravished with this wonderfull har­mony, seemed to bee deprived of all motion in the body. E­very one admired at the incomparable perfections of this Knight, every body had their eyes fixed upon the beauty of his face, and their eares chained unto the sweetnesse of his tongue. Now was remembred the grace which did accom­pany him in his ordinary conversation with his friends, and his invincible courage, which drew him victorious from the [Page 52] danger of his enemies, and wherewith he finished so many brave deeds of armes in his youth: He sung verses which he had made when he was in Reyne Berke, then when he being assailed within and without, and being to defend himselfe from love and his enemies; hee who gave life unto others, could not have it for himselfe, and complaining of Calista's cruelty under the name of Hipolita, said:

Lisanders last words, pronounced with the grace of his sin­ging, and mingled with some teares, let them know, that he was truely amorous, and touched the heart, not alone of the Ladies, but also of the Knights, so deepely, that compassion sprung up in stead of envie. Calista her selfe was moved un­to so great pity, that shee repented of her intreating him to sing. Thus all the company being raised into admiration, and their memories filled with this object, lost themselves in this pleasure. Being now night, there came a Page into the Hall, who asking to speak with Lisander, was ledde unto the place where hee was environed with the Ladies: there the Page said aloud unto him, Sir, there is at the doore a Lady, who hearing of your safe arrivall home, sendeth you a good­night by mee, which she had rather give you her selfe, if you would bee pleased to take the paines to goe downe into the street, Lisander, as the courteousest Knight living, had not the leisure to aske the Page what Lady it was, desiring rather to see her, than to lose time in informing himselfe, so much hee feared to make her attend: wherefore rising up from a­mong [Page 53] the Ladies, with great reverence unto them, he follow­ed the Page, leaving Calista with a new suspition, that this was some new Mistresse, who had part in that, which shee thought shee wholly possessed. In the meane time Lisander going out of the Hall, found foure men armed at the doore: two of whom presently clapped the doore after him, and the other two instantly catching fast hold about his middle, stabbed him into the body with their Poniards. Lisander finding himselfe wounded, and not being able to draw his sword, held them very hard with his armes, and with his nimble strength (wherein he, if any man, excelled) lifted them both up from the ground, and being upon the toppe of the staires, he missing his footing, they all three fell downe the staires together. The two who had shut the hall doore, came running downe the staires after him, and there finding Lisan­der grasped betweene the other two, and wallowing all to­gether in his blood, thrust him twice thorow the body, be­fore hee could draw his sword. The noise which was made, as well in shutting the doore, as in falling downe the staires, together with the clamours of a Page, who cryed out that they murdered his Master, gave an alarum unto all the house: Some cryed out to have the street doore shut, others began to breake open the hall doore; Alcidon, Lidian, Clarangeus, and Berontus with their swords in their hands, leapt out of the windowes of the hall which looked into the Court, and ha­ving found the foure murtherers (who endeavoured to get a­way, having (as they thought) dispatched Lisander) there be­gan betweene them a bloudy combate: for besides that they were valiant men, the necessity wherein they were, and de­spairing to save their lives otherwise than by their swords, enforced them to a greater resolution, together that being armed to the very throats, against men who had onely their swords, they were with lesse feare, and bare themselves more hazzardously than otherwise they would have done. Ne­verthelesse the courage and the nimblenesse of the others was so great, and the fury wherein they were through Lisanders death, which they did account certaine, that, notwithstan­ding all advantages, they came victoriously off. The first who [Page 54] atchieved any thing in revenge of Lisander, was Lidian, who entring with a point upon his enemy, lighted just betweene his arme and the curats, and run him cleane thorow: almost in the same time, Alcidon having closed with his adversary, and overthrowne him, disarmed his head, and without pity cut his throat.

Clarangeus and Berontus casting themselves desperately up­on those two, who were against them, got them downe, and killed them with the very Poniards wherewith they had wounded (though most cowardly) the most valiant Lisan­der; who being found by Cleander after he had broken down the hall doore (in the plight we have spoken of) was carried unto a bedde (having lost his knowledge with his blood) without moving, and almost without breathing. There Cleander, who, besides the perfect love which hee bare him, was obliged for his liberty, Alcidon to whom hee had spared it, being in his power to kill him, Lidian whose life hee had twice saved, and Clarangeus whom he had served against Li­dian, began to make such lamentations as are not to bee ex­pressed. Above all, Olinda and Argire wept as bitterly as a lit­tle before they had heard him sing sweetly. But the faire Ca­lista seeing the most lovely Knight, and best loving her of all others, carried all bloody and pale (though lovely) as if death had taken that shape to make her in love with it, received so feelingly his wounds into her heart, that without complaint or teares, immoveable as a Statue, the violence of the evill ta­king away all sense, she fell downe into a swoune, as far from shewing any token of life as her friend was; in which plight she was carried unto another bed. The Surgeons, who in all diligence were sent for, having searched Lisanders wounds, were not able to resolve of his recovery, and lesse able to stanch the blood, or keepe him from his swouning; which made every body despaire of his life: onely Lidian re­membring himselfe of an Operator who had formerly cured him, so excellent in his skill, that he not only stayed the blood with a word, but healed the most mortall wounds with an incredible facility; went out of the house in all haste, without speaking a word to any man, and stayed not before hee was [Page 55] with this Operator: but hee found him in his bedde, and so sicke, that it was not possible for him to rise; Yet sir, said he, send me the wounded mans doublet, and if he bee not abso­lutely dead when I receive it, I will assure you his life. Lidian being unable to comprehend this, and fearing to lose time, together with his friends life, he returned with the same di­ligence wherewith hee went, and brought him the same doublet which was taken off from Lisander, whom he found in the same estate wherein he left him: but being returned the second time unto Cleanders, he found that Lisanders wounds were closed, and his bloud stopped, neither could the Surge­ons, more than any of the company, tell the cause. Then did he tell them what hee had done, whereat they all wondred: But the old Gentleman, whom Cleander had left with Calista when he went into Holland, told them that he had seene the very like practised in the person of the father of S. Andrew de Vins, a brave Gentleman of Provence, knowne by them all, who being at the siege of Rochel Squire unto Monsieur, af­terwards Hen. the third, cast himselfe before his Mr. when he saw a Harquebush levelled and discharged at him, whereby hee received the shot in his breast, and was healed by a man who never saw any thing but his doublet. Shortly after Lisan­der came unto himselfe, which Cleander ran presently to tell unto Calista; who being a little before recovered, received with this new cause of joy for hope of Lisanders life, a new occasion of affliction, out of feare that she had discovered her love. Neverthelesse it was received by Cleander, as an honest and pitifull affection which she truely bare unto the vertues and merits of Lisander, who having recovered knowledge, with so feeble a voice that he could hardly be heard, had yet lost the memory of all that was past; neither did hee know why, or whereof he was sicke. The Surgeons forbad him to speake: and after they had considered of all things that were fit for his recovery, they bethought themselves of the cause of this assasination. No body could imagine from whom it should proceed; for Lisander had no enemies, at the least which were discovered, and those who had so wickedly wounded him, being disarmed after they were [Page 56] dead, could not be knowne. In the end, the Page whom they had at first sent, was found hid behinde a doore, who being brought unto Cleander, confessed that this match was set by a couzen of Cloridons, who was first killed by Lidian; hee de­siring to revenge upon Lisander the blow which was given in the tilting, had with those three others, who were all Clo­ridons servants or friends, sworne Lisanders death. Cleander and all the company were extremely offended, and went all the next morning at the Kings rising to complaine of the attempt, and to demand justice against those whom they had killed: but Cloridon demanding it also with them, and witnessing more sorrow for Lisanders wounds, than for the others death, testified that he knew nothing of so divellish an enterprize: And the King, who loved them all, desiring to make them friends, expressed, that for the love hee bare Cloridon, he should be glad if they would content themselves with their deaths, who had worthily received it as a chastise­ment for their fault: wherefore all things so rested; the dead were dead, Cloridon and Lisander wounded, were afterwards made friends by the Kings command.

THe haste which I made to have Lisander cu­red, and the necessity of his evill remedied, made me forget in my last part how Olinda and Argire, having watched at Cleanders al­most untill day, retired to their houses, the one conducted by Alcidon, the other by Li­dian and Clarangeus, who with the first flames of their love felt also those of jealousie. Olinda, who by that which had happened, judged what might happen, fearing to bee the cause of a second mischiefe, determined to goe no more unto Calista; who never stirring from Lisander, continually kept him company, and shewed the best countenance unto him that she could, feeding him with sweet hopes, and raising in him an imagination, that assoone as hee was recovered of those his bodily wounds, shee would also ease those of his minde (which hee said shee had made.) In the meane time, Lidian and Clarangeus, not able longer to endure Olinda's ab­sence, went both of them to her at her house, where shee in­treated them, not to take it in evill part, if for some important reasons which she would not speake, she did conjure them for some time to deprive her of the honour which she recei­ved by their company. This shee said with great demon­stration [Page 58] of sorrow, seeing her selfe constrained to make this request unto them: Both of them witnessing as much obe­dience unto her as love, promised to forbeare, although this banishment were more cruell unto them, than any torment which her rigour could have inflicted. Alcidon (who made the third in this businesse) remonstrating unto them what extremities they were brought unto by their jealousie, ha­ving made them commit a fault, a relapse whereinto could not bee but inexcusable and mortall; intreated them to give this passion unto their friendship, or at the least not to take it away, having once given it before: and if they loved Olinda, they ought not to constraine her good will by violence, nor make her odious unto all the world, as being the cause of di­viding so ancient, and perfect a friendship as theirs was, with many other reasons: so that they promised not to forbeare loving of her, for that was not in their power, but at the least to abstaine from seeing her, as they had promised.

This promise was for some dayes religiously kept by the two friends, who would not by any means be justly tax­ed for wronging each others friendship, but beleeving that they should either vanquish, or by diversion wipe away their love and jealousie, seeing every day all sorts of objects excepting that which was most fixt in their imagination: But Clarangeus having taken a lodging neere unto Olinda's, to the end he might see at his window, as she went in and out at the doore, her whom hee durst not goe to see in the house, (as lovers have strange phantasies, and content themselves with what they can get, when they cannot get what they would) made Lidian thinke this his taking of a house was no apt meanes to make him forget her. Wherefore beleeving that hee was dispensed of his promise, and no more to bee bound to the oath which was first broken by his rivall, hee found the meanes to meet Olinda one evening in the garden of the Tuilleryes, where she was gone to walk, & there (with some teares) complaining of the torment which hee suffered in his absence, by the commandement which she had given not to see her, which Clarangeus had disobeyed, in taking a house so neere hers; expressed his love so lively unto her, that [Page 59] Olinda who truely loved him, and did not like that Claran­geus had taken a lodging so neere hers, beleeving that he had done it to observe her actions, suffered him to see her at cer­tain houres; which shee did assigne unto him so secretly, that it was not perceived by Clarangeus, although her neere neigh­bour. These visites were by night: Olinda retired her selfe earely, and went late to bed; and when every one else was a­sleepe, Lidian, without any followers or light, was brought into her house, and spent a great part of the night with her, although with all the honest respect which could bee be­tweene honourable lovers: But the Moone, envious of Li­dians fortune, discovered him to jealous Clarangeus, who watching like a Dragon at a window which looked into the street a little upon the one side from his Mistresses, saw him come out from thence about two houres after mid­night. The unfitnesse of the time, and the astonishment to see him come from a place where his word and friendship had barred him the entrance, raised such humours in his braine, that hee could hardly containe himselfe: and to per­fect the cause of his complaint, Lidian being in the street, and Olinda in her window, they tooke new leave one of the o­ther (without thinking or remembring of their neighbour) with such amorous words from Lidian, and so favourable from Olinda, that Clarangeus fell from an ague into a feaver; and Lidian (as if he had not had leisure in two houres, which he was with her to speake, so blinde are both love and lo­vers) intreated her to fling him downe her handkerchiefe, that he might have the contentment to lodge with it, and to embrace it all night, in remembrance of the deerest person unto him in the world. Olinda, who was otherwayes dis­creet and wise, so farre yeelded unto his prayers, that as well to satisfie his importunity, as not to let him stay any longer there, cast it unto him, thinking that he would goe his way so soone as he had taken it up: But the wind, jealous of this fa­vour, blew it upon the barres of Clarangeus window, who saw this action with a motion of so violent a passion, that impatience and rage were likely to have carried him into the street, there to decide by a last combate the difference and [Page 60] jealousie of their love. Olinda and Lidian were in no lesse pain, perceiving (although too late) their undiscreet improvi­dence; yet her Gentlewoman running speedily with a pole, got down the handkerchiefe, which Lidian catching before it came unto the ground, and in his Mistresses sight lovingly kissing it, retired himselfe, leaving unto her a good night, and unto Clarangeus the worst that ever hee felt. The next mor­ning they failed not to meet at the Masse, rather to see Olinda than for any devotion: where Clarangeus comming unto Li­dian, said, You cannot now deny that you have not seene Madam Olinda, both against her command and your pro­mise. Against my promise, I doe confesse, answered Lidian, because you have made me dispence with it, in first breaking your own; but not against her commandement, because she hath permitted me, as she did formerly forbid me.

Clarangeus provoked with this answer, said, Wherein have I broken my promise? I yet never did it, and doe well know the meanes to compell others to performe what they pro­mise. You need not compell (answered Lidian) those who are ready to pay: and you did breake your word, when ha­ving promised not to see Madam Olinda, you tooke a lodging close unto hers. Well Sir, answered Clarangeus, I would not so lightly have departed from your friendship, as you have from mine; but this is the truth, herein I am your enemy. Sir, answered Lidian, I will alwayes oppose my services unto your hatred: But I entreat you to consider, that our promise is re­ciprocall, and hath no more force than my Ladies comman­dement gave it; and if you (neverthelesse) beleeve that I have sooner broken my word than you, pardon it unto mee, and thinke that I have no more power of my selfe, than you have of your selfe. The holinesse of the place, and their friends which did accompany them, interrupting their discourse, they heard Masse together with Olinda, who understood part of their dispute, and was no lesse offended with Lidians an­swer, than with Clarangeus complaints; who was the more provoked at that time by Lidians holding of the handkerchief against his mouth. Their friends having sent to seeke for Alcidon and Cleander, and they comming, the best meanes [Page 61] they could finde to agree them, was to entreat them that their differences might be determined by her will, who was the cause thereof. Lidian at the first word consented hereunto, assuring himselfe of Olinda's favour: but Clarangeus, distrust­ing his cause, would not referre himselfe unto the judgement of a woman, already gained by his adversary; yet Alcidon and Cleander used so many perswasions unto him, that hee yeelded, if Olinda made choice of Lidian for her servant, Cla­rangeus should leave her service, and should never pretend a­ny interest in her love; and in like manner, if she should rather chuse Clarangeus, Lidian should forbeare any further suit, and never come in any place where he might hope for grace or fa­vour from her. Commission to deliver this agreement unto Olinda, was given unto those who had made it, and their ho­nours were ingaged to the performance of these conditions, declaring themselves enemies unto the first breakers thereof. Olinda being equally offended with them both, beleeving al­so that she had power to call backe Lidian when she pleased, and not thinking it fit to make choice of one, and offend the other, resolved to bee rid of them both, entreating both the one and the other to absent themselves, and promising to choose him for her husband who should last come unto her. The Oracle proceeding from this mortall goddesse, so unex­pected by those who asked it, so astonished Clarangeus, but most Lidian, that the next morning, without communica­ting their designe, or taking leave of any person, they got to horse, leaving the Court, and all their friends in great sor­row.

In the meane time feeble Lisander by little and little reco­vered his strength, and no lesse by Calista's charmes than by the Operators skill (who onely applyed his salves unto the doublet) lost the paine of his wounds: The contentment which he received in her company was so great, that fearing to lose that, he was unwilling to be healed; out of which re­spect, when she asked of him how his wounds were, he an­swered, Better than I would, Madam, because the happinesse which I receive in your most deare company, doth infinitely surpasse the paine which they put me to: and I doe so much [Page 62] feare the losing of this glory when I shall bee healed, that to preserve it eternally, I could wish them incurable. Calista gently smiled at these words, and told him, that hee should onely take care for the healing of them, and after they should enjoy more pleasure being whole, than in being sicke. But what pleasure Madam, answered Lisander, can I hope from your rigour, if you use mee alwaies according unto your ac­customed manner? You complaine without cause, replyed Calista, knowing (as you doe well) unto what extremity I have beene reduced to please you: but as it is said, to bee wil­ling to be healed is a beginning of health; only be willing to be healed, that I may see you once doe what I desire. With these sweet words Lisander thought that Calista did but de­ferre the remedy of his love, untill the healing of his wounds did make him capable of the receiving thereof: And thus de­ceiving his hope with his evill, unsensibly he was reduced to his former health. But then when Lisander thought to ga­ther the fruit of this love, for which hee had suffered so many rigorous absences, travels, and wounds, and that Cleanders, Alcidon and Berontus riding after Lidian and Clarangeus, who being gone this very day (as wee said) put them all in feare that they were gone to fight; made him hope of a favourable occasion to enjoy his Mistresse. She entring (with Clarinda) into his chamber, spake thus unto him: Sir, since the time that I suffered you to see mee at Beauplaine, unknowne to my hus­band, I have beene alwaies followed with a multitude of torments, which have never left mee in peace; and I doe be­leeve that God hath justly suffered them to punish in me the wicked designe which you have had to dishonour a person who entirely loveth you, although I have committed no o­ther offence, but suffering that which I could not hinder, and that I did not give notice of an injury which you procure un­to him, who ought to be more deare unto me than you are, and who ought to bee more deare unto you than I am. This hath beene confirmed unto me in this last affliction, which I have had for your wounds; in which time I made a vow to God, that if he shewed you so much mercy as to suffer you to escape, I would never draw his anger upon my head, by ha­ving [Page 63] any connivence with your crime: I doe entreat you therefore Sir, and conjure you by that love which you say, and I beleeve you beare me, that if you will love mee, you would love mee honourably, and according to the love which I owe unto Cleander, and the friendship which hee beares you; if not, I doe most humbly entreat you to pardon me, if in paying the vow which I have made unto God, and in satisfying the just obligations which are amongst men, I am constrained to entreat you to retire your selfe, and use that great courage (which you make appeare in every danger) to suffer constantly the losse of a person, who cannot be acqui­red lawfully by you.

I would faine have all those who are apprehensive of love, think with what patience Lisander could heare a speech so little looked for, at the instant when hee expected the pos­sessing of a pleasure, so long, and so vainly followed. Ha, Ma­dam, answered he, is it possible that in the midst of so many faire hopes, which you have made me conceive of your pity, you should use mee so cruelly? Is this the recompence of so many services which I have done you, of so many dangers whereinto I have throwne my selfe, of so many wounds which I have received, and so many passions which I yet suffer? Had it not beene better you had then suffered mee to dye when I was so neere death, when I should have felt no paine (it being a kinde of pity to kill those quickly which of necessity must dye) rather than to make me suffer it with so much violence after so much sweetnesse, having prolonged my life to prolong my torment? Alas, it was not without cause I feared to bee healed too soone, seeing that in recove­ring my health, I lose your favour; and then to faine a coun­terfeit vow to excuse your ingratitude, and cover your cruel­ty with the cloake of Religion, will not heaven punish this hypocrisie? Lisander, said Calista, I will speak but one word, after which I entreat you not to hope for any other: I take the same heaven to witnesse (which you doe invoke against me) that I grieve that I cannot love you as you love me; and doe wish that I may be punished according to your desire, if I use either hypocrisie or dissimulation: You wrongfully [Page 64] accuse mee of ingratitude and cruelty, seeing I cannot satisfie you, without being ungratefull unto Cleander; nor have pity upon you, without being cruell unto my selfe. I have told you that I loved you, and with so perfect a love, that it could not bee encreased nor lessened since the first birth thereof; neither am I ignorant of your merits towards me, but with­all, I told you what hindered me from acknowledging them, and to let you see that you lose the glory of your good turnes by the recompence which you require: is there any appea­rance of justice or reason, that for having saved my fathers, my brothers, and my husbands lives, you should bind me to make them lose their honour? Do you think, that if I should forget my selfe so farre, I could excuse my selfe upon the obli­gations wherein I am tyed unto you, and justifie the injury which I should doe them by the services which you have done unto me? Content your selfe that I have no lesse griefe to give you this command, than you have to receive it; and the same passion which you feele, because you cannot ob­tain that which you unlawfully desire, I suffer, because I can­not lawfully yeeld it unto you. At this word Calista went out of the doore, leaving Lisander in that confusion and per­plexity which may easily bee imagined. Hee went three or foure times about the chamber, sat down, and rose, cast him­selfe upon his bedde, and not finding in any place the rest which he every where sought for, after a thousand discourses in his imagination, as little resolved as he was at the first, hee used these words: O ungratefull woman, and I more foole to thinke the earth could beare other! Well, Calista, death shall free mee from thy cruelty (if thy tyranny doth not stretch after death) and so thou shalt avoide the sight of mee, but not of my Ghost, which, together with the Furies, re­vengers of my blood, shall alwayes hang about thy necke; yet I will not dye before I my selfe have enjoyed the content­ment of my revenge, and doe shew thee, that I am as able to hurt thee as to oblige thee. Was there no meanes but a pre­tence of courtesie (like a gentle bit in a horse mouth) to con­straine me to endure this womans indignities? But stay thy madnesse, Lisander; thou thy selfe art both ungratefull and [Page 65] disloyall, whereof thou complainest: base as thou art, thou doest with infidelity and treachery go about to deceive thy friend; thou doest also injurie Calista, because she will not consent unto thy wickednesse. Alas, who shall punish mee for these crimes? and if I be not punished, who shall ever par­don me?

Thus Lisander, sometimes injuring Calista, and then cry­ing her mercy, digested his bitternesse with so much anguish, that hee thought hee should end his life with the day: inso­much that Cleander, who in the morning left him in good disposition, comming home at night with Alcidon and Be­rontus without hearing newes either of Lidian or Clarangeus found him sicke in his bed: Yet he rose early in the morning before Sun, and went unto Cleander, who was a bed with Calista, unto whom (having given him good morrovv) hee said, that resting better this night, than hee had done (al­though with terrible disquiets, out of the feare hee had that Clarangeus and Lidian might fight againe) he found himselfe so well, that he was resolved never to rest untill hee had ei­ther found the one or the other. But my deare friend (said Cleander) the weake estate wherein you are, will not per­mit you; Lesse will my care suffer mee to take rest, answered Lisander, for if it should happen so unfortunately that they should fight againe, I should never enjoy my life; When (re­plyed Cleander) will you come againe? So soone as I shall find them, answered Lisander; who having embraced him, went from him unto the side of the bedde where Calista lay; unto whom (in saluting her) he said aloud: Madam, I should leave you with more sorrow, if I did not know how acceptable the service will be which I goe about to doe unto you. Clean­der beleeved that hee spake this in respect of Lidian, but Cali­sta better apprehending his speeches, referred them to his de­parture: yet faining to understand them in the other sense, answered thus: Sir, you have tyed us in so many bonds, that although you bring backe my brother, hardly can wee bee more obliged; for debts being infinite cannot bee encreased; and from this infinitenesse it followes, that not onely your services are agreeable, but all your other actions in respect of [Page 66] them, although they were not so in their owne nature; but onely your departure, which, in regard it doth deprive us of the contentment wee receive in your company, cannot bee pleasing unto us. Lisander said nothing unto this, but having kissed her, went his way speaking to himselfe; O treacherous Calista, how artificially dost thou hide thy malice, and min­glest sweetnesse with cruelty! From thence he went to take leave of Alcidon and Berontus, who would at any hand ac­company him: but he remonstrated unto them, that it was much better for them to separate themselves, the easier to finde their friends. So going alone, hee tooke his way to­wards Burgundy, and stayed not before he was come unto a sister of his called Ambrisia, who had beene married in that countrey, and then was a young widow, rich, of a great spi­rit, and of an excellent beauty, who receiving her brother as the dearest thing in the world, could not so divert his melan­choly, but that after hee had strove the space of a moneth a­gainst his love, hee yeelded to the violence thereof, and fell from this melancholy into a strange sickenesse, which pro­duced the most admirable effects, that ever memory hath heard. In the meane time, Cleander having a journey to make into Italy, to dispose of some possessions which hee had in Naples, into which place for the like effect hee was accusto­med to goe every three yeeres, left Berontus with Calista, and Calista accompanied with the heaviest solitarinesse that ever she was reduced unto. And unto him there happened this ac­cident, so memorable, that (I think) the like is seldome found in any history: He being gone a great way in Italy, to a place called Aquapendent, at which place alwaies in his journey to Naples hee was accustomed to lodge: the place was incon­venient enough, and Cleander came so late, that the lodgings were all taken, and hee forced to travell further, or lye in the streets. He asked to speake with his old Host, who (said hee) before hee would have suffered mee to bee thus unprovided, would have lyen out of his owne bedde for me. Answer was made, that his old Host was dead; yet there was a chamber where a bedde (if he pleased) should be made for him, but of late time it had beene frequented with spirits, for which [Page 67] cause no man durst lye there. Let me have a bedde there, said Cleander, I had rather lye there with them, than in the streets with my men. A bedde was then made in a chamber, which he knew to be the very same, wherein he was accustomably lodged in the life time of his old Host; where having supped with his people, and being readie for his bedde, his servants retired to looke for such lodgings as the straitnesse of the house would affoord; leaving him with the doore shut un­to him, sitting by the fire side, presently hee heard a noise at the door, and turning his head that way, he saw a man come into the chamber, of the same shape, proportion, and counte­nance that his dead Host was, who comming unto the chair wherein Cleander sate, stood still, stedfastly looking him in the face, without doing or saying any thing. Cleander, whose heart was capable of any thing but feare, felt neverthelesse an unknowne shivering run thorow all his veines, which curd­led his blood; yet he had the heart to say unto him, Good e­ven my Host, I was told you were dead: So I am, answered the Spirit. How then come you here, answered Cleander? I come to tell you that I am killed (said hee) and withall to intreat you, by our ancient acquaintance, that you will cause me to be buried: you shall finde my body in such a pit, under a great heap of stones which have beene cast upon me. I doe conjure you once againe to give me buriall. Well mine Host, answered Cleander, to morrow I will cause you to be buried. Will you no other thing? No, said the Spirit; and giving him good night, retired, leaving Cleander more desirous to see day than to sleep: yet he was not further troubled all that night. The next morning rising very early, he sent for the Justice of the place, unto whom having recited the vision which he saw, not sleeping but waking, and before hee went to bed, hee led him unto the pit which the Spirit had told him of, and finding it full of stones, they caused it to be emptied, un­till they found the body which lay under them, easily known to be the old Host: every body was astonished at the fact. Cleander left the information of the cause unto the Justice, and to acquit himselfe of his promise to the Host, caused him to bee buried with an honourable service; wherein having [Page 68] spent all that day, hee resolved to lye that night againe in the chamber. Being there alone, much about the houre that hee came the night before, my Hoste came againe, and at his entrance into the chamber, hee said, God give you a good evening Sir. Cleander, who could willingly have spared this visitation, answered him, Good even my Hoste: have I not performed my promise? Yes Sir, answe­red the Spirit, I am now come to thanke you, and to tell you, that if you please to command me any thing where I goe, there is nothing which I can doe for you, that I will not doe. Friend (answered Cleander) there is nothing that I have to doe in that countrey which you speake of, where­fore God give you Peace, and the Rest which you desire. The like I wish unto you, said the Spirit, and so Sir I bid you farewell. Farewell my Host, said Cleander; unto whom these complements began to be troublesome Neverthelesse the spi­rit being at the doore ready to goe away, Cleander called him againe, and said unto him, Mine Host, one word with you. The Spirit returning, said, What is your pleasure; Sir▪ I intreat you, said Cleander, if you have any power where you goe, you would oblige mee so farre, as to advertise me of my death three dayes before I dye. Well, answered the Spirit, I will doe it if I can. Thereupon hee vanished, and Cleander presently after going to bed, slept till the morning; neither he nor any other ever after either hearing or seeing any thing in that Chamber.

In this time Lisander lying at his sisters house in Burgundy very sicke, fell into that weakenesse, that hee lost all know­ledge, and was given over by the Physitians (who were ig­norant of his disease) unto the prayers of the religious. Hee had lost both speech and sight, and when he recovered ei­ther, it was onely to see fearefull illusions; or speake raving, or doe such extravagant actions as never entre [...] into the thought of man. Ambrisia bewailing his evill, with teares as bitter as the remedy was desperate, and seeing the Physitians knew not what to give; nor what to doe (as one who is ac­customed to have recourse unto God when humane helpes faile) sent for a Capuchin from a Covent which was neere, [Page 69] to exhort him with constancy to give up his life, unto him who was the author thereof. At her sending, two Capu­chins came, before whom Lisander fell into so grievous a vo­miting, that among other things which he vomited up at his mouth, he cast up Pen-knives, Inke-hornes, Images of waxe, Bracelets of haire, Cart-nailes: which were not illusions, and fained, but so reall and true, that they yet remaine in the hands of the Capuchins, and are kept as perpetuall reliques unto their Covent. These good Fathers seeing so wonder­full a Prodigie, lifted up their eyes and voices to heaven, pray­ing God to have pity upon this Knights soule, whose body they thought was so neere an end. One of the two, who was young, and who hid a goodly personage, and a beautifull fac [...] under this poore habit, began to poure forth so many teares, that all the standers by no lesse wondred at him, than at the unknowne and strange sickenesse of Lisander; unto whom, seeing him a little recover his spirits, hee spake in this manner; Lisander, my ancient friend, seeing it hath pleased God to reduce you into this pitifull estate, bee it either to call you to the glory of a second life, or to let you see the misery of this, pull out of your minde these deceiving thoughts of the World, before you bee constrained to leave them, and lift your minde unto heaven, before you goe thither: You shall see that it is the Haven of our Navigation, the end of our Course, and the true land which hath beene promised by our Father. This is a cursed one, into which we have beene banished for our sinnes, and our bodies are the Prisons where wee are detained: If it please God that it bee broken by death, and that you bee called from this banishment, re­solve your selfe freely to the liberty of your soule, and unto the glorious returne thereof into the holy city of the heaven­ly Jerusalem, which is the naturall Countrey thereof. There shall you bee free from so many travels wherewith you are now enslaved, and there shall you no more remember the storme [...] wherewith you have beene beaten; you shall onely there give praise to God, that you have avoided them with­out shipwrack, enjoying the soveraigne good in recompence of all your evils, and changing the miserable condition of [Page 70] man into the happinesse of Angels: Courage then Lisander, valiantly meet death in the face, whom you have so many times braved in the most perillous hazzards of this life; the passage from earth unto heaven is not so terrible, nor so pain­full as is thought: Our Lord hath himselfe plained the way, and so disarmed death, that hee can neither hurt nor feare those, who rest assuredly in his goodnesse. Emplore his aide, hee neither can nor will refuse any person relying upon him: for, what can hee refuse unto us, having given himselfe for us? so much lessening himselfe, as to be borne basely, to live poorely, to dye shamefully, that if his divinity had not beene witnessed, not alone by men living and dead, but by Angels and by Devils, the obeying of the windes and waters, by the trembling of the earth, and darkning of the Sunne; it would bee impossible to receive it in our beleefe. Lisander eased by the voiding of these things which hee had vomited, and comforted by the remonstrance of this good religious man, lifted up his [...]ye [...] to his face, and having earnestly beheld him a good space, labouring to recover his speech, and to remem­ber where hee had seene him, in a feeble and broken voice, spake unto him in this manner. Father, I have alwaies little feared Death, assuredly trusting in Gods mercy; wherefore my hope of one, surpassing my feare of the other, I cannot be affraid of a passage which is common to all men; I know nothing is more naturall, that living is not more ordinary than dying: And so farre am I from being astonished at it, that I confesse, I have desired it with lesse [...]eare than impati­ence. That which afflicteth me, and feareth me, is to see things come out of my body, which never entred into it, nor can­not bee framed there, and therefore cannot come naturally from me. And if any wonder can have place in my minde, next unto that, [...] is to see my selfe knowne, and to heare my selfe named in this agony by a man, whose face I think I have seene, and heard his voice in another world, and in another habit. This good man discovering then his head, which was almost hid under his Coule, and making himselfe knowne unto Lisander, with teares in his eyes in kissing him, said, if nothing were wanting unto your health, but the remo­ving [Page 71] of these two causes of astonishment, I durst promise my selfe to see you well; no lesse astonishing the company with the Miracle of your healing, than it is yet with the wonder of your evill: For the things which you have vomited, al­though they are true, and seeme to be truely come out of your body, ought rather to bee ascribed to the illusions of the evill Spirit, who hath deceived our sense, than unto the testimony of our owne eyes. And it is to bee beleeved that they are re­all, seeing they are palpable: But it is to be beleeved also that hee hath charmed our sight, as the Operator, who last hea­led you, charmed your wounds and healed them, in apply­ing salves to your Doublet. And it is likely that from this first charme, proceeds now this second: For the Devill hath done nothing for nothing, and did not succour you in that extremity, but onely to reduce you into a greater. As for your astonishment, which proceedeth from my knowing you, I thinke it is now wiped away: And Clarangeus, having beene so perfect a friend unto Lisander, cannot be unknowne by so strange a change as mine, or by the violence of a sicknesse like yours. For the rest, you have reason in saying you have seene me in another world; for this wherein I now am, is much differing from that wherin I then was. Lisander, who know­ing Clarangeus (who, cast from serving, and banished from the presence of Olinda, had confined himselfe into a Cloyster) embracing him, with a joy mingled with sorrow and asto­nishment to see him in this habit, answered: Is it possible that my eyes doe not deceive me, Clarangeus, and that it is not one of the illusions of my sickenesse? how have you left the world? As those (replyed Clarangeus) who being beaten by stormes at Sea, doe search for some safe Port where they may bee covered from the tempest. O how happy are you, said Lisander, to have that power of your selfe! Yea, if you knew the happinesse, said Clarangeus, and if after so many stormes wherewith you have beene beaten, you would (with mee) prove the sweetnesse and quietnesse of a religious life, you would despise and mocke at Honours, Loves, and other va­nities, which cast away the most part of men. I would to God, said Lisander, I could doe it, but I know my selfe so [Page 72] weake & so chained to the world, that though I should leave it to day; I should take it againe to morrow; and, as it ordi­narily happens, my second entrance would bee much worse than my first. You have reason, replied Clarangeus, For as there is nothing worse for health, than to passe from one ex­tremity to another; so there is nothing more dangerous in the world, than to goe from a religious life unto an irregular one. From thence it comes, that there is nothing more evill than a Monke, who hath cast away his frocke; and that the most par [...] of our errors owe their birth unto these Apostata's, who, as vipers, doe endevour in their birth to rend the sides of their mother. Ambrisia, and many Gentlemen of the Countrey, who were come to see her in this sicknesse of her brothers, were no lesse joyfull to see him so well recovered, than of Clarangeus his discourse & knowledge. Unto whom Lisander in continuing his speech said, that not finding him­selfe strong enough to observe such a perpetuall vow, he pro­mised ( [...] the least if it pleased God to restore him to his for­mer health) the first voiage he would undertake after his sick­nesse, should be unto our Lady of Mount Serra [...]. Clarangeus confirmed him in this devotion, and afterwards taking his leave, hee returned with the other religious man into the Covent.

Shortly after, were it by the prayers of those good Fathers, or through Lisanders vow, hee began to amend; but (as the proverbe faith) sickenesses come on horsebacke, and goe a­way on foote, of a Snailes pace. It was fifteene dayes before hee could rise out of his bedde, and fifteene dayes more after hee was out of his bed before hee could get strength: which being past, and having visited his friends, but principally Cla­rangeu [...], and taken leave of his Sister Ambrisia, hee secretly caused a [...]acket of gray Serge to bee made, and a Cloake of skinnes over it, and having gotten a Palmers staffe, in a faire Evening hee began his Pilgrimage. In the meane time some of those who had left him sicke, going unto Paris, not onely carried newes of his sickenesse, but of the habit which Cla­rangeus had taken; which brought forth no lesse astonish­ment than sorrow in the minds of their Friends. Olinda her­selfe [Page 73] witnessed some feeling of pity which shee had of poore Clarangeus, and it was encreased by the griefe shee had for Li­dians losse; But this was nothing in respect of what Calista suffered for Lisanders sickenesse, she being so much the more afflicted, by how much shee durst not make it appeare, al­though her brothers and her husbands absence had been co­lour enough for her to have justified her griefe. Alcidon be­ing advertised of these accidents, which happened after the departure of his friends, determined to goe see them, and ta­king his leave of Argire, took his journy towards Burgundy: But finding Lisander gone, and being no lesse glad to heare that hee was well recovered, than sorrowfull because hee knew not whither hee was gone, he went unto the Covent, which Clarangeus had chosen for his aboad. He came a little after their Evening song, and being guided unto his chamber, found that hee was busied in making a little woodden frame for a window. Alcidon embraced him not without some teares of Compassion, and being joyfully received by Claran­geus, they sate them down, a table being betweene them, up­on which Clarangeus had set his window frame; and then Alcidon began to say unto him, Sir, is this the trade of so brave a Gentleman as you are? have you so much forgotten what you are in the world, that you will ruine your fortune, together with the hope of your friends? But if you have no respect of them, at the least have consideration what your enemies will say; Doe you thinke that they will beleeve that Devotion hath reduced you unto this Cloyster? no truely, they will beleeve rather that it is some violent passion of love, or some weakenesse of spirit, which hath rather by de­spaire than sound judgement transported you. I tell you, an­swered Clarangeus, that this is an excellent fine frame for a window, and the chamber will be much the better; when it shall be set up. Ha, Sir, answered Alcidon, what do you utter? leave these frames and windowes, are those things worthy of your courage? will you shut up that greatnesse which doth attend you within this little chamber? But I tell you, an­swered Clarangeus, that with a little oyle of Spike it will bee cleere, and the smell will not bee amisse. Alcidon seeing that [Page 74] hee answered so from the ma [...]ter, in the end said unto him, Sir, I see well that the discourse doth not please you, I will follow it no further, but only to assure you, that it proceedeth from affection which I have long borne unto you, & which I will pr [...]serve unto you, so long as I shall remember your merits which doe oblige mee. Sir, said Clarangeus, when you shall speak of any thing to me which is not against my salva­tion, I shall be glad to hearken unto you, and to answer you, as one who hath alwaies dearely esteemed, and will eternal­ly cherish the memory of your friendship: But I pray speake no more of returning into the armes of so dangerous an ene­my, as the world; I am exceeding happy that I have escaped so good cheap, and I shall alwaies blesse my disgraces, which have wrought mee this felicity. Alcidon would not further impor [...]ne him, but taking leave of him, and lodging one night a [...] Ambris [...]a's house, tooke pos [...]e the next day to returne to the Cour [...], where being come, he delivered unto Calista the newes of Lisanders health, and confirmed unto Olinda that which she had formerly heard of Clarangeus his vow, leaving [...]hem both in care to know what was become of Lidian and Lisander.

Calista in this time ledde so solitary and retired a life, that she was neither visited, neither did shee visite any body, but Olinda and Argire. And although the bravest and greatest in the Court sighed for her love, and that she was the subject of the richest [...], and of the beautifullest Spirits in France, who all together assailed her chastity; they were nevertheless but as wayes against a rocke, which break themselves with­out moving it: so that shee was no lesse admired for her ver­tue, than adored for her beauty. But, as wee seeme to have more [...]lination to evill than to good, Clarinda was not able to [...] her in this perfect example of chastity, which shee practised before her, as shee did in the favour which shee had lightly y [...]ded unto Lisander ▪ then when shee permitted him [...] see [...] she contented her selfe within the bounds of her [...] honesty, her example had with reason ser­ved her; but shee passed so far in love to a young Gentleman [...], who often visited Berontus, more for the love [Page 75] which hee bare unto Clarinda than unto him, that Calista was constrained to open her eyes: But her misfortune was such, that having communicated unto this Maide the honest love which she bare unto Lisander, she durst not chastise her, nor reprehend her with the free liberty of a Mistresse, fearing nothing; doubting (that as the false glasses which represent all faces much different from the naturall) shee should make her owne affection seeme cleane otherwayes than it was, she onely gently remonstrated unto her her fault, and not da­ring to search the soare unto the bottome, shee suffered it to encrease to that height, that it was past all hope of cure, and grew the Spring of all misfortunes, which we shall see in the sequell of this Story.

IN the Booke going before we have left Li­sander going towards our Lady of Mount Serrat, who (because hee would not be drawne to stay in townes, thorow which he might passe, nor at strange sights which he might see) travelled fortie dayes after his departure, over those high mountaines which serve as an e­verlasting barre betweene two of the greatest kingdomes in the world; and entring by the countrey of Rosilion into Cato­lonia, he came in the end to the holy Monastery of the blessed Virgin. After hee had paid his vowes, confessed his sinnes with teares, and prayed with fervency, as he rose up from be­fore the great Altar where hee had kneeled, beholding the beauty of the Temple, and the rich Tapestry wherewith it was adorned; hee saw three or foure men apparelled like slaves, standing under a Lampe of silver, which was lighted before the holy Image: and one of them who by his shape, fashion and action seemed to be master of the other, although hee was no better cloathed than they, asked the Sexton why this silver Lampe was placed before the other of gold, which was much richer and bigger than the other? who answered unto him in this manner; That Lampe of silver which you [Page 78] see there, was heretofore vowed by a King of France, and that which is after it, was given by our King: and as well because it is gold, and so to be preferred before the other (be­ing silver, lesse also in quantity and quality) as because it see­med unjust that any other whatsoever, should precede our great King in his kingdome, he preceding all others in exten­sion of Empire; wee have divers times endevoured to place that of Spaine before that of France, and as often lost our time as we did endevour it, because in the next morning we found them againe in their first order; so that we have beene constrained to let them alone, after wee had in vaine a thou­sand times changed them. Your King (said the Slave then) ought hereby to know, that there is a superiour power which will not suffer him to dispute the right of eldership with the King of France, neither did hee ever dispute it but to his losse, nor ever shall but to his confusion. Presently did Lisan­der by his gesture and speech know this Slave; yet the strange habit wherein he was cloathed, and great distance from the place where he had left him, contradicted his judgement, and made him doubt of what hee saw. But the Slave beholding him, and being in the like perplexity and doubt, could not i­magine that this Pilgrime was the same Lisander, who foure or five months before had left him in Paris; wherefore to cleare his doubt, he came unto him, & then knew him plain­ly both in face and voice.

Lisander seeing it was his friend Cleander, running to em­brace him, with teares of joy, asked him by what good or evill fortune he was met in a place so remote from his owne, and in a habite so differing from his condition. Cleander no lesse ravished with the same astonishment and joy, asked him the like question. The admiration of this meeting cea­sing, they entred into greater, when they told unto one ano­ther the accidents which happened unto them. Lisander told him how hee had beene sicke, and of those strange things which prodigiously hee had vomited at his mouth, and how having beene visited by the Capuchins when all hope of life was lost, he was knowne by Clarangeus, now entred in­to a religious Order, whose conversation, together with his [Page 79] owne extreme sickenesse, had caused him to make that vow which he had there to pay, never once thinking of so happy an encounter. Cleander, more wondring than before at his friends relation, in exchange, told him the discourse of his owne journey, and the vision of his Hoste; and proceeding in telling what you have heard, hee also said, how being re­turned from Naples to Rome, and from thence to Lygorne, the convenience of a small Galley which was bound for Marcels, and the desire which hee had to hasten his returne into France, made him imbarque himselfe: but being upon the coast of Genoa, they were encountred by a Pirate of Ar­gire named Marrabut, who having quickly taken them (be­ing altogether without armes, and so without any meanes of resistance) was carrying them into Affrick, when a storm, favourable unto all us Captives, cast him into the Gulfe of Barcelon, where being retaken by a Galley of Malta, which a Spanish Knight commanded, they were set at liberty; and seeing himselfe so neere unto our Lady of Mount Serrat, hee had come thither to give thankes unto God for his delive­rance.

That day, and the night following they ate and rested to­gether, they and their people (for the other Slaves with Cle­ander were his servants, and Lisander had a Gentleman and two Lackeyes with him:) Cleander enquiring if hee had learnt any newes of Lidian. I did perswade my selfe (an­swered Lisander) that I should have learnt something of him from Clarangeus, but he told mee, that hee had neither seene him not heard of him, since the time they departed from O­linda. I much feare, said Cleander, that the same despaire which wrought upon Clarang [...]us, hath also brought him to the like extremity. With this talke, sleepe, assisted with wea­rinesse, tooke fast hold of them, untill it was faire day next morning, which was a great feast unto our Lady: upon which occasion a number of Pilgrims were come unto the Covent, when word was brought them, that they should rise, if they would heare a Hermite of the mountain preach; unto whom (in regard of the great fruite of his eloquence) it was permitted, being otherwayes against the rule which [Page 80] forbid them, the better to follow their contemplative life. This newes made them rise, and goe to the Church, where the Sermon was already begun, and so great a number of Pilgrims, that they could not come neere the Pulpit. At the first they perceived this Hermits Eloquence to bee accompa­nied with great youth, and excellent beauty, whereby hee no lesse delighted his Auditors eyes with his sight, than hee charmed their eares with his words: Hee had such action in his speech, and such grace in his action, that he raised atten­tion with no lesse admiration than silence▪ and although he spake Spanish, hee was so neat in his discourse, saying no­thing which could well be omitted, nor omitting any thing which ought to be spoken: his words were neither curious nor affected, but did properly signifie the things which hee would expresse, and were received by long use and custome; a rule which whoso followes cannot faile. Hee spake not a­lone from his lippes, but from his heart: neither did hee al­wayes observe one sound in his voice, but did carry it accor­ding to the diversity of the subject; alwayes grave and deli­berate, full of sentences, without staying upon after repetiti­ons for the spending of his houre; sometimes more earnest, sometimes more gentle, but never idely wandring from his matter. And as his words were not affected, so his counte­nance was not composed, but naturall and without art. His discourse was free, but orderly: in briefe, so excellent, that our Pilgrims, who were borne and nourished in the pure French ayre, did wonder that Spaine could bring forth so ex­cellent a spirit: but at the end of his Sermon, having discove­red his head, and Lisander considering him more nearely, judged by many circumstances, but principally by the ayre of his countenance, that hee had nothing in him of Spanish but his tongue; and leaning unto Cleander, said unto him in his eare, What thinke you of this Hermite? is hee not an able man? So good, answered Cleander, that if hee did appeare to mee but little lesse, I would say I knew him: but fearing to witnesse my being deceived, I dare not speake what I thinke. Thinke you what you will, answered Lisander; but if I did beleeve that Lidian were learned, and spake so good Spanish, [Page 81] all the world should not perswade mee, that hee were any other. For Spanish, answered Cleander, hee speakes it as na­turally as French, and so he doth Latine and Italian: But for the doctrine, although he be not so ignorant as the most part of our French Gentlemen, who (out of an unexcusable sot­tishnesse) doe take it as a glory to bee ignorant of learning; yet I doe not thinke him capable of treating of this point, whereof this Hermite hath so happily acquitted himselfe. Whilest they thus discoursed, Lidian (being the same Hermit of whom they spake) whom despaire (whereinto his Mi­stresse had driven him as well as Clarangeus) had brought in­to this Mountaine, comming out of his Pulpet, went into a little Chappell, and kneeled before the Altar: whither Cle­ander, together with Lisander, and their servants following, the better to cleere the suspicion which they had that he was his brother-in-law, after the Hermit had finished his praying, said unto him, Father, wee are here three or foure French slaves, who within small time have beene taken captives by the Turkes, and have beene delivered, yet have lost all that we have; I doe therefore pray, if you preach againe this day or to morrow, to doe us the favour to recommend our po­verty unto the charitable almes of your well disposed audi­ence. Lidian looking stedfastly upon him who thus spake, and seeing Cleander cloathed in those ragges, which were no other than a redde Wast-coate of poore Cotton, a paire of Breeches of course cloath, and a blew Cap which hee had in his hand, not being able to imagine that it was his brother-in-law, who was reduced to this fortune, asked him with a troubled countenance, and an unassured voice, in what part of France he was borne, how he was taken, and whither he was going when this misfortune happened? Wee are borne in the Ile of France (answered Cleander) at least I am, & those whom you may see in this habite; for this Pilgrim, and those who accompany him, they are of another part: we were ta­ken comming from Italy, whither wee went in quest of a Knight whom the cruelty of a Lady hath banished out of France. While hee was thus speaking, both hee and Lisander had alwayes their eyes fixed upon Lidian, who with an un­constant [Page 82] countenance often changing colour, confessing what he could not deny, in embracing him, said, Oh brother you have found him; for how can I hide my name from you, from whom I could never hide my heart? It is not pos­sible to describe the first motions of this meeting; yet after long embracing in silence, Cleander said, Brother, embrace this Pilgrime, who is also of the countrey, and will tell you newes which will bee no lesse welcome unto you than my comming. The joy wonderfully encreased by Lidians know­ledge of Lisander, who in few words told him, how his al­most mortall sickenesse had wrought in him this heavenly vow. In which sickenesse he had been visited by Clarangeus, who had changed the worldly pompe, and his vaine preten­ces to Olinda's love, into a Capuchins habit; which brought so great admiration into Lidians mind, that he did not know whether hee should thinke them dreames or truthes. For who would have thought young men so ingaged in love, that they thereby had ruined the foundations of an ancient friendship, and had beene carried unto such dangerous extre­mities, through such small occasions; should in one and the same time choose for their retraict, the one the Cloister of so austere a profession as the Capuchins, and the other the Cells of so retired an Hermitage? Who also could have be­leeved, that two friends, whom the Alpes and Perrenian Mountaines had divided by wayes and designes so distant, and contrary one unto the other, should meet in one time, in a place so remote from their affaires, and in habits so dif­fering from their conditions? But to returne unto our disgui­sed Knights, who seeing the other Pilgrims assemble about them, as curious to know how these extraordinary embra­cings would end, retired themselves into the Covent, where dining together, after many discourses▪ they resolved to leave the Hermitage, and Mount Serrat, and the next morning to take their way towards France. After dinner Lidian made another Sermon, at the end whereof (praying God to blesse the assembly, and graciously to accept of those vowes which were paid in the Temple) hee tooke leave first of the holy Virgin, of the religious Order, and of the holy Mountaines, [Page 83] where hee had ledde a life so solitary, and so sweet; delive­ring his last farewell in such pitifull words, and with de­monstrations of so tender an affection, that they pierced the very Rockes, and the walls of this devout house. The next morning, together with their people, all three of them began their journey: and because Lisander could not leave his Pil­grims habite without breaking his vow, Cleander and Lidi­an also determined to weare theirs untill they were come home; so one under the habite of an Hermite, and the other of a Slave, accompanied our Pilgrime, with as much content­ment in their returne, as they had sorrow at their going out. They entred France by Languedock, and by easie journyes they came in a month into Burgundy. Ambrisia was then at Paris with Calista, who loved her both for her owne merit, and her brothers sake, although shee knew nothing of their affections. But Clarangeus was in the same Covent where Lisander left him, who together with his companions going one afternoone to see him, they found him walking alone in a Garden. Now it was not hard for him to know Lisander, because he knew the vow which hee had made in his sicke­nesse; but when he saw him accompanied with an Hermite and a Slave, he knew not what to thinke of either, but salu­ted both without knowing of them. Afterwards turning himselfe unto Lisander, I thinke, said he, in a low voice, that in steed of amendment by your Pilgrimage, you debauch o­thers, and have reduced this young Hermite from the solita­ry life of Mount Serrat, to intangle himselfe againe with the world. It is true, answered Lisander, but it is upon so good occasion, that there is more merit in the action, than offence. What merit, replied Clarangeus, can you finde in causing him to breake his vow made unto God, and yeeld himselfe to the service of his enemies? Vow hee hath made none, an­swered Lisander, and so broken none; for he hath not taken this habite, but to leave it when the evill influence of a starre (the onely cause why hee tooke it) is passed over. And of me­rit it cannot be said that I have lesse than is acquired by recon­ciling of two persons who were alwayes one, & lately upon a light occasion divided.

[Page 84]You have reason (answered Clarangeus, not imagining of whom he spake) for Charitie is recommended unto us a­bove all vertues, and without it all other are unprofitable; For this cause are we commanded to leave our offering at the foote of the altar, and reconcile our selves unto our brother, and then returne to our offering void of all passion. I am well assured, answered Lisander, that you know this better than I doe; but dispute with this man, whom you will not finde ignorant, and I thinke, it is with a religious man of this house, with whom he desireth to be reconciled. This word comming neere unto Clarangeus, made him remember the difference hee formerly had with Lidian, and in the instant earnestly beholding him, hee cryed out: O God, how mar­vellous are thy workes! Lidian approaching unto him, they embraced, not without sorrow for their past follies, yet min­gled with such joy, that it brought shew of teares into their eyes. Sir, said Lidian, by that love which you beare unto the religion which now you have undertaken, I doe entreat you to pardon those displeasures which I have done you, and be­leeve, that the sorrow which I apprehend doth farre exceede the punishment due unto my fault. It is I, said Clarangeus, who doe cry you mercy for the griefe which I have foolishly raised unto you, and if I have received any from you, I am so much the more obliged unto you, as unto the cause of this celestiall happinesse which I enjoy in this Cloister, and it ma­keth mee hope for the glorious life which is in heaven. En­joy therefore (O Lidian) your love without feare ever to bee troubled by Clarangeus, and suffer me to possesse the content­ment which I have in my soule, by having none in this world. But this is not all (said Lisander) you must needs goe with us, not to stay, seeing you will not, but to helpe us con­vert a Moorish Slave, whom wee have in our company, who would willingly be of our religion. Clarangeus, who at first thought that hee mocked him, was about to tell him, that hee had profited little either by his sickenesse or pilgri­mage, when intentively beholding Cleander, upon whom (so busie he was in embracing Lidian) he had not yet so much as cast a looke, and lesse imagined that hee was there present, [Page 85] he fell from his first admiration into amazement. It were a new story to relate the words, the imbracings and enter­tainments which passed betweene them; wherefore I will omit them, and onely say, that after the first motions of this sudden joy was over, it was agreed that Clarangeus should aske licence of his Superiours to goe stay some time in the house of the Capuchins at Paris, and that they would stay for him at Dijon, from thence to go all together to Paris. De­parting in this resolution, that very night Clarangeus deman­ded and obtained of the Fathers, leave to goe to Paris in the company of another of the Order, whom they gave to him for a companion: and having received their benediction, he went the next morning to his friends, who waited for his comming. Thus went these foure together, whilest Calista in the meane time afflicted with an extreme sorrow, which daily increased in her, through Cleanders not returning, and by Clarinda's evill deportments, which by Calista's gentlenesse were now growne insufferable; neither was Lisanders and Lidians absence a small cause.

In this adversity, besides the ordinary visiting of Olinda and Argire, she was seldome without the company of Am­brisia, and Otranta her mother; whose presence would have diverted much of her evill, if it had beene curable by com­panie: yet shee set a merrier countenance upon it, than the sadnesse of her minde would well suffer. But disloyall Cla­rinda being come to such a degree of impudency, that shee made no scruple to admit Leon into her chamber after her Mistresse was in bedde, so farre wounded Calista's patience, that breaking into a most just choler, she discharged her, gi­ving her but three dayes warning, either to retire to her friends, or otherwayes to provide for her selfe. Clarinda growing desparate at this putting away, knowing that to­gether with her Mistresse shee lost her friend, besides the dis­credite which it would be, to be turned away upon such an occasion, which shee did beleeve Calista would never con­ceale, determined to prevent her in accusing her Mistresse for her owne fault; like as falling into one depth hasteneth unto another, so shee endevoured to cloake her sinne with a [Page 86] crime, and to weave the basest and treacheroulest infidelity, that ever came within the compasse of any wicked womans heart.

In this thought weeping, Berontus comming unto her, whilest Calista entertained Otranta and Ambrisia, who knew nothing of Clarinda's act, asked her the cause of her teares; and finding that they proceeded from her turning a­way, more curious to know the cause thereof, than of her teares, said unto her, Clarinda, my sister is moved to this ex­tremity by some great cause; I pray thee tell it mee, and I pro­mise, I will either reconcile thee againe unto her (if I can) or if I cannot, I will otherwaies work you so good conditions, that you shall not sorrow for your departure from her, and this I promise upon mine honour; also if it bee for a cause not fit to bee spoken, I sweare never to utter it to any. Sir, (answered Clarinda, who knew that Berontus envied Li­sanders vertue) under the assurance of your promise, and to discharge my conscience of the treason which I have beene constrayned to use against my Lord Cleander, in serving my Lady Calista, I will tell you that, which to my great griefe I have concealed untill this time: After that my Lady had heard Lisanders plaints which he made for her in the woods of Beauplaine (where I thinke you then were) shee so farre imprinted his love in her minde, that her heart never tooke rest, nor I ever saw good time about her. From thence pro­ceeded the Alarum which one night you had at Beauplaine, occasioned by Lisander, whom my Lady had brought into her chamber unknowne unto any body, whatsoever I could say to divert her, and with so small discretion, that hee was very likely to be surprized by my Lord. Then mingling this truth for the greater credit of her lies, shee told him at large what you have heard of Lisander, when hee saved himselfe out of Calista's chamber: and continuing her discourse, she added that from thence proceeded her Ladies sadnesse, and affliction, wherewith she was so continually overwhelmed, uncessantly bewailing Lisanders absence, under the colour of her brothers and husbands. Finally, she told him, that from thence proceeded her disgrace, because shee could no [...] ap­plaud [Page 87] nor approve an affection so contrarie unto her ho­nour, and so detested by God and man: adding so many teares and oaths unto her words, that Berontus (who knew the subject was both amiable and worthy) was drawne to a beliefe, at the least of part, and wondred that Li­sander was the theefe who would have stolne away his bro­thers honor; yet respecting his sister in law, & withall despe­rately of late loving Ambrisia, by consequence was obliged to do nothing rashly against Lisander, but only desired to cleer so dangerous a suspicion, and never to speake of it but when he could verifie it. Hee judged that these lovers would never stay in so faire a beginning, if Lisander were once returned, and that by Clarinda's meanes it would bee easie to surprize them; or if Lisander did never returne, hee resolved to rake it up in silence, and never to trouble his brothers mind or house with discovering an evill, which could never bee helped: wherefore hee forbad Clarinda to speake any word, or to make any shew that she had spoken of it, promising that he would worke her into her Ladies favour and service, upon condition that she would advertise him of her actions, and chiefly of Lisanders comming. Instantly going to Calista, and taking her apart, said so much of Clarinda's fidelity, of the af­fection she bare unto her service, and of her sorrow to leave her (concealing what had past betweene them) that Calista's easie and pitifull nature, overcome by his prayers, and decei­ved by them both, Clarinda was again received into favour, at least into service, & Calista nourished an enemy in her house, who lightened forth strange and miserable effects in small time after.

But at that time Argire willing to acknowledge her Al­cidons faithfull affections, determined to affiance her selfe un­to him in the presence of Otranta, Calista, Ambrisia, & Olinda, who were all entreated by her, and onely Berontus and Leon by Alcidon, the solemnity being deferred untill the returne of their friends. Thus being all together after dinner with Ar­gire, who, as we have said, seldom went from Calista's house, a Page came in and told them, that a man was at the doore who desired to deliver them some newes of Cleander. Calista, [Page 88] who most of all desired to know them, cryed, I pray thee let him come in: and not having patience enough to stay his en­trance, was rising up to goe meet him, but was prevented; for there entred in a straight young man, with a browne haire, and sparkling eyes, a sweet and spritely looke, his face being no lesse excellently composed than was his body: His gate, his motion, and his Pilgrims habite made him known unto Ambrisia for her brother, sooner than unto any other, because she had seene him put on this habite, and onely of all the company knew the secret of his voyage; wherefore sud­denly rising up, shee cast her selfe with her armes about his necke, before Calista had leisure to behold him, saying onely, Brother, Brother, is it you? Calista hearing this name, and beholding this face, which was so lively imprinted in her minde, was ready to snatch him out of his sisters armes, to receive the kisses which with an envious eye shee saw gathe­red from his lippes. But she discreetly retayned her selfe, see­ing the assembly, of all whom he was knowne, unlesse it were of Otranta, who hearing that this was Lisander, unto whom she was so much obliged, and whom she had so ear­nestly desired to see; received him with no lesse joy than if he had beene her onely son Lidian. Argire, Olinda, Alcidon and Berontus for Ambrisia's sake, entertained him with no lesse joy for his happy returne, so much desired of all, but onely of Leon and Clarinda, who feared, in regard of their foolish words which they had spoken. All this contentment might in some measure bee exprest, but Calista's can onely bee ap­prehended by thought, who having with great impatience suffered all the company to salute him, in the end, said unto him; Sir, is it you who was said to bring newes from Clean­der? Yea, Madam, answered hee, for going (upon my reco­very out of a sickenesse, whereof it may bee my Sister hath told you) in this habite to our Lady of Mount Serrat, I met with a Slave, who told me, hee had met him at Rome com­ming from Naples; and that hee had followed him to Li­gorne, where being embarked both for Marcels, they were taken upon the coast of Genoa by a Pirat of Argire, who in his carrying them unto Affricke, was by a storme driven in­to the Gulfe of Barcelon, and there taken by a Galley of Mal­ta, [Page 89] who set all the slaves at liberty. This man is come along in my company all my journey, and can tell you more parti­culars, if you please to see him. O God, said Calista, where is hee? Here hard by (answered Lisander) and I doe assure my selfe, that his sight will bring you contentment. The Slave then appearing at the doore in his Wast-coate of redde Fryse, his Breeches of course Canvas, and his blew Cap; Calista would have demanded newes of Cleander, but finding that it was hee himselfe, she for joy (for his unexpected, but most welcom comming) fell almost in a swoune in his armes. Be­ing thus busied in knowing Cleander, and entertaining of Lisander, Clarangeus entred into the roome, who was pre­sently knowne by Alcidon and Ambrisia, who had seene him in that habite before, and went before all the other to salute him: Olinda was not long after before shee knew him, and witnessed by the change of her colour, the trouble which his presence brought her. Calista being hardly come out of her husbands armes to suffer others to salute him, and going to salute Clarangeus, whom shee had but now seene, shee tur­ned her selfe unto Otranta, who was talking with Lisander, and said unto her, Madam, here wants none now but my Brother to satisfie our desire. You ought, Sir, said shee unto Lisander, to have brought him backe also, aswell as the other. Madam, said he, it is true that we have found him preaching at our Ladies of Mount Serrat in the habit of a Hermite, and have used our best endevours to bring him with us; but he told us, that hee would never come backe but by her com­mand, who banished him: and having heard her say that shee would witnesse most affection unto him, that should bee most obedient unto her, of Clarangeus or himselfe; he was resolved not to bee the least obedient. Madam, said Cla­rangeus then unto Olinda (who attentively hearkened unto this discourse) it doth now wholly depend on you to give contentment unto this faire company, and to satisfie what you owe unto Lidians love and your owne promise, in cal­ling him backe againe: You know you promised to receive into your favour him of us two, who should come last unto you; I am upon this occasion come first, that you may not [Page 90] have any pretence to breake your word with him. I beleeve the time hath been, when you did thinke I would never have summoned you to this promise, in favour of any other: but those things are the blessings which God bestoweth upon them who doe seeke him. It is certaine, Madam, that no­thing but hee hath made mee resolve, nothing but hee hath sweetned the sorrow I had for your losse, and as I left the world because I could not finde any thing which might in­cite my stay after this losse, so having sequestred my selfe from it, I have found that rest and contentment, which I could ne­ver finde before: Live therefore happily with him, since that you desire it; and beleeve, that hee cannot be so obliged to your favours due unto his affection, as I am unto your cru­elty, by which you have procured unto mee this happy estate of life. Olinda not knowing what to answer unto this speech, and more desiring Lidians returne than they did, who per­swaded her; Calista spake in this manner unto Olinda, Why deare heart wilt thou confine my brother in those deserts? wilt thou deprive me of so deare company? hath hee com­mitted any offence worthy of this usage? And shall I (said Otranta) having but one Sonne, lose him for your disdaine? I pray thee, sweetest faire, be contented that you have made this Knight become a Capuchin, and accept of the acknow­ledgement of the power of your beauty, without Lidians be­comming a Hermite. Alas Madam, answered Olinda, my greatest sorrow is, that he is not here now, that I might wit­nesse before this company, how much I honour him: but I doubt not, but the occasion which made mee separate my selfe from him, is remembred by you all, and will serve to excuse me. It is sufficient, answered Lisander, seeing Olinda consenteth to his returne; and if shee please to permit me, I will goe seeke, and undertake to bring him back in lesse time than any one can goe thither. At these words Lidian making the last in the dance entred, easing Lisander of the paine of seeking him, and Olinda of the shame to suffer him. Who can tell you the astonishment and joy of the company? especial­ly Calista's and Otranta's, which exceeded all expressing. He was a longtime in the armes of these two last, not being [Page 91] able to breake from them: Afterwards hee kneeled before Olinda, saying, Pardon me, Madam, (although I have not of­fended) if not for the penance which I have suffered, yet for the reverence of this habite, which I here lay at her feete who made mee take it. I know not whether he blasphemed in saying so, or no; but Clarangeus was offended with hea­ring, and Olinda with understanding: yet all things being permitted to the amorous, this word was given to Lidians passion, who was not accustomed to preach unto others what hee practised: so indulgent are we in our owne faults, and severe in others. Olinda answered, that he should not ex­cuse faults imagined, not done, with such low humility, nor make her blush with his submission, which was the grea­test fault whereof she could accuse him. And at these words Lisander enterposing, and particularly entertaining Olinda, told her so much of Lidians love and fidelity, made now so cleare by so strong and manifest a proofe; that first Claran­geus, and after all the company joyning to Lisanders pray­ers, who interceded for Lidian, the faire Olinda promised marriage: and the same Priest who had betroathed Argire to Alcidon, did also the like for Olinda and Lidian the same day, and in the same place; so that Lidians being made sure, was knowne before his comming home: The contentment of all the company is easier imagined than expressed. Presently was it knowne through the Towne that Cleander, Lidian and Lisander were returned (for they were men of that eminent quality, that their presence was no more to bee concealed than the light of the Sunne) with the religious man Claran­geus, who that night retiring himselfe into his Covent, left Lidian in company with Olinda, Alcidon with Argire, Be­rontus with Ambrisia, Cleander with his mother in law Otranta, and the valiant Lisander with the in­comparable Calista.

WEe left our lovers joyfully met, to all their great contentments; where long they could not possesse their Mistresses presence: for Fortune, an irreconcileable enemy, and a continuall torment unto vertue, would ne­ver have beleeved that they had sufficiently suffered, if that they had continued in this contentment. The day of their arrivall being expired, and every one of them b [...]ing retired with the pleasure of so favourable a successe, they rose the next morning to goe to Masse, about eleven of the clocke: Cleander ledde his mother in law, Lisander ledde Calista, Berontus Ambrisia, the two contracted either of them their betroathed, and Leon led Clarinda; who seeing her selfe supported by Berontus (although hee were ignorant of her wicked life) and placed againe with her Mistresse, abused her patience, and beleeved that in marrying Leon, which she hoped to doe, she should not need to care for her. The Masse was almost finished, when a Gentlewoman comming be­hinde Lisander, gently pulled him by the cloake, and seeing him turne towards her, she intreated him to please to heare a word which shee had to speake in private. Jesus, Gentle­woman (said Lisander) command me what you please, and [Page 94] where you please. In this little Chappell upon the right hand, replied she, where I will attend you. Saying this she departed, and Lisander letting her goe a little way before, went into the Chappel by another way, because he would not be observed; discoursing with himselfe as he went, what businesse the La­dy might have with him, hoped of some good fortune. Be­ing come into the Chappell, where they were all alone (but for a Lacquey who waited upon the Gentlewoman) shee gave him a love letter, which shee entreated him to read and answer. Lisander opens it, and findes it said thus.

Lisander receiving this Letter contrary to his expectati­on, was sorry to see this new occasion which Fortune did prepare to separate him from his love, and desiring to avoid it, said to the disguised Page, that if the Lacquey did follow him to his lodging, he should have an answer; which being yeelded to by the Page, Lisander returned with all the com­pany [Page 95] into Cleanders house, where retiring himselfe into his chamber while dinner was getting ready, he answered Clori­dons challenge in this manner.

Lisander having closed this Letter, went himselfe downe unto the street doore, where having found the Lackey, who stayed for him, hee said, Hold friend, tell thy Master I will wait all day to morrow to heare newes from him; so tur­ning [Page 96] into the hall where dinner was ready, hee sate downe with the rest of the company. All that day, and the next night he was in a deep meditation of what should become of him after the combat, if God were so mercifull unto him that he were the last alive; knowing well, that in respect of Cloridons favour with the King, hee could have no sure aboad in France. The next day hee stayed in his chamber all the mor­ning, expecting every houre when he should be challenged, and therefore caused a man to stand at the street doore, to bring him who should be sent (without any further enqui­ry) directly unto him. But when he saw noone past, and af­ter the whole day without hearing a word, hee did thinke that Cloridon was satisfied with his reasons, or was contented in himselfe that hee had witnessed his courage in challeng­ing. That night there was a Cooke, who, amongst other meane wherewith they were plentifully served, drest some rost-meate made with the marrow of Beefe; and in stead of chopping of Parsley, which was usuall, he put in Hemlocke, which was likely to kill all the company, and especially Li­sander, who having had a most sicke night, was constrained to be let blood, and take physicke the next morning. Hardly had he swallowed it, when one came to tell him that a Gen­tleman at the doore desired to speake with him. Presently he imagined that he came from Cloridon: and although hee did not then looke for him, and that things which come be­yond our expectation doe most n [...]ly and most lively pierce our mindes when they happen, yet without any alteration he commanded he should be let in. The other (who was a brave Knight called Chrysantes) as soone as hee came into the chamber, seeing the Surgeons sawcers full of blood upon the table, and the glasses wherein the Physicke was, empty, was about to returne backe without a word; yet hearing Lisan­der aske who was there, hee entred in: and being set downe close by the bedde, every one being commanded away, hee said thus; I came hither, Sir, to have spoken with you about a businesse, but now I see the state wherein you are, will not permit you to heare of it, wherfore if it please you, I will hold other discourse, expecting a time when the disposition of [Page 97] your health may better fit both you and mee for the uttering thereof. Pardon mee, said Lisander, my sickenesse is not so great, that it can let me from hearing, and lesse from giving you satisfaction; I pray therefore forbeare not to deliver your message, for I know already the contents thereof, and if you had come yesterday, as I did expect, it had beene by this time dispatcht. Sir, answered Chrisantes, I could not come yester­day, and I beleeve you cannot goe this day, whither I would have you, without endangering your health: for by the to­kens which I see upon the table, you have beene let blood, and taken Physicke this morning. It is true (replied Lisan­der) but he who by the consideration of the danger of his life cannot be retained, will not refraine in consideration of his health, which is lesse. You have reason, said Chrisantes, be­cause sometimes one may lose his health without losing his life, but never his life without his health: yet because in this businesse, the conservation and losse of one dependeth upon another, I would perswade you to stay untill you are in bet­ter health. Sir, answered Lisander, you cannot be my enemy and counseller in one and the same businesse: I know you come from Cloridon, and the notice hee gave mee two dayes since of his designe, may make him thinke that my indispo­sition is rather fained than true; therefore to make him lose this thought, or to keepe him from having it, tell mee where he is, and I will goe to content him with my arme in a skarfe, and my physicke in my belly: for seeing he will not receive the satisfaction which I would have given him, he shall ne­ver have it now. Seeing you are so resolved, replied Chrisan­tes, I will onely entreat you to take a friend with you, who may witnesse with me your endevour in this action. I have no friend, answered Lisander, having too many; for there are many in this house, who will not yeeld that point one unto the other: so that in stead of a particular combate, we should fight a battell, and put you to trouble in finding friends to oppose them. But to satisfie your desire which you have, not to be idle, I promise you, that if Cloridon leave me with life, I will give you some exercise. Let us goe then Sir, said Chri­santes, and not suffer him to wait any longer: for hee hath [Page 98] stayed a great while in his shirt. Lisander presently rose, and his faithfull footman, who onely stayed in his chamber (no body doubting of a quarrell) having made ready a Courser, which Cleander had sent him out of Naples; hee went out of the house with Chrisantes (accompanied onely with his foot­man) to finde Cloridon, who stayed without S. Honorius gate, in a wide field, which is betweene Roul and Mountma [...]tre. Chrisantes seeing him, said unto Lisander, Sir, yonder is my friend, if you please I will goe speak with him one word, yet if you thinke not fit, I will presently leave you together, untill a better or worse destiny part you. Doe what you please, re­plyed Lisander, but dispatch: Hee then set forward towards Cloridon, who came towards him; and seeing Lisander have one arme in a skarfe, hee asked the cause. Chrisantes in few words told him what had past, and so retired two or three hundred paces on the one side. Cloridon then gallopping to­wards Lisander, who made towards him (wearied with so long stay) spake unto him in this manner: Knight, so farre as I can perceive, your indisposition makes me dispence with you for fighting: wee will therefore, if you please, deferre it untill your health will better permit it, for this present estate of yours, can neither be commodious for you, nor honoura­ble for me. No, no, answered Lisander, two men of our qua­lity and making, cannot returne out of this medow without fighting: Resolve therefore to overcome or dye, seeing you will not live in friendshippe with him who hath sought it at your hands. Go too then, said Cloridon, let us prove whether you have done well or no in despising a courtesie from one, who did thinke to have obliged you thereby. I will neither aske it, nor affoord it to you, answered Lisander, and there­with furiously spurred one upon another. Lisander, who (as we have said) ridde upon a lusty and strong courser, but such a one, as in regard of his long resting idle in the stable, was not so steddy a runner as Cloridons (which was one of the bravest and readiest horses that ever came out of Ando­lusia) spurred lively upon his enemy, intending as he did strike with his sword, to shocke also with his horse; but Clo­ridon fearing the shock, & desirous to get the crupper of his e­nemies [Page 99] horse, turned his owne speedily to shun the shock of Lisanders, unto which hee gave so great a reverse blow upon the nose, that he cut him into the mouth; but he stayed not his course, were it that the horse being chaft, felt not the paine of the blow, or that being in his course hee could not suddenly stay himselfe: so that Cloridons little horse could not turne so nimbly, but that Lisander joyning unto him with an incredible speed, thrust his sword cleane through him from side to side, wherwith Cloridon fell down dead to the ground in the sight of Chrisantes, who was a spectator of this pitifull tragedy▪ He seeing his friend upon the earth, turned his horse towards Lisander, who in this instant was troubled as well with his horse, the wound which he had received making him bound up and down, and run in the field, without being able to stay him, as also by his being let blood, and the paine of his Physick; so that in one instant of time, he was to resist the gripings of his physick, the bounding of his horse, and the fury of his adversary: who taking Lisander in this disorder, and having more respect to revenge the death of his friend, than to the disadvantage of his adversary, after he had cryed unto him two or three times, Turne, Lisander, turne, or I will strike thee, thrust the point of his sword so farre into his backe, that he did thinke he had revenged Cloridon. Heaven neverthelesse kept it from being mortall, thereby reserving Lisander unto other adventures, who, moved with the smart of the wound, with great violence turned his horse almost upright upon his hinder feete, and with a reverse blow met with Chrisantes his arme so strongly, that he cut it clean off a­bove the elbow, it falling downe unto the ground with the sword; and Lisanders, with the strength of the blow, & with the resistance which hee met with, was broke in the handle Chrisantes thus without a sword, and without an arme, was carried away by his horse crosse the fields, so long, that grow­ing feeble by the losse of his blood, he fell downe, and after­vvards died, as you shall heare. But Lisander, having dispat­ched both his enemies (although vvounded in his [...], blee­ding by his arme through the opening of the veine, and his sword broken in the handle) as vvell as hee could accomo­dated [Page 100] himselfe with Cloridons sword and horse, which had not his fellow in the world, when hee perceived both his adversaries footmen upon his man: wherefore with speed hee spurred unto them, and came timely enough to save his life (who was wounded) by the losse of theirs; their obsti­nacy to defend themselves, and the fury wherein he was (be­ing wounded himselfe, and his footman all boody) surmoun­ting the sweetnesse of his disposition. After this execution, Lisander would have taken againe his owne horse, but hee would not suffer him to come neare him; and as he rode up­on Cloridons after him, hee espied Chrisantes his horse, which he took with small labour; upon which setting his footman, hee retired himselfe unto the Capuchins, unto Clarangeus his chamber, no lesse pained with his physicke than his wound, nor lesse glad for the victory, than sorry that he had bought it with so much blood, and fouled it with so many mur­thers.

Leon in the meane time, having seene Lisander goe from Cleanders house with Chrisantes, whom he knew to be one of Cloridons friends, advertised Berontus ▪ they doubting of the quarrell, went out after them, but dividedly, the better to finde them; in which having spent long time in vaine (and the longer because, the combat being short, Lisander had reti­red himselfe before they came) they came in the end, the one to the place where the miserable Chrisantes was ready to give up the Ghost, and the other where poore Cloridon, and the two Lackeies lay dead. Leon, who first found Cloridon, tooke up the sword which Lisander had left, with the horse which ran about the fields, and hiding the sword, shewed only the horse to Berontus, whom hee found talking with Chrisantes; of whom they two demanded the cause of this misfortune: he told the combate that first Cloridon, and then he had with Li­sander, as you have heard, exalting even in the pangs of death the free courage and valour of him, who had handled them so ill▪ and contrarily blamed Cloridons passion, which had ingaged him rashly in so unjust a quarrell. Berontus would have given him his hand to lift him up, but Chrisantes wring­ing him with his lefthand which was left him, spake these [Page 101] words, Berontus, there is nothing so unjust as the Devill, nor any thing just but God; keep thy selfe from the one, and pray unto the other for my soule, for my body is no longer to bee reckoned of: and with this last word he gave up the Ghost, leaving Berontus & Leon no lesse astonished at his death, than at Cloridons, and at Lisanders powerfull Genius, which brought him so happily victorious over all his adventures. God was pleased to prolong Chrisantes life, that Berontus and Leon might finde him before his death, and might from his owne mouth know the history of this combate, that Lisanders ver­tue might be witnessed by those, who were most envious of it. Leon ledde Berontus unto the place where Cloridon and the Lackeyes, of whom we have spoken, lay, which augmented Berontus his astonishment, who, without learning any newes of Lisander, returned into the Towne with Leon, where the report of this combate was presently spread: As the humours and affections of men were divers, so also their discourses and judgements were different; Lisanders friends, who had heard so many proofes of his valour, did not won­der to see a new example, and did easily beleeve the truth, which sounded from the mouths of Berontus and Leon, his enemies: But Cloridons and Chrisantes their friends could not imagine that one man could so soone have killed them with their Lackeyes; and the King himselfe, who dearely loved Cloridon, and esteemed him for a valiant man (as certainely he was) could not beleeve that Lisander had killed them with­out some disadvantage, perswading himselfe, that in respect Cloridons friends had formerly done the like unto him, now hee had not made difficulty to render the like againe. How­soever it was, he was so angry, that he commanded diligent search to be made for Lisander, neither would hee heare Cle­ander, nor any other who spake in his behalfe, who all this while was at the Capuchins in Clarangeus his chamber, where a religious man healed in a small time, as well him as his footman, without applying any thing unto his wounds but wine and oyle. It is not to bee asked i [...] Cleander, Lidian, and Calista were grieved for Lisander, of whom Clarangeus went (yet secretly) and carried them newes, intreating them [Page 102] not to see him, lest by their visiting he might be discovered: neither is it to be demanded whether they had more joy to see him out of danger of his wound, or feare to see him in the Kings anger, or sorrow that they were deprived of his sight. Ten dayes after, Lisander finding himselfe able to travell, de­termined to leave Paris; which hee presently made knowne unto Cleander, who resolved to have him unto Beauplaine, it being then Autumne, when all the World is invited to the fields to taste the fruits: Not that hee thought to keepe him long there, for it was too neere the Court, but untill they had conferred of the meanes which was to bee holden in his af­faires; wherefore earely in a morning sending away Calista, Otranta, Ambrisia, Olinda, and Argire before with Berontus, he followed after in the evening, with Lidian, Alcidon, and Li­sander, whom hee went to receive at the Gate of the Capu­chins, where Clarangeus made him a christian remonstrance, remembring unto him the graces which God had bestowed upon him, and the punishment which he did incurre by neg­lecting them: for there is no doubt, said he, but as God in this life cannot give us any thing more excellent than his grace, so we cannot offend him more than in abusing it. Af­ter bidding him adieu, and unto the whole company, who also tooke their leaves of him, recommending themselves unto the prayers, as well of him as of the other religious men; they departed in the night, and came unto Be [...]plaine when it was day light, where having rested themselves, they rose to dine with the Ladies: There began new welcomming un­to Lisander; there began also his love unto Calista, and with the pleasure which hee received in her company; an extreme sorrow that he must part from he [...]: [...]or he truely considered that there was no long abiding, and first entred into the dis­course of his departure, as well to avoid the danger which threatned him, as because hee would not inwrap friends in his evill fortune, and make them fall into the Kings displea­sure. Cleander thought it fit that hee should re [...]te into Flan­ders untill the Kings anger was over; which was presently resolved, and thereupon all this faire company brake up, for his sister went into Burgundy with Berontus, Otranta retur­ned [Page 103] into Normandy, whither she was conducted by Lidian, and accompanied by Argire and Alcidon unto Paris.

Behold, how unto this short pleasure succeeded long sor­row, teares, and farewels; a pitifull departure: the griefe and words, which were conceived and uttered betwene persons so neare of blood, and so knit in affection, goe beyond all ex­pressing. Cleander remained at Beauplaine with Calista, in so great solitarinesse, that it seemed to presage the mischiefe which happened. Now must I foule my Story with the mis­chievous and lewdest accident that ever befell, and I doe ab­horre to write this bloody and sad discourse; but it is not to bee omitted. Leon (when Cleander withdrew himselfe unto Beauplaine) remained at Paris, were it that he had particular businesse which held him there, or that they did not so much rely upon him as upon the others, he was not intreated to go with them thither: And Clarinda, who could not live with­out him, seeing this cōpany scattered, unwilling to lose so fair an occasion of seeing him, determined to use the same means w^ch her Mistres formerly did to see Lisander: but there hap­ned first a Prodigie, which cannot be told without wonder. Cleander, being in this evill humour through the losse of so good company, was visited by a Kinsman of his named Ve­rasco, who sometimes had been his Tutour, unto whom hee being willing to give all the pleasure hee could, and thereby endevour to divert himselfe from this melancholy which did consume him, hee made a match to goe hunt the wilde Boare; unto which sport (besides the domesticks) he sent for some of his Tenants, who were better acquainted with the waies and layers of the beasts, commanding them to call him earely in the morning, and beare him company. In this deter­mination having supt very earely with Verasco, and left him in his chamber, hee himselfe went to bedde: it was not day by a great while, when hee heard knocking at the gate of the Castle, which awaked him: and remembring what he had commanded his huntsmen over night, he thought they were come to call him unto his sport; wherefore he called up him who waited in his chamber, commanding to go let them in, while hee made himselfe ready: The Gentleman went, and [Page 104] opening the gates, found no body; therefore s [...]eing it was not neere day, he went to bedde againe, thinking his Master [...]ad dreamed that he heard. Hee was no sooner laid, when they heard againe great knocking at the gate, by the hammer thereof. Cleander, who upon the answer which was made, that it was not yet day, thought his people were gone backe againe, hearing new, and more violent knocking, thought that day did now appeare, and that they were returned, cau­sed his servant to rise the second time, and goe unto the gate, who finding nobody there, went to lye downe againe. Mor­ning began to shew the brightnesse of her beames above the Horizon, when Cleander hearing one knocke the third time, rose himselfe out of his bedde, and putting on his night-gowne, without calling any of his servants, went himselfe unto the doore, where hee found his Hoste, whom hee had caused to be buried in Italy, who said unto him these sadde words: Good morrow Sir, I come to acquit my promise, that you may the better discharge your duety to your soule: thinke upon death, for within three dayes you shall suffer it. This shape vanishing after these words, left Cleander in that feare which may be imagined; so that lying downe by Ca­lista, he told her the fearfull vision which he had seene. Calista ready to swoune at this discourse, yet so well as shee could hid her astonishment from Cleander, for feare she should adde unto his feare, and like a woman of great spirit and courage, comforted him as well as she could, telling him that he ought not to tye his beleefe unto these fantastick illusions, although it were well done alwayes to prepare himselfe to the losse of this life, that death might not surprize him; and rising both up, they went to prayers. Verasco also rose shortly after, from whom Cleander would not hide what hee had told unto Ca­lista, whereupon as well by the counsaile of the one, as by the prayers of the other, he altered his determination of hunting, and sent for a Priest to reconcile himselfe unto God, waiting with a quiet minde what it should please God to send. These three dangerous daies, wherein hee had beene threatned, were spent in prayers, fastings, watchings, and christian me­ditations. Cleander feeling no indisposition of body, where­by [Page 105] he might apprehend a naturall death, neither did hee su­spect any enemy, from whence he should feare a violent one; so that the night of the third day being come, seemed to as­sure Cleanders life, and to convince his Hoste of a lye: then did he accuse himselfe of weakenesse, and blamed his over­much credulity, which had over lightly given such an ala­rum upon the uncertaine report of a shadow, being ashamed that Verasco and Calista should bee witnesses of the feare which hee had: and Calista gave thankes unto God, for ma­king vaine so evill a presage, when the cursed Clarinda having brought Leon into the house by the garden gate, whereof we have formerly spoken, and having made him enter into Cali­sta's chamber, thinking that she would lye with Cleander, as she had done since this last voyage.

It chanced for all their mischiefes, that Calista, wearied with her passed watchings, and sick with the affliction of her precedent feare, whereof she thought her selfe now free, see­ing the three dayes expired wherein her husbands life was threatned (after she had born him company untill midnight, together with Verasco) would go unto her owne chamber, to sleepe alone, and with more quiet. Clarinda who had car­ried her night-cloaths into Cleanders chamber, hearing her say so, carried them presently backe into her Mistresses, from whence shee made Leon presently depart, that he might not be surprized: But he could not goe downe the staires, because Verasco withdrawing himself into a chamber upon the side of Cleanders, Calista going with him, they stayed themselves betweene the two doores; both which opened upon the staires, with so much light of divers candles, that hee could hardly hide himselfe there where he was, neither durst he go higher for feare of making a noise: and being desirous to e­scape at any hand, hee no sooner heard her bid Verasco good night, but he came down against the light which was going up into Calista's chamber with her selfe. The Page who car­ried the candle, frighted to see this man come hastily downe the staires, unknown unto him, with his sword in his hand, and shee also cryed out: Cleander, who was at his chamber doore, going in, hearing his wife cry, came suddenly out, and [Page 106] was just in Leons way, having nothing about him but his night Gowne; yet he stept unto him and stayed him, and so tooke hold of his sword, that both the one and the other had stayed, if Leon finding himselfe taken, and not being able o­therwise to get away, had not stabbed him with his dagger, which made him let goe his hold. This wretch Leon having deadly wounded him, and by this meanes got cleare of him, was yet happy in this, that he escaped by the way which hee entred, & saved himself, without being followed or known, because that every body ran presently to Cleander, and the re­medy which they did endevour to bring for his life, saved his murderer, together that this accident did so surprize them, that hee was sooner gotten from Beauplaine, than it could be imagined that hee was entred. Cleander being carried to his bedde by Verascus, and his servants which were run thither at the noise, together with discomfited Calista, who grew desperate at this mischance, having alwaies the sword which hee had taken from this cursed hand which hurt him; look­ing earnestly upon it, knew that it was his friend Lisanders, (you have heard how Leon found it, and having amended it in the same hilts wherein it was before, wore it in Lisan­ders absence.) Cleander judging himself dead, without know­ing by whom, or how, not being able to comprehend that it was Lisander, & not knowing how his sword should come into any other mans hand, was no lesse astonished to see it, than at his owne death: In the end, finding that hee fainted, & having a greater feeling of Calista's sorrow than his own, hee tooke her hand, which he wrung, and looking upon her with a firme countenance, in comforting used these words, Calista, I suffered your teares these three last daies, in which wee both feared what is now happened, beleeving that they might have prevented this stroake, and beene of use to pro­long the time which I had to remaine with you; but now being unprofitable, I cannot suffer you vainely to afflict your selfe for mee, who finde no other evill in death, but my lea­ving you: for beleeve, the separation between my soule and body troubleth mee but little, in comparison of that from you. But knowing that I cannot possesse you, but upon con­dition [Page 107] of parting from you, that our life is so knit unto death, that wee cannot enjoy one without the other. I infinitely comfort and rejoice my selfe, that God doth now grant (which I have ever begged of him) that I might not live to see thee dye. To this favour he hath added so many more, that I should dye in unexcusable ingratitude, if I did not acknow­ledge how uncapable I am worthily to acknowledge them: but there is no blessing which I have received, wherein I ac­count my self more happy, or more satisfied, than in the sweet life we have led together, which I may well call a marriage without thornes. I conjure you Calista, by the desire which you ought to have to sweeten the anguish and paine of my death, not to encrease it by your griefe; but conforme your self to Gods will, who hath done me this favour, to advertise me of the time, that I might have leisure to prepare my selfe: In time you shall know from whence this stroake came, for Gods justice will never leave it unpunished before men; yet take special care that this sword do not deceive you, for I had rather dye twice more than enter into any distrust of the true Master thereof, whom I do entreat you to love above all per­sons next me, as I did love him next unto you above all things in the world: but good God, said he, how is it possible that it should come into the hands of this murderer? with these last words he fainted, and calling upon the name of Jesus, he died even upon the breake of day, at the same houre where­in the Spirit appeared, with that discomfort unto Calista, and such astonishment unto Verasco, and all the servants, that no humane discourse is able to expresse it. Cleander thus dead, and Calista extremely sicke, and overwhelmed with insup­portable griefe, Verasco, who was a grave wise man, not being able to call again his life, resolved to revenge his death, and to find the spring from whence it came. The dead man had no neerer kinsman than Berontus, who was then absent; wherefore Verasco was obliged to procure justice upon the crime: first hee began to informe himselfe which way this man came into Beauplaine, and hee found that it was by the garden gate, whereof wee have spoken, which of necessity [Page 108] must some of the house open; for since the alarum, when Cleander tooke Lisanders comming in the night for theeves, hee had beene carefull to keepe it shut: this evening it had so rained, that the prints or markes of shooes did plainly ap­peare in the alleyes, where was manifestly seene that there were two prints of different bignesse, from whence hee col­lected that one had opened the gate for the other. Verasco perceiving this, caused all the servants of the house to come into that alley, whose feet hee measuring with the prints which were made in the sand, there was none found any way agreeing, but onely Clarinda's, whose shooe did perfect­ly fit the lesser print, which served as a great proofe, at the least for a violent suspicion against her; who (otherwise ac­cused and convinced by her owne conscience) did not deny the fact: But alas, it had beene much better that she had dis­avowed this truth, than to have added so execrable and no­torious a lye; For it is very true (shee said) it was I who ope­ned the gate, notwithstanding it was by my Mistresses com­mand.

Verasco not willing to proceed further in examination of a cause so criminall, made Clarinda fast, and sent for the Ju­stice, strictly forbidding every body to speake of it unto Calista, who was so plunged in sorrow, and drowned in griefe, that her sickenesse moved no lesse pity than Cleanders death. The Judges, who for the most part are like Surgeons, seeking for nothing more than for wounds and swellings, quickly came unto the place, visited the body, and exami­ned Clarinda, who persevering in what shee had formerly said, added, that Lisander was the man who had killed her Master, as might easily bee seene by the sword which hee had left; that she had let him into the house by Calista's com­mand, as formerly shee had done, although to her extreme sorrow, which she no longer able to beare, had discovered to Berontus, whom she called to witnesse these words. Cali­sta being upon this accusation heard, for the fulnesse of her misfortune, saw her selfe accused of her husbands death, by her who was the cause thereof, and for her last calamitie [Page 109] (that shee might the more lightly passe this troublesome passage) was carried unto prison in the little Castle in this proud City of Paris, where in former times shee had beene often seene in so much pomp and glory.

CALISTA being thus in prison, the very centre of misery, and a sepulchre unto those who live therein, must not be for­gotten, nor suffered to lye long there: yet her comming forth cannot bee so soone, for innocency doth not easily appeare in darke dungeons, neither is the getting out of prison so easie as the entrance therein­to: Clarinda was also placed in another chamber, and in her stead there was a strange woman appointed to waite upon Calista, whom she had never before seene, in appearance to serve her, but in truth to observe her words, and espy her a­ctions. As for Verascus, hee remained at Beauplaine, unto which place having sent for Berontus, and there celebrated Cleanders funerall, and setled his houshold, he afterward went unto Paris to become Calista's adversary, who being brought into this pitifull estate, began first to teare her haire, and to doe mischiefe against her selfe; after having remained in silence a long time, without speaking one word, as one whose griefe tooke away her sense, at the length her present mischiefe bringing unto her minde her former fortune, brought teares into her eies, and these words into her mouth, [Page 112] stirring pity in that place, where it never had beene: O Cali­sta, where art thou! what are become of all thy pleasant dayes? unto what is all thy glory and vanity reduced? O Cleander, my onely joy and comfort, was it not affliction e­nough to lose thee, without being accused for thy losse? Ah Lisander, the services which you have done mee heretofore are now dearly sold unto me, and I pay those honest acknow­ledgements of your love, with a high price. O Lisander, why doest not thou know of my imprisonment? And you my Judges, why doe you not know mine innocency? And thou Clarinda, why dost thou accuse mee? In the middest of these complaints (much more grievous than I can expresse) no­thing comforted her but the hope of death, which was pre­paring for her; which shee would have much more desired than her liberty, if she could have received it without incur­ring infamy for the crime whereof she was accused: But not to be long upon so grievous a subject, I will briefly say, that Berontus being come from Burgundy, and (being no lesse a­stonished than sorry for those accidents since his departure) was heard by the Provost, and confronted with Clarinda, un­to whose former speeches, his being conformable, it seemed that Calista was sufficiently attainted and convicted of her husbands death, so that her processe was (in the worlds opi­nion) judged both to the losse of her life and honour. I must not forget the griefe which this misfortune brought unto O­linda, Alcidon, & Argire, who were then at Paris; the sorrow which Ambrisia had, who was in Burgundy, and that which was suffered by Lidian and his Parents in Normandy, when they knew of it. Argire and Olinda imployed all their friends to speake with Calista, but were not able to obtaine it. All the world wondred that Lisander had so fouled the glory of so many brave deeds, by so dishonourable an act. There was none but Cloridons friends, who (beleeving that hee was co­wardly murdered) rejoiced that hee had committed this last base act, as a proofe of the former. Lisander was then at Bru­sels, farre from thinking upon such an act, where a faithfull Poste, whom Alcidon had sent, let him understand the newes of this deplorable disaster. When he heard of Cleanders death, [Page 113] he uttered great sorrow, as for a person whom next unto Ca­lista, he truely loved above all creatures; but when he knew that the common beliefe was that he had killed him with his wifes privity, who was for that cause a prisoner, and upon the point of her punishment, he was strooke with silence, the newes taking from him both his feeling, and all his senses, like a great stroake which is not felt at the instant, but some time after it is received. When he had gathered his spi­rits unto him, which were wandred away with the violence of the first motion, and that griefe had given place unto his words; O God, what did he not say! his griefe cannot be re­presented, but by that of Calista; for never two soules were so equally wounded with one stroak, and their wounds un­like unto all others, had nothing to paralell either the others, but themselves: yet being a man, and having his liberty, he did resolve to lose it together with his life, or else to assure Calista's. Now if hee durst appeare, he had done his Lady a great service, for his flight was one maine argument against her, and his presence would have much served for their justi­fication. But Cloridons murder being fresh, and his blood al­most warme, representing it selfe every day to the Kings me­mory, who would never grant him his pardon, he thought that his presence, in stead of satisfying things, would exaspe­rate them, and that unprofitably he should carry his head to bee lost at Paris, without saving Calista's: but what cannot love doe in a gentle heart? hee resolved to goe thither, and so taking Post with the same Messenger, which was sent un­to him, he came in the night unto Alcidons, trusting both his honour and life into his hands, although being of Cleanders friends, he had cause to have feared (if he had beene guilty.) Having conferred with Alcidon, Argire, and Olinda, whom he also saw, and having told them how he left his sword in the field, and tooke Cloridons which hee still wore, they all rejoi­ced at the appearance of his innocency: Hee asked them, if they had not seen Calista in prison, and they telling him, how farre they had endevoured, and how little they had effected; he said, he had thought to intreat Clarangeus ▪ to goe thither, who through the reverence of his habit, might have the more [Page 114] easie entrance undercolour that hee came to confesse her, be­ing so neere her sentence: But this could not bee, for some three or foure dayes before this unfortunate accident, Claran­geus was gone towards Rome, and had taken his leave of Al­cidon the morrow after his comming from Beauplaine. As they were upon these termes, one came to tell Alcidon, that Berontus was at the gate, who had not seene Alcidon since his comming from Burgundy, which was some two dayes be­fore, & that time he had spent in visiting Verasco, the Judges, and Clarinda, whom he did confront. Alcidon was not of o­pinion that he should see Lisander; wherefore leaving him in the chamber with Olinda, he with Argire ledde Berontus into another: They found him much afflicted, as he who did not alone bewaile Cleanders misfortune, but Calista's and Lisan­ders also, for Ambrisia's sake; so that their first embracing was mingled with teares, which being over, Berontus could not forbeare, saying, Well Sir, would you ever have thought that so brave a Knight as Lisander, and so honest a Lady as Calista, should have agreed together in committing so base a wic­kednesse, the one against his friend, the other against her hus­band? No truely Sir, answered Alcidon, and doe no lesse be­leeve it than ever I did, although I know the world is posses­sed with this opinion. Oh (replied Berontus) I would to God it were false, upon condition it had cost mee some of my best blood; but alas it is too true. Sir, said Alcidon, condemne not those which are absent without hearing them: it may bee they have reasons which you know not: and although I doe not know them, yet the experience which I have of Lisan­ders vertues, is sufficient unto mee to repell the beleefe of a thing, so farre from the noblenesse of his former actions. Sir, answered Berontus, this very knowledge hath also stayed my judgement: But let me say to you, it is sixe months since Clarinda told me the very same things which shee now spea­keth, and it is more than a yeere since Calista and I, walking in the woods at Beauplaine, heard the loving complaints which he made for her sake. And as for my brothers death, would you have a clearer proofe than his sword? For the rest (said Alcidon) it [...] for him to answer▪ and I beleeve, were it [Page 115] not for Cloridons death, whereof you well know the impor­tance, hee would not faile to be here to acquit himselfe: but whereas you alledge the sword for so sure a proofe of his kil­ling Cleander, I will say that Lisander by the reverse blow wherewith he cut off Chrisantes his arme, having broke it in the handle, left it in the field, together with his horse, and tooke Cloridons horse and his sword, which hee weares yet: From whence it necessarily followes, that it is some body else who hath found his sword, wherewith this unfortunate stroak is happened. No person, replied Berontus, knowes that better than I, for I went first after them into the field, accom­panied with Leon, who found his horse, but not his sword: Speake unto Leon, Sir (answered Alcidon) and know of him if hee saw it not, for the consequence is not small. Berontus upon those speeches retired himselfe, not knowing what to thinke of this sword, and lesse the next morning when hee could not heare of Leon, who was lost. Alcidon returning un­to Lisander, told him what had passed between him and Be­rontus; but when hee touched the complaints which Beron­tus had heard in the wood at Beauplaine, Lisander changing colour, and not willing to deny a thing so true, It is true, said he, that I loved Calista before Cleander knew her, and not be­ing able to resist the powerfull charmes of her beauty, nor the amorous shafts shot from her eyes at me, without her will; and knowing her to be as vertuous as faire, I did bewaile my selfe in the midst of the wood, for that which I never durst declare unto her, beleeving that I had spoken only unto trees, and not unto her, or unto Berontus: but let him remember, seeing that he was there, that I blamed my passion for the in­jury it did unto Cleander, as well as for that which it did unto my selfe, and that I did not forbeare to preferre his friendship before my own love, although it were after in time: It is also true, that I saw her one time, as Clarinda hath said, but if Cle­anders honour did then receive any offence, I desire that nei­ther Gods justice, nor mans may pardon mee; and lesse his death, if I had so much as a thought thereof: And how is it possible, that I should thinke so basely to compasse his death whom I had (pardon what I say) so bravely saved? They say­ing [Page 116] many other things which would be too long to recount, went to supper, and from thence to bed, waiting the dayes comming, when they first resolved that Lisander should send for his sister into Burgundy, for to mediate some agreement with Berontus, over whom shee had a great command; and that Olinda should write unto Lidian, who might openly de­fend the innocency of his sister and Lisander, in requitall of so many obligations wherein he and his father Dorilas were ty­ed unto him: and that in the meane time the best should bee done to suspend Calista's judgement. All these remedies did not cover the moytie of the evill, besides, they were farre re­mote, and the evill hard by, neither would they serve unto a­ny purpose: But Lisander looking neerer, as he who had grea­test interest, after a thousand thoughts tost up and down in his heart, which kept him waking all night, resolved to pro­vide by another meanes; and to that purpose rising the next morning before there was any store of people stirring in the streets, he went (not awaking Alcidon) unto the gate of the little Castle, which hee found shut: betweene the Castle and the little bridge there is a street, where dwell none but But­chers, and whither none doe goe but such as will buy meat, because there is no way out at the end thereof. Lisander ha­ving learned by Alcidon that Calista's chamber did looke into this street, entred thereinto, waiting the opening of a little wicket, and lifting up his head, hee perceived the iron grillis of one of the prison windowes just opposite unto a win­dow of a house, and so neere unto it, that there was nothing but the breadth of a narrow street which did separate them, although the grillis was a little higher: Lisander comming unto this house, found the Mistresse thereof at the doore, not yet ready, who wondred to see a man of that appearance in this street so earely. With her he stayed, and intreating her to hearken [...]nto one word which he would say for her profit, for a Preface unto his discourse, gave her a Purse with some [...]ore of Grownes in it, which did more captivate her good will, and raised more attention than all the eloquence in the world could have done▪ Afterwards he said, Madam, there is in this Prison a Lady, who is my Kinswoman, whose af­faires [Page 117] are solicited by no man but my selfe, and whereof I can neither give, nor receive from her any instruction: That which I desire of you, is nothing which can either hurt you or prejudice any person, for I doe not desire any other thing, but that you would for a day or two lend me the chamber in your house, which is over against the prison window, thereby onely to see if I can convey her a letter: and it is for this favour that I do entreat you to take the hundred crowns which are in the purse, assuring you (if it please God I justifie her innocency, which I hope to doe) shee and I will give you more. She, who was a woman, and more, of Paris, and beyond, of that common sort which will give themselves unto the Devill for money, hearing him speake of a hundred crownes in ready money, and a promise to have more for lending her chamber two dayes, in receiving the crownes, said unto him, Jesus Sir, this cost need not, the house is at your command, and I hope also you have not much failed, for this barred window▪ which you see a little higher than ours, is one of the best chambers in the Castle, and where they are accustomed to lodge their prisoners of the best quality, so that I am much deceived if this Lady whereof you spake, doth not lodge there: and with this gracious speech, she brought him into the chamber, which was a beastly one.

The husband, who saw a Courtier (as hee thought) goe so early into his house with his wife, being not used to such vi­sits, rudely asked of him what hee came for into his house. Man, said his wife, he is an honest Monsieur, who hath en­treated me to stay here onely one day. How? stay here? said hee, how long have you accustomed to lodge guests? Sir, sir, you may get you into some other place, it is time enough, for here is no lodging. To this Lisander answered nothing, let­ting the wife alone, whom hee had payed so well, that hee doubted not of her speaking for him: she drawing her hus­band aside, and shewing him the hundred crownes which shee had received in earnest for so short a hyring out of her chamber, made him more gentle than a glove; so that chan­ging both his countenance and voice, hee said unto Lisander, that he should dispose not alone of his chamber, but of all the [Page 118] house, and of himselfe, who was at his service, excusing his rudenesse upon two Gentlemen, who having taken their meate and lodging with him upon credite, had gone away without paying, which had put him into this humour: but God forbid (said he) that I should take you for such a kind of man; for upon the sight of your countenance, I would lend you all my wealth. Although Lisander was vexed, yet could he not forbeare laughing at this Butchers speech, who was a true Parisian: so thanking him for his honest courtesie, he in­treated him to lend him an inkehorne and paper, which was presently brought him, and having written a short letter, he tyed it, with pen and inkehorne of the least size he could get, to cast it into the window thorow the barres thereof, which being double, made the entrance very difficult. But because the letter should not fall into the street, and that he might pull it unto him untill it went in, hee tyed it with a thread of the length the street was broad, and somewhat more; and so flin­ging it, and drawing it againe, he continued it so long till hee flung it in. Calista was then upon her knees, at her prayers be­fore this window, and was not then risen▪ but when she saw this letter fall, she thought it fell from heaven, whose help she then emplo [...]ed: at the first shee could not imagine what the inkehorn and pen meant, untill opening the letter, she found this which followeth.

[Page 119] Calista knowing the letter both by the writing, and by the stile, felt strange motions in her soule; for although shee re­joiced to see that Lisander took her cause into his hands, ther­by hoping for a happy successe, according to that great for­tune which did accompany him in all his actions: yet re­membring the common opinion which was had of his kil­ling Cleander, shee had as willingly dye, as preserve her life by his meanes, who was accused of her husbands death, al­though hee were innocent: for she thought (as it was true) that the succours which she should receive from him, would bee a proofe of his love, and consequently confirme the opi­nion that he had murdered him; so that if shee had seene any other doore of safety open, she would never have passed that way: but necessity (which is a hard and intolerable mistress) constrained her to take that part, which she could not refuse without a most unevitable ruine, and thereby hazzard her reputation in appearance to assure it, together with her life in effect: wherfore after she had consulted some time with her selfe, having told the woman who waited upon her (whose good will and love shee had already gained; for Calista had such admirable graces, that she did easily take the most chur­lish hearts) that it was a kinsman of hers, who moved with pitty and compassion of her miserable fortune, endevoured to comfort her. She wrote backe.

The time which Calista spent in her answer, was by Lisan­der passed in such unquietnesse that he could not rest, his eyes being with much impatience, as it were fixed upon the win­dow to observe the comming of it through the bars thereof, untill in the end he saw it fall into the street: for Calista could not cast it into a window which she did not see. As soon as he saw it upon the ground, he speedily ran to take it up; but the chamber wherein he was being upon the highest floar of the house, he could not be there so soone, but that a Sergeant of the barre (which is hard by that place) who was there by chance) to buy some meat, had taken it up, and as hee began to read it, Lisander came, who snatching it out of his hands upon the difficulty which the other made to deliver it, hee gave him so great a b [...]te on the eare that he overthrew him, and beleeving that he had astonished him, he ran away un­der the Castle, towards our Ladies church, followed by all the Sergeants which were at the barre, and an infinite rabble, who cryed after him, Take him, take him, stop him, he hath killed a man; all the rascall people (who are as the Hang­mans hounds) rose upon Lisander in the most inhabited part of all Paris, so that he had no fewer behinde him than before him: being alone in the middle of them all environed with a great number, who eagerly pressing upon him, hee set his hand unto his sword, and having wounded two or three of the most importunate, so scattered the rest, that he had means to save himselfe among Coaches and Carts, wherewith this Bridge is alwaies plentifully furnished: having freed himself like [...]dion, he [...] [...]pt away like a Hare from corner to corner by the most unfrequented streets, untill hee had gotten into Alcidons house unmarked of any body, having (besides the [Page 121] danger of being taken) run a great hazzard of being known. There hee had first leisure to read the letter, which hee also shewed unto his friend, and told him all that had hapned. Alcidon, who had beene all the morning in a continuall ala­rum for his absence, greatly blamed his rashnesse, praising God that it had so happily succeeded: for without thrusting your selfe into this danger, said he, this which you have done might as well have been done by a third as by your selfe. By whom (answered Lisander)? there is no man in the world in whom I would rely, but in your selfe, and there is no lesse danger for you than for my selfe: for if it be known that you meddle either in Calista's businesse or mine, you lose Berontus his love (whereof we have now need) the Kings favour, and I my retiring place, together with the assistance of all my friends, who cannot openly helpe in a businesse so perillous. But how will you now doe to have newes from Calista (said Alcidon)? for to fight against the Serjeants at the barre again, is a manifest ruine, and belongs onely to a mad-man to be so desperate. I will tell you, said Lisander, a conceit which is come into my minde▪ I will apparell my selfe at night like a poore man, and I will so disguise my selfe that you shall hardly know me, so will I goe begging towards the Castle, where I will attempt two things; one is to write againe un­to Calista by the same meanes I did before, the other to speake with the Porter, to see if hee will deliver her unto mee, for though it cost mee all that I have in the world, I shall thinke my selfe both happy and rich, if I may see her at liberty. You must then (replied Alcidon) do two things more: The one, that I may follow you a great way off on horsebacke to pre­vent any mischiefe that might happen, if you were known, or if any accident should happen like this first: The other is, that you take money to give unto the Porter, for if you speak in any other language, hee will as little understand you, as if you spake Greeke, and if he can, will apprehend you. I have (answered Lisander) yet five hundred Crownes in gold left, wherewith I hope so to dazell his eyes, before I doe prepare him to [...]eare mee, that with a thousand more which I will promise him upon his delivery of Calista, I beleeve I shall [Page 122] shake his fidelity. There must yet another thing be done, said Alcidon, which is, that in writing to Calista, you advise her to sdipose the Gaoler who bringeth her meat, to hearken unto one who should speake with him from her, and that she pro­mise him, and give him what shee please; for it shall be per­formed: and she may much better negotiate this businesse in the chamber, than you in the open street, with the danger of your life, together also that she hath such meanes to practise the good will of men, that he must be a Devill if he can deny her. This resolution taken, they went to dinner with Argire and Olinda (who were there together) it being past one of the clocke, and yet had neither eat nor drunke.

It was a little before the feast of Christmas, after which time Calista's processe was to bee judged: neither was there any meanes to hinder her condemnation, according to her Councels opinion, but in justifying Lisander, who durst not present himselfe for the reasons abovesaid, so that every one did with severall passions expect this faire Ladies pub­licke execution, and shee her selfe was not ignorant thereof, being courageously resolved. All these things concurring in Lisanders memory, pressed him in such manner, that hardly had he patience to dine, much lesse to stay untill night for the executing of his designe; wherefore having put on the most tottered beggars weed that he could finde, and being so dis­guised that hee was unknowne unto his friends, before hee went out of the house, he wrote the letter which hee inten­ded to fling unto Calista; and accompanied with Alcidon and two stout footmen that followed afarre off, he went againe into that narrow street by the Castle, not without feare of some misadventure, as well in regard of what hapned in the morning, as because he was to enterprise without a sword, or any other armes, but onely a poniard which he had under his weeds: when he had past the Castle, leaving the barre of Sergeants on the left hand, he entred into the Butchers street upon the righthand, and Alcidon walking up and downe be­tweene the little bridge and S. James street; he went directly into the house▪ where he had formerly written unto Calist [...]. But this woman who had so courteously received him in the [Page 123] morning, seeing him enter by her stall, and taking him for a cut-purse, or rather for some poore man who would steale something out of the house, as hee looked more like such a one than as he was indeed, cryed aloud unto him, Friend, get you gone, you are a notable fellow to come into the house before you begge; you should have done very well to have made choice of another street to begge in, farther from the Castle, and not like a flye come to scorch your wings here: this is a house for such Pigeons as you are, and by Gods mer­cy if I cause you to be shut up there, you will not get out, but with a Flower-de-luce upon your shoulder. Madam (said Li­sander, who much doubted the scandall which might arise from this ignorance) I am come hither to doe you good, and not to begge or to take, onely take the paines to heare a word which I have to say unto you at this doore▪ O, answered she, behold the Gentleman with the little sword, who will doe us good; by S John I must call my husband to fly-flap you. But Madam (said Lisander, who was desperate, hearing this dis­course, not knowing how it might end) will you not make one step for your profit? She then beleeving hee was one of those who sould counterfeit chaines, & would deceive her, in shaking her head, said unto him, No friend, you mistake me, get you gone, or I will—But let us see, sure hee hath some chaine to sell: Saying this, shee came neere unto the doore, looking more upon Lisanders hands than upon his face, who then said unto her; Madam, I am the Gentleman who came this morning unto you, having thus disguised my selfe in re­gard of an accident which hapned at my going from hence: I pray say nothing, for you will get nothing by my hurt, and may hope for much profit by my prosperity, which consist­eth in comforting this poore prisoner. This woman hardly knowing him, said, Jesus Sir, and my good Master, who would have knowne you in these cloaths? how could you get away from their hands? how durst you come againe? enter quickly for feare you should be knowne, for I tremble still for love of you. He without more entreaty enters, and having cast his Letter through the barres into the window, [Page 124] he presently went into the streets, because he would be ready to take up his answer. The letter was in this manner.

Calista having received this second Letter, and upon Lisan­ders designe had already tasted the Porter, whom she found not altogether averse from her purpose, although she had of­fered nothing in particular, nor he promised any thing but in generall termes, only she had proceeded so far, that she might have some hope from his mercenary and barbarous minde, whom she had with gifts and faire words so softened, that contrary unto his cruell and stony disposition, he had witnes­sed a sorrow for her misfortune, and a desire to helpe her; which she presently writ unto Lisander, who with an incre­dible joy conceived some good hope of this enterprise: but as he retired himselfe with this Letter, alwayes accosted with Alcidon and his footmen, who never lost sight of him, being gotten from under the Castle, and in his opinion free from danger, he met a Marshall with many Archers, who appre­hended as prisoners all that were poore, and begged in the street, because it being (as we have said) a little before the [Page 125] feast of Christmas, in which beggars are very importunate, they were taken and shut up in a place, where they were clo­thed with the money which was put into the poore mens Boxe in Churches, and a straight command was given, that none should begge upon paine of whipping, and that none should give upon paine of Fines. These men meeting with Lisander at the end of our Ladies Bridge, and taking him not for such as he was, but for such as hee seemed to be, would have had him to prison; but he, who would not goe with them, so shooke off the Marshall and his Archers, that he made them leave him at liberty: hee being assisted by Alci­dons footmen, who came as if they would know what the matter was, and Alcidon himselfe riding among them with his horse to know the newes; so that Lisander (by whose apprehension the Marshals men thought nothing was to be gained) got unto his lodging without any further trouble, where having left his beggars weeds, and put him­selfe into his owne habite, hee shewed the last letter which Calista had flung out, and told not onely what had happened unto him with the Marshall; but also with the Butchers wife, which Alcidon knew not. It being now night, they went to supper with the faire Ladies (who did ordinarily beare them company) resolving after supper to goe on horse­backe about ten of the clocke to the Castle, so strong, that al­though the Porter should goe about to betray them, they would be able rather to revenge themselves upon him, than be taken. While they were talking with Olinda and Argire, (who continually prayed to God for the deliverance of their companion, beleeving that if she were once at liberty, and Lisander out of Cloridons businesse, both of them would easi­ly justifie themselves) Calista was with the Gaoler and his wife, who attended upon her, and having given them jewels which shee had about her, to the value of foure or five hun­dred Crownes, shee said unto them, that it was not for the service which she hoped to receive, that shee gave them this, but for that which they had already done; for if God be so mercifull unto me, said she, that I may verifie my innocency, it is the least good which you shall hope for from my libera­lity; [Page 126] but if it please God to dispose otherwise of me, this lit­tle at the least shall remaine with you, that you may pray for me, & cherish the memory of one, who is extremely grieved that she cannot binde you further. In saying this Calista wept, and by her words and teares raised such pity in their hearts, besides that which the present gifts (which as the Spanish proverb saith, breaketh downe rockes) and the hope to have more, wrought, that they themselves prevented the request which shee would have made unto them, and encouraged her to save her selfe, offering their persons▪ and their lives to serve her: the Porter offering further to deliver her, so that shee had any trusty friend who would convey her out of the City, after he had delivered her out of the prison. Calista, who saw she had touched them, and perceived plainly that it was not counted it to betray her, added unto her former stroaks, saying, My friends, although you should lose the miserable gaine, which you so wretchedly, and with so much pain get here, by setting me at liberty: yet you should have no cause to complaine, for, besides that which you may hope for & pro­mise yours selves from me, I have a friend who will give you this very night five hundred Crownes, if you will, & at your delivering me into his hands, will give you a thousand more: and be not affraid that hee will deceive you, for you shall re­ceive it all before you deliver me; but withall take heed you doe not deceive him, for if you should doe so, no place in the world would assure your lives: and you should bee most wicked (which I will never beleeve of you) if you should procure hurt unto them, who intend so much good unto you, for, by doing this good work, and binding so many per­sons as have interest in me, by this act, in one day without la­bour, or running any danger, you may raise a fortune worthy of your selves▪ and live honourably either with us, or else where you please, all the rest of your lives, without being constrained to practise this course of life, in my opinion too base for your hearts: With these words and many others, Ca­lista being assured of the Porter, and drawing from him the strongest oaths he could give, she shewed him Lisanders let­ter, whereupon it was concluded that he should goe out that [Page 127] night about ten of the clocke, to receive the five hundred Crownes, and agree upon a day for her deliverance.

As they had agreed, it was done; the Porter going about ten of the clock without the barre of the gate, saw two men, who walking up and downe on horseback, some twenty or thirty paces from the gate, one of them, who was Lisander, seeing him without the bar, left his companion (who was Al­cidon, with two footmen who followed him) and going un­to him, asked him if hee were not the man which carried meat unto the Lady who was prisoner there. Yes, Sir, an­swered he. Hath not she advertised you, replied Lisander, that I would be here at this time about her business? She hath told mee (answered the Porter) that a Gentleman would about this time come hither to speake with me, but I doe not know that it is you. Lisander hereby knowing that Calista had made the bargaine, said, hold friend, here is five hundred Crownes in gold in this purse, which I give for a token that it is I, and if thou canst deliver her to me to morrow, I will give thee a thousand more, which shee hath promised unto thee, before thou put her into my hands: But do not think to deceive me, for if thou doest, I vow to kill thee, though I fall into all the hangmens hands in France. Sir, said the Porter, (taking the Crownes) I will not deceive you, but I cannot promise to de­liver her before the feast of Kings. How (answered Lisan­der?) what if the processe should be judged between this and that? Sir, said the Porter, I will doe what I can to deliver her sooner; but to assure you that I can infallibly doe it before that time, I will not. Thou doest promise, said Lisander, to bring her then hither into this place in the night before that day at the furthest. Yes Sir, said the Porter, I do promise you to bring her hither about ten of the clock at night, upon pain of my life; and untill that time let mee heare no newes from you, nor expect any from mee, for feare we should be taken speaking together. Tell my Lady then (answered Lisander) what we have agreed upon, and so farewell. In saying this, hee turned towards Alcidon, and both together w [...] unto their lodging, where they told unto Olinda and Argire what [Page 128] they had done, who received an unspeakable contentment to see Calista's deliverance proceed so well, although the length of the time bred some griefe, & made them fear some crosse: But lest the processe in the mean time might be judg­ed, they concluded that Olinda, who was betrothed unto Li­dian, Calista's brother, and might openly declare her selfe for her sister in law, should goe and intreat the Reporter not to report her processe, untill the comming of her Parents, lest the innocency of this Lady might run some danger for want of a defence: forasmuch as she was so afflicted with her hus­bands death, and with seeing her selfe accused, that she wish­ed nothing more than to bee quickly out of this world, which was the cause (as indeed it was) that shee had not thought upon any justification, nor any person for her; but her friends being come, they might peradventure bring Li­sander, who being heard, would wonderfully cleer Calista's right. These words full of consideration and weight, with the credit and grace of the Speaker, had so much power over the Reporter, that hee promised to stay the comming of Ca­lista's friends, untill the feast of Kings were past, and rather go into the Countrey with the Processe, than be constrained to deliver it into the Court. Thus the feast passed happily a­mongst these foure persons, Lisander never stirring abroad, but once under his beggars weeds, to let Calista understand what Olinda had done for her, and to know from her also whether the Porter had faithfully told her what was resol­ved to be done the night before the feast of Kings, whereof being satisfied, hee expected the Eve of the feast of Kings with great longing. In the meane time Berontus knowing that Olinda had solicited for the deferring of Calista's judg­ment, went upon that occasion to visit her, made offer to joyne with her in her request, desiring not only a delay there­in, but Calista's freedome; so that hee who was guilty of his brothers death might appeare: And although Olinda was in a faire way of agreeing them, and that Berontus for Ambrisia's love did desire it; yet Calista was so farre in the hands of ju­stice, that it was not thought possible to get her out by any [Page 129] agreement. When the Eve of the feast of Kings was come, the Master Gaoler of the prison intended to make merry (accor­ding to his ancient custome) with his wife and her friends, the chiefest of whom was the Register, and the Hangman his Gossip; they were to choose a King by a beane, and after­wards fall to drinking: for this cause the Porter had made choice of this night, as fittest for this purpose, well knowing that sleep doth ordinarily follow drunkennesse: Calista and Lisander were advertised to bee ready, the one to goe out of the Castle, the other to bee out in the street about eleven of the clocke (as it was agreed) with this charge, that if they lost this opportunity, they must hope for no other, nor yet think to prolong Calista's judgement any longer, which must needs bee both mortall and infamous. Lisander came about ten of the clock with Alcidon and foure other Gentlemen, every one armed with Pistols, and well mounted to prevent all Trea­son, and rather to kill all the Provosts and Archers of Paris, than suffer themselves to be taken. The Porter had received the thousand Crownes which were promised, and Lisander and Calista did impatiently wait for the clockes striking ele­ven, which in the end strucke, yet in vaine both for the one and the other: when Lisander heard the clocke strike ele­ven, and could not see his man, he thought that hee was be­trayed, yet long hee was not of this opinion before the Por­ter appeared; but when Lisander saw him come alone, hee was about to have killed him, verily beleeving that hee would breake his promise: neverthelesse he forbore, desiring to heare what he would say, which was, that having heard the clocke strike eleven, and not being able to execute his de­signe, he came now to intreat him to have patience, and not thinke much at his waiting, for if his Master were asleepe, who was not yet retired into his chamber, hee would with­out faile deliver the prisoner. This comforted Lisander, but not Calista, who having expected eleven with so much long­ing, and told it with so much earnestnesse, when shee saw it passe without hearing any body, shee accounted her selfe lost, and confirmed her selfe in that opinion, because the [Page 130] Porter had no meanes to come into her chamber, to give her that advertisement which hee had done unto Lisander; yet there remained some weake hope which flattered her griefe while the clock struck twelve, but that being struck, she ut­terly despaired of her liberty, and consequently of her life.

In this agony more deadly than death it selfe, came the Porter (when she had lost all hope) who opening the doore of her chamber (a thing so far from her thought & expecta­tion, at an houre when all things else slept) troubled so much her minde with his unexpected comming, and with the first motions of a sudden joy, from an extremity of the contrary passion, that in stead of going out (as they had projected) she fell down upon the floore in a swound. The Porter was in­finitely astonished, and running unto her, said, Madam, will you undoe mee, who have had a desire to save you? sake courage, rise up, and see your friends who are here hard by waiting for you. Yet at these words Calista stirred not: the Porter was made, his wife, who was appointed to wait up­on Calista, was desperate, all was in disorder and confusion: if Calista had not come to her selfe again, who seeing the dan­ger which shee did run by her stay, with a lively apprehensi­on of her infamy and punishment, rose up, & instantly went out of the chamber, to the Porters infinite contentment and his wives: But as she was hastily going down the stairs, which were an ill-favoured paire of stone, her feet light a­gainst an old Cauldron of brasse (wherein they did use to put fire in cold weather) which tumbling downe from the top unto the bottome, made such a noise that all had been spoi­led, if (by great good fortune for them) the Gaoler and all his friends had not beene so buried in wine and sleepe, that they would not have heard a Petar. Calista thus went out of the Castle with the woman who tended her, and the Porter, leaving the gates open, and with no lesse feare than joy came into the street, where she gave her selfe into Lisanders armes and Alcidons, who received her with an incomparable joy; and having placed her in a Caroch (with the woman who alwaies after remained with her) they retired themselves un­to [Page 131] Alcidons, bidding the Porter first farewell, who was resol­ved to retire himselfe into some other place. To tell you Li­sanders joy, Alcidons pleasure, the thankes which Calista gave them, the words, the teares, the kisses and embracings which afterwards past between Olinda, Argire and shee, I should ne­ver have done: Onely, having spent the best part of the night, they went towards morning to rest and sleep, after so many dangerous stormes, and so many sorrowes; where I will suf­fer them to remaine in peace, as unwilling to trouble their rest, untill we come to the eighth part of this History, where with more contentment we shall see her innocency verified, whose impri­sonment and liberty we have already seene.

THe accidents of this world are so mingled one with another, that feare ordinarily suc­ceedeth hope, and good and evill do follow one the other like day and night; so unto the joy for Calista's delivery, succeeded the sorrow for her departure, with a thousand important reasons made necessary. And whereas shee had thought, that being once out of the Castle, she had been free from all care, more than to justifie her selfe with time, shee then saw herselfe wrapped among difficulties and griefes, which gave little place unto the former. A poore condition of mortals, who alwaies longing for what is to come, and earnestly thirsting after them, when wee have swallowed them, wee finde our selves as unsatisfied as wee vvere at the first.

After then that the Gaoler had digested his vvine, and ri­sing earely in the morning, according to the manner of such people (vvho never sleepe but vvhen the Devill rocks them) found his prison doores open, his Porter gone, and Calista vvith her Keeper escaped, there vvas no small noise in the house: yet after hee had in vaine tormented himselfe, not knovving vvhere to search for her, nor vvhat to do, he adver­tised [Page 134] the Justice, and the adverse parties, who were Berontus and Verasco, who diversly apprehended this newes: for Be­rontus, who was most interessed in the death of his brother, and who ought to have stirred most at Calista's flight, was least troubled, although he dearely loved Cleanders memory, and extremely desired revenge. But were it that hee would doe it himselfe with more courage and knowledge, or that he did thinke Calista innocent, he was in his heart very glad that shee had made an escape: But contrariwise Verasco made earnest request, that hee might bee suffered to search O­linda's house; who soliciting for her, seemed to have been the onely cause of her escaping from the punishment of her crime.

Alcidon was not yet risen, when Berontus came unto him, and being brought into his chamber, told him, how Calista, with the woman who kept her, and the Porter of the prison, had broken prison, advertising him further of his uncles de­signe to cause Olinda's house to be searched, entreating him to let her know so much from him, to the end that if Calista should be retired thither, care might be had that shee were not taken againe, because it would much empaire her con­dition, and doe her more harme than she thought to doe her selfe by escaping. Alcidon, not knowing whether this were a pretence, and distrusting Berontus in a matter of this impor­tance, answered him, that there was no appearance of Olin­da's medling in this businesse, especially without his privity, who was her neighbour and her friend, and who saw so cleerly through her actions: that it was not the enterprise of a woman, but of a man, yea and of a valiant man, and as much as Lisander (if hee had beene in France) durst have at­tempted; yet he would not faile to advertise her what he had said, though it served but to let her know the good will which he bore unto her sister in law. With this Berontus de­parted, seeing no body but Alcidon, who going instantly un­to Lisanders chamber, & both of them into the Ladies, who were up and ready, told them all that which hee had learnt of Berontus. A remedy for this there was none but to bee gone, yet whither they knew not: for to retire into Nor­mandy [Page 135] unto Calista's parents, the small account which they had made of her life, beleeving her guilty of Cleanders death, did sufficiently witnesse that they would not receive her; nei­ther could she have beene more assured there than in any o­ther place, for the King doth force obedience all over his Kingdome, which Lisander swore rather to dye than suffer: so that Calista must resolve not alone to leave such deare com­pany, unto whom, besides her ancient affection, shee was newly so much bound, but her native country France, where shee had beene so tenderly brought up, and take upon her a flight into a strange countrey, from all her acquaintance, un­der the conduct of a man, unto whom in effect she was obli­ged for her life and her honour, but who in appearance, and in the opinion of the world, had beene the ruine of them both, together with the losse of her husbands life: judge if Calista, a woman of a vertuous and noble carriage, could be sensible of this. Olinda and Argire had no lesse feeling than she her selfe, yet the bitternesse must be digested. Calista re­solved to depart in the beginning of the night with Lisander, his faithfull footman, who was come from Flanders du­ring the feast, and this woman who waited upon her in prison, with a Gentlewoman whom Olinda offered unto her. Alcidon made provision of sixe good Horses in a Coach, to the end that during the long night (alwayes at this time of the yeere) they might make a great journey; and Olinda re­tired her selfe unto her owne house, expecting the search whereof Berontus had advertised her, which (neverthelesse) was afterwards hindred by himselfe: so that this whole day was past with much feare, care, and teares, and as much griefe for Calista's departure, as joy for her deliverance. In the eve­ning, Olinda being come from her lodging, they supped toge­ther in great sadnesse: after followed such pitifull adieues, that I will not by relating them afflict the reader of this sto­ry, sorrow having ordinarily this contagious quality, that wee cannot see it in others, without feeling it in our selves. After the last embracings, upon this separation, Calista and her woman entred alone into the Coach, about eight of the clocke at night, and going out of Paris by S. Denis gate, shee [Page 136] tooke her way towards Flanders through Picardy, followed on horsebacke by Lisander and Alcidon, who (with the same Gentlemen who had assisted him the night before) accom­panied him beyond Seutlis, where he tooke his leave of Cali­sta and Lisander, with more hearts griefe unto all three than can be spoken; and there leaving the two Gentlemen, hee tooke his way backe to Paris in poste, fearing that if his ab­sence should be knowne, hee might be suspected to have bin of the party. Calista and Lisander after their departure from Alcidon, used all the diligence possible they could untill they had gotten into Cambray, where having rested themselves two dayes, they tooke their way to Bruxels with more ease and leisure, Lisander entring into the Coach with her, and causing his horse to bee ledde by. But they were no sooner out from the stroaks of Fortune wherewith they had bin so beaten, when Calista's beauty wiping away in Lisanders mind the remembrance of former sorrowes, and the appre­hension of those which might come, renewed the cruell flames of love: neverthelesse considering the pitifull ashes of his friend, Calista's present estate, hardly recovered from the astonishment of so many bloody disasters, whereof his love had in part beene the occasion, and his owne miserable condition, who by his former unhappinesse, was fallen into disgrace with his Prince, and into the evill opinion of all France, he thought although it were by anothers fault, yet his love had done injury unto Cleanders friendship, and unto Ca­lista's chastity, to whom as yet he durst not touch upon that string. Being come unto Bruxels, the Arch-Duke (who knew Lisanders valour, both by the report of what he had done in France, and what hee had done for the Hollanders against himselfe) having welcommed him according to his worth, and shewed him extraordinary favour, which hee did com­municate to few, made him offer of two thousand crownes pension by the yeere, to draw him to his service, which Li­sander would not accept, humbly entreating his Highnesse to pardon him, if he could not be pensionary unto any man be­sides his King, with whom although he were now in dis­grace, rather by his misfortune than through his fault, yet he [Page 137] would not commit this errour, to take pay of any man but of him: neverthelesse humbly thanking his Highness, whose most obedient servant he would remain all his life without wages. And although in this Lisander performed the duty of a brave and generous Knight (as he was) yet hee had oc­casion to repent himselfe shortly after, though in the end it fell out happily for him, as we shall see in the progresse of this History.

As for Calista, so soon as she knew the name of the French Embassadors wife, with whom she had beene acquainted at Paris, shee went (with Lisanders consent) to lye at her lodg­ing, thereby hoping to avoide the scandall of lying at his chamber. And as nothing is impregnable to her graces, shee drew the Embassadors wife so much to her friendship, that shee was afterwards very profitable unto her: for the King (being advertised that they were both retired unto Bruxels, and humbly entreated as well by Cloridons friends as by Cle­anders, that hee would not suffer the murder of two such Knights to passe unpunished, whom they thought had been murdred by Lisander, who (said they) not content wickedly to have killed his friend Cleander by the helpe of his wives conspiracy, is not now ashamed to live with her in the face of all the world) writ unto his Embassadour that hee should seize upon them both▪ which had beene done without faile, if the Embassadors wife, who heard an inkling thereof, had not first advertised Calista, who (together with Lisander) get­ting away as well as they could, went both together into Frisland, and so escaped this danger with no lesse labour than the former.

I know that some Authors, lesse faithfull than slanderous, or willing rather to imitate the Roman of Amadis, than to follow the thread of a true discourse, have said, that in the course of this voyage▪ and during their abode in these parts, Calista, vanquished with Lisanders importunities & services, ye [...]lded in the end into the violence of his desires: But such Authors having had more knowledge of the false report which in thi [...] time was spread against her, than of her ver­tues, have [...] tran [...]ported by the passion of her ene­mies, [Page 138] than by the truth of the Story. But leaving them in Friseland, and this discourse of them in the world, wee will returne unto Paris, unto which place Ambrisia came (a little after their going) upon a letter which she had received from Lisander, and shortly after came Lidian upon a letter of Olin­da's. They met all together at the same Olinda's house with Alcidon, who received them with no lesse contentment than they gave, by telling of Calista's innocency & liberty; Ambrisia was as joyfull for her brother, as Lidian for his sister, and for Lisander himselfe, whom with reason above all men living he loved.

Berontus knowing of Ambrisia's comming, would, accor­ding to his accustomed manner, have gone to see her, as one whose love was not altered by any former accidents: But she entreated him not to think evill, if shee could not accept of this honour, untill there were better correspondency be­tweene him and her brother; although shee so visibly loved him, that Lidian, offended with Berontus his prosecution a­gainst his sister, had challenged him into the field, if the re­spect unto Ambrisia and her teares, had not prevailed; where­in she was assisted by Alcidon and Argire, and by Olinda, who was alone more powerfull in this, than all of them. As for Verascus, the consideration of his age kept Lidian from quar­relling with him: But Alcidon having told unto Berontus all the treason of Clarinda, as you have heard, who for to hide her shamefull life with Leon, had accused her Mistresse of her owne fault, and finally caused Cleanders death, who could not bee killed but by Leon, seeing it was hee who found Li­sanders sword, who was at the time of Cleanders death in Flanders (as hee said) hee had learnt as well from Lisander as from Calista, and that it was to be beleeved in regard of Leons flight. To be short, having demonstrated unto him, that in the taking of Leon consisted the cleering and proofe of the whole businesse, he made both Lidian and Berontus sweare to enter in quest with himselfe, never giving over untill either the one or the other of them had found him, and that hee who first should finde him, should lead him to Paris, and make it known unto the other. So leaving their Mistres­ses [Page 137] at Paris, they all three one after another departed to seeke for Leon in all places of the world; where we will let them goe, and returne unto Lisander.

We have left him in Friseland, disputing Calista's favours, whose beauty gave so full into the eyes of a young Frison Lord called Berengarius, with so great lightning, that he was too weake to suffer it; for although her minde was possest with sorrow, and mourning covered her face, yet could not the lustre of her excellent perfection, wherewith she was in­riched, be defaced. Lisander, who did not lead her thither for him, seeing that he did openly declare himselfe confident of the friends and meanes which he had in the Countrey, from a lover, which hee was, became jealous, and fearing to in­wrap himselfe in new mischiefes, yet languishing under the ruines of those which had overwhelmed him, he knew not what order to give, when as Calista preventing him in this care, intreated him to lead her into some other place, alledg­ing for her reason, that this aire was unwholsome, & hiding the feare shee had of the events which the rashnesse of this lover might produce, who being an Almain, and lesse subtile than naturall, did so ill disguise his affection, that one not so cleare-sighted as Lisander might easily observe it, which was the true cause that moved her to make this request: Lisander was glad that this motion came from her, for hee thought it was liberty enough for him to let her see his love, without making his jealousie knowne, neither did he give her any oc­casion to thinke that any such hammer beat in his head; but representing unto her how far they were from their friends, destitute of all goods, which were seized upon and confisca­ted, and had no meanes long to support the expence which they were constrained to be at, he intreated her to be willing that he might carry her into Gascoigne, where hee had some places so farre from the Court, that there would bee none to discover them, and so strong that they could not be surprised though they were discovered; whereunto Calista yeelded, to avoid a greater mischiefe (which neverthelesse they could not shunne) upon condition that he should first have her in­to Normandy, to endevour to recover the favour of her pa­rents, [Page 138] that having justified themselves with them, they might make their innocency appeare before all the world, and so recovering their ancient glory and reputation which they had in France, together with the Kings grace and favour, they might with the approbation of all their friends contract to­gether a lawfull marriage:

This being concluded and agreed upon betweene them, earely in a morning without taking leave of any body, they trussed up their baggage, and entring into a Caroch, Lisander, Calista, and her two women, followed with two Gentlemen well horsed, and with some other servants, who, with his faithfull footman, ledde Lisanders good Horse along with him; they tooke their way towards France, following the least beaten wayes, that they might not be knowne. Already were they come upon the confines of Frisland, Lisander lo­sing both the remembrance of Berengarius and his countrey, studying nothing more, than how to establish himselfe in his own; when they discovered five or sixe horsemen comming after them, whom Berengarius (vexed at Calista's departure) had assembled together to take her away from him upon the way. At the first they did not thinke that they were enemies, wherefore they hastned not their way; but when they saw them come a gallop, Lisander leapt out of the Coach, & was hardly on horsebacke, when hee knew Berengarius in the head of his men, who saluted him with a Pistoll shot, and in the same instant all the others discharged theirs, aswel on him as on those who accōpanied him, who returning fire for fire discharged theirs; so that at this first encounter foure fell to the ground, which were Lisanders two Gentlemen, and two of Berengarius his men. But it was Gods will that Lisander should escape, although hee were covered with flames and blood, that by his hands might be punished Berengarius his rapine, who fell unto the ground mortally wounded with the shot of a Pistoll, which was given him by Lisander, who like a lion flew among the rest with his sword, and either scattered or killed them all; acting in the fury wherein hee was, and in Calista's sight, such valiancies, that thereby he did lessen all those which heretofore hee had done, to the asto­nishment [Page 139] of the world. Having revenged the death of his men with so bloody an execution, and no body left with him but a little Flemmish boy, and his old faithfull footman, who was wounded with a Pistoll in the shoulder, and hee with two shot, although not so dangerous, and with some blowes of swords which were but sleight, he was constrai­ned to retire himselfe in great diligence, and no lesse sorrow, untill he were gotten out of the limits of Frisland, causing his faithfull Footman to get upon his Horse, hee himselfe going into the Coach with Calista, untill they came unto their lodg­ing, where hee himselfe dressed first his owne wounds, and then his footmans, washing them with wine and oyle, as he had learned of the Capuchin, who healed him of the wound which Chrisantes had given him: but because the Footmans shoulder-bone was broken, whereby he was not able to en­dure travaile, he was constrained to leave him behind in the same lodging, to whom he gave money in large manner for the charges of healing his wounds, commanding him so soone as he should be well to follow him in Gascoigne: he himselfe (making the little Flēmish boy ride upon his Horse) went into the Coach, having no wound which could keepe him from travaile, and being but foure, drawn by sixe good horses, they made such haste that in seven or eight dayes they came into Normandy, within sixe leagues of Bellaire (so was the house called where Calista had received her birth.) It was then in the beginning of April, at what time the earth begins to waxe beautifull, and the dayes long. There they entred in­to deliberation, how they should proceed with Dorilas; for to go directly to Bellaire, not knowing how they should be received, they were none of them of the minde: and al­though Lisander had infinitely obliged him, as well in saving his owne life, as in saving his sonnes twice, yet (as it is said) benefits are written in the sand, and injuries in metall: hee beleeved with great appearance, that this last act which hee (as it was beleeved) had committed against Cleander, did ut­terly deface and wipe out of the mind and memory of Dori­las, the remembrance and merit of all his former obligations; And that if he would not see his owne daughter, because she [Page 140] was accused for the death of her husband, he would lesse see him, who had beene her instrument therein, and for whose love she had caused him to bee killed; wherefore they resol­ved that Calista should write a letter full of compassion to her father, and another to Otranta her mother, to move them to have some pity of a daughter who had been so deare unto them, and upon their answer they would resolve either to goe thither, or passe by. Calista wrote presently, but then they were more troubled than before for an apt messenger: The faithfull footman was not there, & the Flemming was but a block-head, and they had need of a quick spirited man, who might know and report backe their true dispositions, and helpe abate, and put by the stroakes of her parents anger: So that Lisander could not finde better meanes than to disguise himselfe, and make himselfe the Carrier of Calista's letters; for Dorilas had never seene him but one night at Fountaine Bleau, & then when he had no beard: As for Otranta, he had so well known the affection which she bare unto her daugh­ter, and unto him, that although she should know him, yet he feared no displeasure from her; but contrarily they hoped she would much helpe to convert Dorilas, and to wipe away the evill impressions which hee had conceived against his daughter: Wherefore the next morning he put himselfe into a serving-mans habite, and having hired a horse, taking his Flemmish boy with him, leaving Calista in the lodging he gal­loped so fast, that he came unto Bellaire before dinner, where having made known that he came from her with letters un­to her father and mother, & being brought in unto them, he humbly presented the letters, together with their daughters duety unto them: Dorilas made some difficulty to receive them, yet having opened them with a severe countenance, never imagining that Lisander was the messenger, he found it said thus.

After that Dorilas had read this letter, he found terrible cut­tings with griefe and pity in his minde, which neverthelesse hee dissembled, and giving backe the letter unto Lisander, for answer, said, My friend, tell Calista, that if she were innocent, as she writeth unto me, she need not (to aggravate her crime, rather than justifie her selfe) breake prison, nor flie with him, who is the cause of her doing this wickednes, but if she be so assured of her innocency, as that she can verifie it, let her re­turne into the place from whence shee is escaped, I will be­come her Solicitour, and will employ all that I am worth to recover her honour, and assure her life, shewing my selfe as good a Father as I have beene in former times, when shee li­ved [Page 144] according to that blood and nobleness from whence she is issued▪ but to thinke, that shee living in the opinion of ha­ving killed her husband, and now conversing with his mur­derer, I ought to account her my daughter, or regard her let­ters of teares, she is much deceived, and so I pray tell her Li­sander never heard words so grievous as those, not daring to answer again; yet he was constrained to say that he knew Ca­lista & Lisander so well, that the quality of a murderer was no way fitting to the one, nor of an adulteresse unto the other, & that hee would sweare they were both innocent of what they were accused; but by that which he had heard, the cause which hindred them from justifying themselves, was, Li­sanders not daring to present himselfe. And why doth he not present himselfe, if hee be innocent (answered Dorilas?) Be­cause (replied Lisander) hee had some small time before kil­led Cloridon and Chrisantes, and thereby incurred the Kings displeasure, and he (you know) is astrong adversary. Dorilas with pleasure hearing this discourse, and being glad to un­derstand Calista's justification, especially Lisanders, unto whom hee was so exceedingly obliged▪ entreated him to re­late all that hee had heard reported. Lisander then told him how hee had left his sword after hee had killed Chrisantes, which was found by Leon, who was since gone out of the way; he being in love with Clarinda, had beene the cause of this pitifull tragedy (as you have heard): with this discourse Dorilas was much pleased, yet was not resolved to send for his daughter Calista, neither did hee know that shee was so nigh, Lisander having told him, that she was in Frisland; but asking if Lisander were with her, and the same Lisander assu­ring him that he was not, hee said, hee was the onely man of the world unto whom hee was bound, and that hee should receive no lesse contentment to understand his innocency than his daughters; that in truth hee did wish him all, being carried away with the common beliefe of this false report: But seeing it was so, hee would goe speedily to the Court, (whither hee had seen Lillian) to employ all his friends to re­store [...] to the Kings [...], to the end that purging him­selfe together with Calista from the murther of Cleander, hee [Page 145] might receive them both into his house as his children. And that in the meane time Calista, in the place where shee was, should expect newes from him, and should endevour to preserve that, which he did assure himselfe, she had not lost. Whilest Dorilas thus spake unto Lisander without knowing him, Otranta not marking him, read Calista's letter, which contained these words.

It cannot be said that two letters so pitifull, from a daugh­ter so faire, did not touch hearts so noble as those of her Pa­rents; for they were pierced even to the very soule: but it may be truly said, that they were not so touched, that either of them would resolve to send for their daughter to their house, which often made me thinke, it is not without cause said, The Norman is a terrible nation. Otranta neverthe­lesse, who was a woman, could not so well cover her affecti­on as Dorilas; for her teares wherewith she had wet the let­ter while she read it, did witnesse it sufficiently without see­ing [Page 147] her face, and having her heart so opprest with sorrow that shee could not speake, shee commanded that Lisander should bee had to dinner with the servants, saying that after dinner shee would give him answer: In the meane time she and Dorilas sate downe to dinner, where they resolved what they should write, and send backe to Calista; for they judged she could not unwind her selfe from so many troubles with­out excessive charge. After dinner Otranta being retired into her chamber, shee called for the messenger, unto whom, not yet knowing him, shee said: My friend, I am a mother, and consequently cannot deny but that I love Calista, who is my child, and the more, because she hath hitherto obliged me un­to it by her good nature, which never belyed her birth; but this wicked accident hath given so great a wound unto her renowne, that together with her vertues, for which she hath been honoured over the kingdome, she hath lost the naturall affection of her parents, who had rather deny their blood, than avow it in favouring so detestable a crime. Neverthe­lesse, seeing you say there needes onely but the presenting of Lisander to justifie Calista, there shall neither be wanting our meanes, nor the favour which wee can have in Court; all which wee will employ to the uttermost of our frien [...]s, and of our estate, to the justifying both of the one and the other▪ for the obligations which lye upon us from Lisander, are such, that wee will not employ our selves lesse for him than for her. But tell mee friend, are they not alwaies together? No Madam, answered Lisander, they are not I assure you, but though they should, whither would you that she should re­tire her selfe, rather than to him, who is at this day the onely proppe both of her honour and her life? Alas, said Otranta; he will never so well support it as hee hath ruined it. If hee hath ruined it (replied Lisander) it is but in appearance, but in effect hee hath preserved it, and will maintaine it against the world; and if you thinke evill of her being with him, why doe you not take her home unto you? I know that Ca­lista never longed after any other thing, and o [...] her will de­pendeth Lisanders, who will as willingly render her into your hands, as hee drew her from the hands of justice: but [Page 148] would you that she should wander up and down the world as a cast-a-way, as you have left her? With these last words Lisander was so transported in passion, that forgetting the part which he plaied, he lost both the countenance and fashi­on of a servingman, and tooke upon him his owne true car­riage: So that Otranta marking him more curiously, knew him no lesse by his gesture, than by his words, and remained almost transported with astonishment. He seeing himselfe knowne, and that from thence came Otranta's perplexity, proceeded in his discourse in this manner; Madam, bee not astonished to see mee thus disguised, Calista's vertues deserve that all extraordinary enterprises should bee attempted for her service: But that you may know it is with that honour wherein I am tyed, I doe entreat you to take her home un­to you, and to beleeve that this request is the farthest from my desire (which is to bee alwayes with her) and onely to conforme my selfe to hers, and to let you see how much I preferre her contentment before that which I receive in her sight. O Lisander, said Otranta, who can deny you so just a request, and so fitting to Calista's reputation? Alas, if it bee true (which I doubt not) that you are innocent of her mis­fortune, and Cleanders death, what satisfaction can equall this your merit? Merit, answered Lisander, there is none, and for my innocency, I hope God will doe me the favour to make them see it, who will not now beleeve it. Many other dis­courses passed betweene them, which would be too tedious to relate; after which, Lisander having told her where he had left Calista, they agreed that he should returne unto her, with­out discovering himselfe unto Dorilas, who going two or three daies after unto the Court, would leave Otranta at liber­ty to be able to send for her daughter.

Thus was our messenger sent backe, who having found his Flemming, returned a gallop the same night unto Calista, and gave her a faithfull account of his message: Calista, who was wearied with leading so miserable a life from one countrey to another, with so small pleasure and lesse honour, seeing the evill opinion was conceived of her love unto Li­sander, and seeing how freely hee had employed himselfe for [Page 149] her in this last action, did no lesse esteeme this service than a­ny of the former, because in those former hee had served her against her enemies, and in this against himselfe. When hee drew her out of prison, it was to save her life, without which hee could not live, and to enjoy her presence, which was his soveraigne good; so that it was to content himselfe as well as Calista: But here hee laboured to lose himselfe with her sight, and to condemne himselfe unto a perpetuall torment to leave her in rest, and he will repent himselfe at leisure. Du­ring those three dayes which they stayed in their lodging, ex­pecting Dorilas going to the Court, Calista never spake of any thing but of Lisanders goodnesse, and how much shee was beholding unto him, which shee protested to engrave in her memory with an eternall character: Lisander entreated her to take pity of the griefe, which the apprehension of this de­parture wrought in him, and the languishings which would consume him in her absence.

Above all things Madam (said he) remember the promise which it pleased you to make mee, and the honest affection wherewith I have endevoured to merit it. Give me not cause to repent the great respect I have born you, and the incompa­rable obedience wherewith I have moderated the violencies of my passion, otherwise you will convert my patience in­to fury, my discretion into folly, and you will reduce mee to the greatest despaire that ever wretched soule was brought unto. Whereunto Calista answered, Lisander, either you have forgotten who I am, or else you thinke my judgement is not capeable of knowing what you are; yet I do not think that any of my actions or words could lead you to these di­strusts: remember that Calista cannot bee accused of ingrati­tude, but by such as doe not know her, and although misfor­tune should carry her to this vice against all the world, yet it is not possible she should be so to you, to whom shee oweth more than unto all men in the world. So did these lovers comfort themselves, expecting newes from Otranta, who failed not to give them notice immediately after Dorilas his departure, which was within three dayes that Lisander had delivered Calista's letters. The day of his departure being [Page 150] come, Lisander conducted Calista within the view of Bel­laire (not willing to goe in with her, fearing lest the over much sorrow which would possesse him at his departure, might give more knowledge of his love to Otranta, than hee desired she should have); and there, as they would have bid one another farewell, the faire words which were accusto­med to have birth in their mouthes, dyed now there, and that which they had premeditated to speake, vanished; wit­nessing that a meane griefe sharpneth the spirit, but an exces­sive one astonisheth it. In the end Lisander said, this depar­ture should be lesse cruell than it is, if it did leave mee power to bid you farewell, and my griefe would be lesse, if it would suffer me to complaine: that which comforteth mee is, that I suffer for you, who merit more, and the cause of my mar­tyrdome allaieth the cruelty; receiving also so great glory in obeying you, that there is no kinde of torment, which my obedience and your service would not make agreeable. And I conjure you my faire one, by the eternall lights of your faire eies, the onely Sun whose raies and eclipses I am not able to beare (yet whose light I am now constrained to lose) that you will forget me the least you can in these darknesses, wherein I goe to inwrappe my selfe during your absence. Lisander, said Calista, you see this great light which shineth over our heads, I doe call it to witnesse, that it shall sooner cease to lighten the world, than I will cease to love you: you have obliged mee too much, and when my ingratitude should come to this height of forgetfulnesse, your valour is so neces­sary, that it would cause it to be sought for unto the worlds end. Farewell, since the influence of the starres doe con­demne us to this separation, preserve mee alwayes in your memory, and beleeve mee, your name and representation shall bee alwayes the dearest jewels of my life. In speaking these words, Calista lovingly kissed her Lisander, with more liberty than ever shee had done, and Lisander embraced her with feelings of joy almost incomprehensible: In the end (almost forceably) they snatcht one the other out of their armes, separating themselves with sorrow no lesse pitifull, than the love which produced it was true. Calista followed [Page 151] her way to Bellaire, and Lisander being on horsebacke fol­lowed her, with his eyes fixed upon her as stedfastly, and as immoveably, as if they had been of a Statue, untill he saw her Coach enter into the Castle: and when he had lost his North-starre, O God, what darknesse, what trouble, what confusi­on rose in his minde! I make a conscience to abandon him in this solitarinesse, more pursued and more torne by his own affection, than Acteon by his dogges. Calista being come to Bellaire, was received by Otranta with great testimony of love, sorrow, and pity of her misfortune: There were their teares renewed; there motherly affections succeeded amo­rous, and amorous gave place to motherly: cleane contrary unto poore Lisander, who onely entertained himselfe with imaginations, and lived onely with hopes of love. Hee (af­ter he had lost his faire Beare) tooke his way towards Paris, determining to enter by night, and see his friends as hee pas­sed by, or else to learne some newes, although it were with hazzard of his life: And as he passed S. Germyn, it being late, travailing in the fresh of the evening upon the bankes of Seine, softly, as well because he would spare his horse, as be­cause he would not come by day light to Paris, he perceived foure Archers of the Provost Marshall, who came upon a trott after him, and amongst them hee perceived a souldier, a prisoner upon horsebacke, with his legges tyed under the belly. Lisander had no sooner beheld him, but hee remem­bred hee had seene his face, yet hee could not call to minde where; wherefore a little mending his pace, he entreated the Archers to tell him who hee was, and whither they carried him: Wee carry him to prison (answered one of them) unto the Castle at Paris, where hee was sometime Porter, and to tell you more, wee should have something to doe, if wee should render an account of all wee take, unto all that aske us. By this answer, Lisander knew that it was the Porter who had delivered Calista, who by ill fortune was fallen into those Archers hands; and being desirous to deliver him, hee said unto them: Friends, this poore man if you carry him unto Paris will be hanged, and it will but breed sorrow unto you for having beene the cause of his death: but if you will [Page 152] give him unto mee, I will give you twenty crownes to goe drinke, and he shall be bound to pray for you all his life. We neither care for his prayers nor your crownes (answered an­other) and it may be, it had been better for you, you had been lesse officious, and not so charitable. How (said Lisander) will you also take me prisoner, because I am charitable? Not so, answered the Archer, but if the party who causeth him to be taken prisoner, knew the care you have to deliver him, it may be hee would make you be further examined. Leave that care unto the party (said Lisander) and deliver mee your prisoner, for I desire much to have him. You doe but jest (answered an Archer) we will answer him unto the Justice. By your leave (replied Lisander) you shall not have him to prison, before I know whether hee be willing or no to goe: and withall he said unto the prisoner, speake unto me friend, Is it willingly or by constraint that thou goest to prison? By force Sir (answered the prisoner.) Truly then (said Lisander) this is a great injustice in this manner to force free persons: Well, my masters, seeing you will not let him goe for mony, free him for nothing, or else resolve to dye by my hand. The Archers at the first thought hee had beene in jest, or that hee had beene mad; but seeing him come violently upon them with his sword in his hand, they beganne to defend them­selves, which served them to little purpose; for Lisander was well horsed, and knew so well to take advantage by the nimblenesse of his Horse, and with the goodnesse of his sword, that hee layed two of the stoutest along upon the ground; the rest betooke them to their heeles, leaving him the prisoner, who knowing by whom hee was freed, could not give thanks sufficient. Lisander made his Flemmish boy speedily unbinde him, and both of them to follow him, who in stead of going to Paris (as hee projected) left it upon the left hand, and taking his way towards Gascoigne, rode so hard all night, that before day he came unto Estampes, where having rested himselfe a while, he tooke Poste with the Por­ter (who never forsooke him after that day) and his good horse, with the Flemming, to come after by easie journeyes unto Tholose.

[Page 153]In the meane time Dorilas being at Court, emplored the Kings mercy for Lisander, urging his valour, and the fidelity of this Knight, heretofore so remarkable for his combats and by his services, hee touched (as in passing by) the pension which he had refused from the Arch-Duke, although he had no meanes from his Majesty, but contrary that he was in dis­grace, having lost the honour of his favour: I do intreat you, Sir, said hee, in compassion of this old age, and of the disaster wherewith I am miserably afflicted in my last dayes, in the persons of Cleander and Calista, to adde unto so many favours which you have bestowed upon your nobility, that which I demand in Lisanders name for the death of Cloridon and Chrisantes; slaughters which are the most pardonable that ever were, seeing that Lisander being first almost murthered by Cloridons friends, and after challenged by Chrisantes, hee a­lone had killed them both, not only by his valour and fortune but by the justice of his cause, which had beene manifestly assisted by the hand of God.

The King possessed with the love which he had born un­to Cloridon, and with the false report which ran of the com­bate, so much to the disadvantage of Lisanders free and noble heart, and wondring that Dorilas with so much earnestnesse should sue for the pardon of a man who was accused for the murther of his sonne in law, said unto him, that he had gran­ted pardons unto his Subjects for combates nobly decided, but for Murtherers hee never gave any, marvelling further, that he would begge pardon for a man who had branded his reputation with so foule a fault, and who had so mortally offended him in the person of one most neare unto him, wherby he had deserved to have his condemnation pursued. It is for this cause, Sir, answered Dorilas, that I demand Li­sanders pardon, touching Cloridon and Chrisantes deaths, whereof I accompt him innocent, that hee may be punished for the murther of Cleander (if it be true that hee be guilty.) Cleane otherwise (replied the King) Cloridon and Chrisantes friends thinke him guilty of their deaths, and innocent of the other, so either of you is transported with his particular passion: But I, who am or ought to be guided with reason [Page 154] onely, will give unto every one that justice which is due un­to him. Sir, answered Dorilas, to the doing of justice, first be­longs the knowing of the cause, and to the knowing of the cause, belongs the hearing of the parties: Your Majesty can­not justly condemne Lisander without first hearing his justi­fication; but agreeing that hee killed Cloridon and Chrisantes, it followes that hee did well or ill kill them; if well, it fol­lowes that your Majesty may pardon him; and if ill, you may punish him after you have given him pardon: for justice doth not allow of pardons gotten upon a false sug­gestion; so your Majesty may in time bee cleare of Lisanders innocency in respect of the combat. For I am sure he will of­fer himselfe, not onely to prove that he killed them like an honest man, but also to purge himselfe from Cleanders mur­ther: which I the rather desire, Sir, because upon his justifica­tion dependeth Calista's. But how should he justifie himselfe (said the King) of two crimes, both cōmitted without wit­nesse? Sir, said Dorilas, it is for his adversaries to convince him, and for him to defend himselfe; I doe not know what proofes they can have against him: But in respect of the combat, Chrisantes before he died spake with Leon and with [...]erontus, who have told the truth to Lisanders great advan­tage, although they were his enemies, as the events have since shewed. As for Cleanders murther, it is certaine that Lisander was at Bru [...]els when it was committed, and that he left his sword (by which circumstance they would con­vince him of the murther) in the field where he killed Chri­santes, having broken it in the hilts with the reverse blow wherewith he cut off Chrisantes his arme, and accommoda­ted himselfe both with Cloridons horse and sword, which he yet hath. But, Sir, though this did not nor could appeare, what better course can your Majesty hold, than that which your progenitors have held? alwayes when such cases have hapned, so doubtfull that the truth could not bee knowne, they have granted the combate to the accusers or the accused, who did demand it. There was standing by at the Kings din­ner, where Dorilas pleaded Lisanders cause, a young Knight called Lucidon, who was Chrisantes his Nephew, and one of [Page 155] the activest Gentlemen of France, who hearing pardon as­ked for his Uncles death, and fearing lest Dorilas his reasons might bee of force with the King, prostrated himselfe at his Majesties feet, most humbly beseeching him, that the death of two such Knights as Cloridon and Chrisantes might not go unpunished for want of proofe, seeing it was well knowne such actions were alwaies performed with the fewest wit­nesses that could bee brought, and that Lisander had killed all that could witnesse; yea even unto the foot-boyes, thereby, as it was most likely, to hide the foule play of the combate. That in case it could not be verified according to the ordina­ry forme of justice, hee did require that according to the cu­stome alledged by Dorilas, hee might be suffered to challenge Lisander, and decide this combate by a second combate. Whereunto Dorilas answered, The Kings presence (Lucidon) makes you speake, and me hold my peace, but if the inviola­ble respect which we owe unto his Ma. were not, this white beard (such as you see it) would enforce it selfe to shew you that there was no foule play in that action, and if the King please, without entring into further proofe, I doe offer to maintaine it in the field, my person against yours. I had ra­ther (said Lucidon) that it were with your Sonne, neverthe­lesse I hope having done with you, I may then finish with Lisander himselfe, of whom question is made at this time; wherefore I will not refuse you. Dorilas was much provoked with this answer, and would have answered againe, but the King cōmanded them both to silence, forbidding them upon paine of his displeasure to proceede any further. And having granted Lisanders pardon, upon condition that hee did come and procure it to bee allowed within one moneth; and that he might safely come and justifie himselfe of Cleander [...] death, he did assure him from being troubled for any thing but mur­thers. It was thought that next unto the justice of the cause, nothing disposed the King so much to the granting of this pardon, as Lisanders refusing the Arch-Dukes pension.

With this expedition Dorilas returned to Bellaire▪ where being received by Calista with teares, which drew them mu­tually from his aged eye [...], after the first motion of this en­counter, [Page 156] having informed himselfe of Lisanders retrait, hee dispatched a Gentleman to him in Post, with his pardon, and with a letter, which said thus▪

Dorilas having communicated this letter unto Otranta, and both of them thinking it fit, that Calista should accompany it with a letter from her, who was principally interessed in this businesse, and had most power over Lisander, shee said thus.

This messenger dispatcht with instruction where to finde Lisander; Calista expected only his return: and now thought she held fortune under her feete: But it hapned by great mis­chance, that this Gentleman travailed in a season when the waters were very high and broken out, so that he passing a­long by a little river which flowed out into the way, he saw his Post-boy with his packet fall into the water, whom hee endevouring to save, went so neere as that hee tooke him by the collar; and as a little strength will draw a great waight out of the water, hee had almost pulled him up, when his own stirrop (upon which his whole body rested) brake, and he fell into the Current, where he was (together with all that hee would have saved) lost. Thus Lisander unadvertised, could not come to the Court within the time hee was expected, from whence sprung many displea­sures, which wee shall see happily determined in the sequell of this Story.

LIsander having rode hard, in few dayes came unto the river Garroune, and from thence unto Miramont, the house of his father Adrastus, where hee was re­ceived by the good old man, and by Hypermestra his mother, with teares of joy, and unspeakeable griefe at his re­turne after ten yeeres absence; In which time, hee had broken the course of their lives with alarums and feares of so many accidents which had happened unto him: After the first welcomes & the divers discourses and re­citals of his adventures, wherof he could not be acquitted by once telling of them, the newes of his returne being spread through the countrey, they were visited by many of the No­bility dwelling thereabouts, who, some to see Lisander, o­thers to rejoice with his parents for his returne, came unto Miramont by troupes. The Flemmish boy came shortly af­ter with his good horse, which had been Cloridons; and after him came the faithfull footman, healed of the wound which hee had in his shoulder, which gave Lisander no small con­tent. Adrastus, who had a desire to tye his sonne at home with bonds which could not easily bee broken, fearing his [Page 160] returne unto the Court, where his life was so unassured, de­termined to marry him neere home, with a young, rich, and faire Inheri [...]tix, whose excellent vertues, and farre sur­passing the quality of her sexe, were no lesse admirable than her beauty. This Lady was called Hippolita, whose parents had left her an Orphant under the tuition of a Kinsman of hers, who in her first youth was carefull to second her good nature with exquisite education; as the crescent of her beauty was perfected with ripe [...] yeares, it strooke so in the eyes of this poore Tutor, that forgetting all respect o [...] neerenesse of blood, he could not forbeare witnessing more love than af­fection of parentage: which so much offended the young heart of this maid, that the first time he went out of the Ca­stle (which was exceeding strong) where she was brought up, she shut the gates upon him, keeping him out; there with a maid shee had called Erisila, of like age and disposition, she gave her selfe not onely to such exercises which those of her sexe do ordinarily use, but also to such as are fitting unto men, every day riding of horses, and exercise of Armes, which she did with an unspeakeable dexterity: and this was privately within the inclosure of the Castle wals: but shortly after, her Tutor endevouring to surprise her by force, was shamefully beaten by his Pupill, and by her valour repulsed, whereat he tooke such griefe, that he died, leaving Hippolita free from his love and government. She had also joyned unto these qua­lities so perfect a knowledge in learning, that those who were not taken with the unevitable strokes of her face, were constrained to yeeld themselves to the charmes of her speech, and the sweetnesse of her conversation. All these faire parts, making an excellent agreement in this maid, incited all those who beheld her to adore her (upon whom neverthelesse she would never vouchsafe to cast her eye) and particularly raised a great desire in Adra [...]tus to gaine her for Lisander, unto whom hee would not yet say any thing before hee had seene her, hoping that she would gaine more upon him with one look, than all his remonstrances, joyned with his authority; and otherwise knowing that love is unaptly constrained by duety, and that oftentimes commandements doe destroy de­sire: [Page 161] Hee also knew that Lisander was lost in Calista's affecti­on, and that upon the sudden to endevour to quench those fires, which were so lively in him, to kindle new unto a sub­ject whom hee had not seene, hee thought it would be a dis­course altogether in vaine; wherefore the subtile old man desired that hee might see her before hee made any demon­stration of his intent, hoping that of himselfe he would come into the net, and the rather, if he were not advertised before hand. To attaine hereunto, hee made a match of hunting, unto which Hippolita was intreated, who failed not to come: but hearing that this brave Lisander (whose vertue had soun­ded so loud in her eares) would be there, shee studyed with great Art to tye all those graces together, wherewith shee ac­customed to have her admirable beauty accompanied. For although she had no particular designe upon his person, yet the glory which shee did apprehend in captivating such a courage, made her desire to seeme faire. She therefore appar­relled her selfe in a hunting garment after the Saramatick fa­shion, of crimson Velvet, embroydered with silver, over which hung in a rich scarfe, a faire sword with an excellent grace, her haire was gathered up under a little cap almost co­vered with feathers, and set thicke with stones, which gliste­ring about her head, dazzled their sight who beheld her; but it was little in respect of the lightning which came from her face. Her horse was a [...]ennet of Spain, white as Snow, which shee rode upon rather for bravery than to hunt with. In this manner accompanied with Erisila her maid (whose habite was of the same fashion, but not of the same stuffe) shee met the Assembly. On the other side Lisander, unto whom had beene already figured the cleerenesse of this bright starre, as of a rising Sunne, called for Cloridons horse, and girding his good sword upon a skarlet suit, laced thicke with gold lace, settled himself in a saddle of the same, and followed Adrastus with those who were of the match.

When they came to the place where they intended to cast off their dogges, they found in the same estate I did represent, Hippolita, who both rejoiced and astonished all the troupe with her presence. Never did Atlas appeare so faire to Me­leager, [Page 162] when she hunted the Thessalian Bore, as she then see­med unto Lisander, whom she beheld with an eye full of ad­miration; shee thinking that hee was the fairest object to be seene amongst men. And indeede there was none in the company that did not thinke so, nor any minde so envious which did not confesse that they were the fairest couple in the world: but that which raised greatest admiration, was the sweetnes and gentlenes of their countenance, with fierce­nes of their courages; for they seemed to be two contraries in one subject, and (which was rarely found but in them) equal­ly fierce and gentle, whose hearts were uncapable of feare in any danger, and tractable and easie in conversation. For al­though Lisander were in war sterne and haughty, yet in peace there was nothing more humble: and although Hippolita was (amongst Ladies) both perfectly faire and humble, yet shee was no lesse warlike and stout in armes. And I doe not know which was most rare to finde, either so much beauty in Li­sanders valour, or so much valour in Hippolita's beauty. Be­fore they fell to the sport of hunting, Lisander alighted from his horse, having first made him curvet and bound an hun­dred times before Hippolita, with such justnesse and grace, that those who had taken pleasure in beholding him before, confessed it was nothing in respect of what they received in this action: Hippolita her selfe more than all was ravished by him, whom without doubt she had ravished, if hee had not been formerly gained by another; but his soule was so filled with the most excellent perfections of Calista, that there was no place left for Hippolita to make any impression, where­as Lisander finding Hippolita with a minde free and unposses­sed like a smooth white paper, writ in fiery letters the ever­lasting progresse of his love. All the hunting they gallopped close one by the other, to Adrastus his great contentment, who did beleeve that Hippolita's conversation would work the ordinary effect in Lisander, as in all others, which was, to force him to subjection, which all the company beleeved as well as Adrastus, seeing that Lisander, obliged with so much beauty, and with his own noblenesse, spake unto her of love, unto which she answered, mocking and feigning not to be­leeve, [Page 163] that which indeed shee ought not to have beleeved. In the end, their hunting finishing with the killing of a great Stagge, as they were upon their returne, they found in a Cop­pice a huge overgrowne Boare, so furious and terrible, that neither the Huntsmen with their darts, neither the dogges with their Collars stucke with iron points, durst behold his wilde countenance. Lisander seeing this, leaps from his horse, and sets upon him with his sword, and with much adoe and some danger hee thrust it in betweene the Boares shoulders up to the hilts: But the blow, although it were mortall, could not stay the violence of this fearefull beasts motion, nor Lisander so nimbly shift himselfe, that hee did not rush upon him, and overwhelme him to the ground, carrying away up­on his tuskes a great peece of his Cassaque, so that every one thought him dead: When Adrastus saw his sonne fall, it is not to be demanded whether hee were troubled, and faire Hippolita was no lesse, who nimbly leaping from her horse, instantly ranne before all the rest to helpe him up. But there was no such need, he rising without helpe or hurt, but onely the shame he had for his fall; and the Boare falling upon the other side dead, revived their hearts which were troubled, and raised great joy to succeede this feare, and a great affecti­on in the soule of Hippolita, unto whom the glory of so hardy an action, was as a bellowes to kindle her new fire. Lisander, having presented unto her what they had killed, at the de­parture of the rest of the company went with her untill they came within view of her house, and there obtaining leave to visite her, hee returned unto Miramont after Adrastus, more satisfied than amorous of her beauty. While these things thus passed, the time (within which Dorilas had pro­mised to present Lisander) approached, and there was no newes of him, nor yet of the messenger whom he had sent: which brought care unto Dorilas, griefe unto Otranta, and al­most despaire unto Calista, who knew not what to say, nor what to think of Lisander. On the other side, Lidian having travelled all the Kingdome over to finde Leon, without lear­ning any newes of him, moved with an earnest desire of see­ing his Lady, at the time which was agreed by Alcidon, Be­rontus [Page 164] and himselfe, came backe unto Paris, where having heard of the words that passed from Lucidon unto his father, he presently challenged him. Lucidon bravely accepted it, and both of them demeaned themselves so valiantly, that they were carried both grievously wounded out of the field, with more appearance of death than hope of life. Lucidon got great reputation in bearing himselfe so valiantly against Lidi­an, whose valour was often approved, and had challenged him, although hee had but lately entred his pardon for the like former fact: wherefore his friends fearing lest the Offi­cers of justice would search for him, all wounded as he was, carried him in a Litter by night from Olinda's house where he first was brought, unto a house of Argires in the countrey, foure miles from Paris, named Clarevall, whither came Ar­gire, Olinda and Ambrisia, who, expecting to heare some newes of her brother, had alwaies remained with them, and borne them faithfull company.

In the meanetime Dorilas, seeing the month expired with­in which time he had promised unto the King to bring in Li­sander, returned to Paris, with an intent to combate Lucidon himself, according to the offer which had been made and ac­cepted. But when he came there, finding that his sonne had prevented him, and was yet in his bedde wounded, and be­leeving that it would be thought to be done by his advice, to excuse him from that wherein he had formerly ingaged him­selfe, he was no lesse angry with him for fighting, than sorry for his wounds; yet understanding that hee was carried to Clarvall, hee went to see him, and from thence writ unto O­tranta newes of this accident. Shee hearing that her sonne was wounded, and lay at Argires house neere Paris, came thither with Calista as speedily as shee could, and as secretly as was possible. I neede not relate the complements, the en­tertainments and words which passed amongst the Ladies, especially with Calista, neither could I expresse them: Only I will say, that having found Lidian a little better than they thought, their sorrow was turned into joy, seeing themselves together, although it was not perfect. For besides Lidians wounds, the absence of Alcidon, Lisander his quarrels, and Ca­lista's [Page 165] processe, were sharpe thornes amongst these roses.

In the meane time such as were equally friends unto Lidi­an and Lucidon, seeing they were recovered of their wounds, and seeing the small cause for them to remaine enemies, there having no words of injury passed betweene them, and their wounds being equal, they determined to make them friends, knowing that with the service which they should doe unto the two Knights in agreeing them, they should also please the King which did desire it. The honour, the friends, and the noblenesse of their proceeding had imprinted more af­fection, than the blood which they had drawn one from the other had left hatred, wherefore they were easily disposed to agreement, provided, that in their agreement there might be no speech held of Lisander, who was the first cause of their dispute: but when they should see one the other (which must bee of necessity) because Lidian durst not come unto Paris, Lucidon was brought unto Clarvall, where first embracing Dorilas, and after Lidian, he was ravished with the beauty of the company, especially when his eyes beheld Calista, who blinded him with so violent a passion of love, that from a mortall enemy, which (not long since) he was of her whole house, he was now become a most affectionate servant. He was young, rich, well favoured, comely of personage, of an excellent spirit, and a great courage; charmes which might prevaile much with women, which neverthelesse were not of force with Calista, whose heart was ever turned towards Lisander as the Needle is towards the North, although at this time his absence, and the little newes of him, had much of­fended her. Lucidon finding in Calista a minde drowned in sorrow for the death of Cleander, and onely (as he conceived) capable of griefe, as well for his death as that she was thereof accused, and not yet justified, contented himselfe onely to of­fer her all his service, as well in this as in any other, neither pretending nor hoping for more recompence, than the ho­nour to call himselfe her Knight. And so he tooke his leave, with his friends returning to Paris, more wounded with the arrowes of her eyes, than he had beene before by Lidian her brother, and no lesse studying which way to gaine her, than [Page 166] to destroy Lisander, whom all the world knew both to love her, and to be beloved by her, thinking therby to satisfie both his love and hatred together: wherefore the moneth which the King had given for him to come and enter his pardon was no sooner past, but Lucidon remonstrated unto his Ma­jesty, that his crime heretofore cleere enough was now more than notorious, that otherwise hee would never have failed to appeare within the time which was limited for the en­joying his pardon, which was procured with so much in­stance; but that Lisander, convinced by his conscience, fledde the light of the Sunne which discovered him, confessing by his flight, that hee could neither deny it in justice, nor defend it with armes. He therefore entreated his Majesty to revoke the pardon given him, & yeeld unto the shadowes of Cloridon and Chrisantes the contentment of seeing justice done upon their murtherer; and if any were found who in his absence would defend him in so evill a cause, that hee might be suffe­red to fight with him, and submit his right unto the triall of armes. The King taking Lisanders absence as an ill signe, or­dained, that if within three weekes hee came not, nor some other for him to fight with Lucidon, the pardon which was offered unto him should be void, and hee himselfe should be put into the hands of justice. Further, his Majesty ordained, that the combate should bee on horsebacke, the combatants armed at all points, and in the presence of his Majesty, accor­ding to the ancient custome of this Kingdome: This order comming unto Dorilas his eare, he dispatched Lidian away in Poste unto Lisander, remaining himselfe at Clarevall expe­cting newes.

But being one day at Paris (whither hee ordinarily went) a little after Lidians departure, hee met with two Gascoigne Gentlemen of his acquaintance, who came lately out of the country, by whom informing himselfe of Lisander, no way disguising the trouble of minde that hee had by his absence, considering what businesse called him thither; they told him, that they had left him about a businesse which did well deserve his stay. And what businesse (said Dorilas) can be of such importance unto him, that it can make him forget the [Page 167] care which he ought to have of his honour and his life? Wee know not (said they) neither doth he beleeve that his honour doth oblige him to come hither; but the cause which detains him there, is (I think) partly because he cannot be here in that safety which he desires, and partly for the satisfaction which hee desires to give unto his parents after so long an absence, but the true and strongest chaine, which tyeth him, is the love which hee beares unto a faire Amazon, who will not give him so much liberty to runne up and downe in the world as hee hath done. Then did they so lively describe Hippolita's vertues and beauties, adding the greatnesse of her estate unto her other perfections, that Dorilas certainely be­leeved it was the onely reason why Lisander was deafe un­to his letters, and infinitely bewailing that he had sent Lidian unto him, hee returned to carry this newes to Calista at Clar­vall. To tell you the ravage which this newes made in her minde, the rage and the fury of her jealousie, the despite and the shame she had, to see her selfe so despised and deceived by a man, who had adored her with submissions and humble­nesse, as if it had beene to a Deity, it is not possible, it must bee conceived by thought, or bee represented by some other woman injured by the feeling of the like affront: Neverthe­lesse Calista, being wise and advised as well as faire, wisely dissembled, in the company, what shee felt, and shewed her selfe so discreete and constant in this first motion, that one would have judged this act of Lisander to have beene indif­ferent; but after shee was retired into her chamber, and her doore shut upon her, that she saw she was at liberty to com­plaine, then her griefe, too too strong for her reason, enforced her to words and actions which cannot be related; for with the complaints she made, and the teares she shed, little wan­ted that she did not yeeld up her life: Ah Traytor (said she) and the most spotted with infidelity that the sunne ever saw, is it thus, that thou at need leavest the too easie and credu­lous Calista! at the least ungratefull; thou shouldst have stai­ed untill shee had recovered the honour which by thy occa­sion shee hath lost, and thou shouldest have assured the life which the too much affection shee hath borne thee, hath [Page 186] brought into despaire: but cruell as thou art, thou hast left me in the hands of justice, from whence thou hast drawne me, onely to prolong my torment with my life. Ah disloyall, it is not now that thou diddest deceive mee: This Hippolita, whose praises in my hearing thou didst sing, perswading me that it was a counterfeit name under which thou hiddest mine, was the true subject of thy passion; and Sot that I am, I tooke it to mine advantage, and fedde my selfe with praises and affections which thou breathedst for another. What should I make account of any mans fidelitie? Let Heaven and Hell torment mee for ever with some new punishment (if they have any wherewith they have not afflicted mee) if ever I suffer my selfe to be overtaken again by any man. Thus without eyther comfort or counsaile the faire Calista lamen­ted.

Ambrisia who was present at these newes, was little lesse afflicted than shee, and knew not what reasons to use in her brothers excuse. Olinda, Otranta and Argire were all in the same astonishment, & as one hardly beleeveth that which is not seene, they could not imagine that Lisander in so small a time could be so much changed, or have fallen into so great a forgetfulnesse of himselfe, they all supposing that although he had lost the memory of his love, yet hee would alway pre­serve that of his honour, which did oblige him to justifie Ca­lista in verifying his owne innocency, and that necessarily some other great accident besides love had stayed him. Dori­las himselfe was of that opinion, although those who had re­ported this evill newes (not dreaming of the griefe which they brought with them) had told him for a certaintie of their knowledge, as being at the hunting where Lisander and Hippolita first saw themselves together. But Calista taking it at the worst, and thinking her selfe the most wretched wo­man that ever was, being ashamed ever to appeare in the world, or in the presence of her owne parents, or almost to see her selfe after such unsupportable miseries as shee had suf­fered, resolved upon the strongest designe that could fall into a womans thought: first she would neither see nor be seene of any person; and having commanded that they should [Page 169] leave her, that she might take her rest, she spent the day in sad and bitter solitarinesse, eating her heart in silence, and medi­tating deepely in those furies wherewith shee was troubled, and when night descending with sleep had wrapped all crea­tures else in their rest, she softly rose from her bed, and (with­out awaking any servant) shee went from her owne cham­ber, unto that wherein Lidian lay before his departure. There finding, amongst many other necessary implements which hee had left behinde him, a suite of greene Sattin laid thicke with silver, which he had but newly made, with a silke Gro­graine cloke of the same colour, and laced, in briefe, all things suteable, shee accommodateth her selfe therewith as well as she could; her legges shee hides with his Bootes, by her side she hangs his sword, and her long haire shee covered with a gray Bever, shadowed with a greene Feather; afterwards going unto the Stable (having first tooke all her money with her) she her selfe chose and made ready the best horse Dorilas had in the Stable, and getting upon him, went to the next way she met, in the horrour of a dark night, without know­ing what way shee should keepe, or what resolution shee should take.

Who will not now confesse unto mee, that love is a rage which troubleth the most settled braines, since that Calista (who lived in the opinion of a Lady so wise, that the death of her husband, the infamy of a prison, the losse of her wealth and reputation, the beleefe of her parents, or the extreme dan­ger of a shamefull death could not move) was shaken and carried from all her constancy by the first strokes of a false re­port? and more light, and more a woman than ever she had witnessed her selfe, she forgot the griefe which she had raised unto her parents, the scandall which shee had brought unto her house, her owne honour, which had beene (untill that time) so deare unto her, to expose her selfe unto the wide world for the uncertaine newes of a contrived untruth, and runne (as it is said) blindfoldly rather after her owne despaire than upon any well placed resolution.

The next morning Otranta and Dorilas would go see their daughter, and finding her gowne which shee had left in the [Page 170] place of Lidians habit; one tore her haire, the other his beard, both of them called themselves miserable, having children at such rate, thinking none happy but those who had none. Sorrow redoubleth in this house, and that which over night was but an ordinary evill, in the morning became extreme. In vaine is she sought after; for those who came backe with­out finding her, confirmed her losse unto her parents, and made their griefe almost past remedy.

On the other side, Adrastus seeing Lisanders love with Hip­polita did not kindle and burne (as hee hoped) at first, after many other subtilties, said unto his sonne, that now being old, the greatest contentment that Hypermestra and he could at these yeeres have, was to see him retire himselfe home un­to them; That hee had runne enough up and downe in the world, it was fit now to rest, and that it was high time for him to take the house to his care, and suffer his father and mother to divide the remainder of their yeeres in rest: not that he would abridge him of going to the Court, where hee knew well his honour did oblige him, to purge himselfe as well from Cloridon and Chrisantes deaths, whom he had kil­led, as also from Cle [...]ders, which (as he said) he not so much as thought; but that this might be done with time, and in the mean while he would be glad to have him make choice of such a party who might tye him to stay in the countrey, offering to assist him as a father, and as he had alwayes done in all places untill this very time; That it was told him he had some designe upon Hippolita, but for some considerations which were unknowne he had not yet witnessed it; That if it were out of any doubt that hee would not be willing, hee would cleare that doubt by telling then that he knew Hippo­lita to be of an illustrious family, of a vertuous condition, of a rare beauty, and that hee did not know any in the world whom hee would rather desire to be his daughter in law; That if peradventure hee feared hee should not be able to at­taine the end of his suit, and that this did keepe him from dis­covering his suit, hee did ingage himselfe to draw assurance from her, that hee should not lose his labour nor travaile in vaine in her service.

[Page 171] Lisander wondring at this speech, knew well that his fa­ther would ingage him to marry with Hippolita, whom hee would have purchased at any price (excepting Calista's los [...]e) but there was no duety of a sonne, nor reverence of a father could draw him from so happy a captivity as hers, to serve in any other place: yet not willing to lose the respect which he ought him, with obedience he answered, That the small stay he had made in the countrey, and the disorder of his af­faires, had kept him from thinking of marriage, not imagi­ning it fit to be suitor for a wife while hee had such criminall processes upon his hands, and such deadly quarrels: Never­thelesse seeing he did witnesse it to be his pleasure, he would alwaies conforme himselfe, especially for so faire a subject as Hippolita was, whom hee knew more worthy to be served, than he thought himselfe capable of serving her. But before hee did embarke himselfe, hee did entreat to suffer him to make one voyage unto the Court, to give silence unto the in­finite slanders which unworthily did injure his reputation; that being returned, he would unfallibly serve Hippolita, and would spend the rest of his dayes under the shadow of his house, if he pleased. Lisander (said Adrastus) you aske leave of mee to goe unto the Court, where you dare not appeare without evident danger of losing your selfe: you promise me to serve Hippolita at your returne, even as hee who pro­mised the grand Signeur to teach an Elephant to speake, and tooke so long a time, that it was not possible but either the grand Signeur, or the Elephant, or himselfe must be dead be­fore he were tyed to the accomplishment. I see how it is, you are bewitched in the love of Calista, who hath reduced you to the brink of your ruine, and whom you have in like man­ner drawne into like danger. You may doe what you please, but remember it shall never bee with my liking. By these words Lisander knew that his father understood little lesse of his businesse than himselfe. This said, Adrastus turned him­selfe away, and not expecting any reply, left Lisander in great perplexity. And although hee resolved rather to suffer any thing, than the losse of his Love, yet hee intended to search [Page 172] some meanes, whereby in keeping her, he might not lose his parents favour. At night, Adrastus being gone into the Gar­den to take a turne, rather to digest his thoughts than his sup­per, Lisander tooke occasion to speake unto his mother Hy­permestra, unto whom hee told the words which his Father had said unto him, and his answer (which she already knew from Adrastus) with the discontentment which thereby hee received, whereat hee was so grieved, that although hee did passionately desire to returne unto the Court, for the reasons which he had alledged unto his Father, yet he had rather suf­fer them and all extremities, than displease him; For this cause having more ripely considered of it, he resolved to obey him in whatsoever he should please to command: And because he had declared that his pleasure was he should serve Hippo­lita, he was determined (by his good will) the next morning to goe see her, which he humbly entreated Hypermestra to let him understand.

Hypermestra, glad that her sonne had better bethought himselfe, said, that she never hoped lesse from his education and good nature, and confirming him in this resolution, she that night advertised Adrastus, who was much rejoiced there­with. The next morning Lisander pompously cloathed him­selfe, as one who went to see his Mistresse, and taking with him onely his faithfull footman, his Flemming, and the Por­ter of the Castle at Paris, who was now become Groome of his chamber; he gallopped unto Hippolita, loaded with bles­sings of his Parents, who accompanied his journey with vowes, and thanked God that hee was so disposed to obey them: but the old folkes were much deceived, as wee shall shortly see, and thereby a strange effect of the power of love, which of the most loyall and the most absolute man (one of them in the world as Lisander was) made him a deceiver of his parents, betraying the hopes which hee had given them, and afflicted their age with as much griefe as was possible. Hee went therefore unto Hippolita, with whom hee pratled some small time of love, like a man who had more upon his lippes than in his heart, and charmed her so well, that repre­senting [Page 173] unto her the necessity of his affaires which did oblige him to returne unto the Court, he procured her to write this letter to his Father Adrastus.

This letter was no sooner dispatched, but Lisander tooke his leave of Hippolita, fearing lest his Father might come and stay him there: and determining to goe into Normandy to see Calista, he made haste, and ridde great journies; yet when he was at Bourdeaux hee heard of a magnifick tilting which was in England, where desiring to be, he changed his reso­lution, and sending the groome of his chamber with a letter unto Calista; hee embarked himselfe upon Garrowne, with his footman, directing his course for the river Thames. A­drastus having received Hippolita's letter, knew well that his sonne had gone beyond him, whereat he was much discon­tented. In the midst of which discontent, Lidian arrived at Mi­ramont, and not finding Lisander there, he addressed himselfe unto his Father, unto whom he told how Dorilas had obtai­ned his pardon, upon condition that hee presented himselfe within a moneth; That hee had expresly sent a Gentleman to advertise him so much, of whom, as also of Lisander, there was no newes. So that the moneth being past, the King had given his last order, by which, not presenting himselfe with­in three weekes, hee was to be declared guilty of the crimes whereof he was accused; That all France wondred at his not [Page 174] appearance in this needfull occasion, and did thinke him convicted; That his friends could not tell what to thinke, nor what to doe, but onely to present themselves at the last day, to fight with his accusers in his absence. But what a shame would that be (said he) in the sight of so great a King, that Lisanders friends should enter combate for his cause, he in the meane time being idle in the countrey? Adrastus more vexed at this last newes than at the former, knew not what answer to make unto Lidians speeches, but, that they had nei­ther heard of Gentleman, nor any man else that brought let­ter from Dorilas; that this was the first word hee had heard of his pardon: And as for Lisander, see what is written unto me, which I received but now; and saying this, hee shewed him Hippolita's letter. Lidian marvelling that there was no newes of the Gentleman, and sorry that he had missed of Li­sander, comforted himselfe with hearing that hee was gone unto the Court: and giving unto Adrastus and Hypermestra Ambrisia's letter (wherewith they were much rejoiced) hee stayed only one night at Miramont, departing the next mor­ning early, and determining to see Hippolita as he passed by, as well for the estimation was made of her, as to make a true discovery of Lisanders waies; hee found her, such as she was described unto him, exceeding faire: and having understood by her, that Lisander was gone towards Bourdeaux, and by easie journies, he thought if he did goe Poste, he might come thither as soone as Lisander: for which cause hee tooke his leave, being much satisfied with her fashion and behaviour, and presently tooke his way after his friend: Neverthelesse Lisander had made such haste, thinking his father was still at his heeles, that he was departed from Bourdeaux the very day that Lidian came thither; wherefore beleeving that it was not Gods will, out of some secret judgement which hee un­derstood not, that he should meet him, he resolved to ride no more after him, esteeming it unprofitable, seeing he travelled to bring him unto a place, whither (it was said) he was gone before. And hearing of the great tilting which was to bee in England, hee resolved to breake a Launce there: a considera­tion worthy of a rash man, rather than of Lidian, who knew [Page 175] well the great griefe wherein he had left his parents, neither would he ever have undertaken this journy, but through the assurance which was given him in so many severall places, that Lisander was gone unto the Court.

Let us now returne unto Calista, whom we have left wan­dring alone so long, and see what became of her. After that shee was gone from Clarevall, her horse which was accu­stomed to Paris way, brought her about breake of the day unto the gates of that great City; and then remembring the times which she formerly spent there, in the glory of her for­tune, and comparing it unto her present misery, her heart was likely to melt in her breast, and come forth at her eyes: Ah Calista (said shee) what meanest thou to doe? what de­signe hast thou taken? unto what extremity hath thy misfor­tune reduced thee? darest thou ever returne before the face of thy parents, having thus injured them? But coward as thou art, why speakest thou either of comming in thy parents sight, or of living in the world after this affront? No, no, Ca­lista, thou must dye once for all, and in dying, tye about the necke of thy ungratefull Lover the revenging furies of this death. In saying this, she entred into the city, covering with her cloake her face, which was all wet with teares, and went to seeke for a lodging toward the Temple, the most retired part of all Paris, lest she should be knowne. Having rested a little (if the griefe, which did continually racke her, may be called rest) she called her Hoste, and intreated him to get her a servant, who was an honest fellow, & could dresse a horse, and to cause an Armorer to come unto her. An Armorer, an­swered my Hoste, you shall presently have, but an honest servant is not found in a small time: yet I will get you such a one, for whom assurance shall be given: Saying this, he cau­sed an Armorer to be sent for, of whom shee bespake an ar­mour complete, all blacke, with a devise of a wheele, like unto one of those used in watring of gardens, incompassed with water-pots, some full and others empty: his word was Los llenos de dolar ylos vazios de Speransa, and entreated him to make it as speedily as was possible. Now shee knew the combate which the King had granted unto Lucidan, in case [Page 176] Lisander did not appeare within three weeks, or some other for him: which she beleeving he would not do, considering the ingagement of his new love, did resolve to fight with him for Lisander, whom she accounted her enemy, certainly deter­mining to die in the fight, and cause therby sorrow and griefe unto Lucidan for killing of her, in thinking to kill Lisander, and make Lisander repent that ever he had left her, seeing that al­though he had despised her, and betrayed her, yet she would lose her life for him: All being fantasticke passions of a wo­man, blinded with love and jealousie.

Now let us make a steppe into great Britaine, waiting for the tilting day. We left Lisander on his way thither, and Li­dian following him shortly after: But to relate all things in their order: Lisander being come unto London, keeping himselfe secret, caused Armes to be made for him of an ashie colour, which hidde the sparkles of a lively fire, spotted with Flower-de-luces of silver, his device was a Love tied to a pillar in the middle of a faggot, kindled by a Lady, the word was, Alwayes constant: his Feather was Gree de liu and white, his Coate of Armes and caparison of his horse Gris de liu, em­broidered with silver. Lidian, comming the next day to the towne, caused Armes to bee made of Azure colour, spotted with starres of gold without number: his Device was a Love, holding a Dart in the mouth, an Olive branch in the hand, and having a goose at his feete, holding a stone in the bill: the word was Leale & secreto, a devise which he had made in the time when Clarangeus his jealousie made him love (no lesse secretly than faithfully) his Lady Olinda: His feather was yellow and blew, his coate armour and the ca­parison of his horse was of blew Velvet embroidered with gold. The tilting was begunne before the Armes of our Knights could bee finished: The Tourney was in this man­ner, with Launces having steeled and sharpned heads, and in open field, hee who was overthrowne at the tilting, might not demand the combate with the sword, but if they both fell unto the ground, or that after the breaking of three launces they remained unhorsed, it was granted them: If it hapned the defendants were overthrown by the assailants, [Page 177] the victorious assailants must take the place of the vanquisht defendants to the end of the Tourney, which was to con­tinue three dayes. The Prize of the Tourney was a sword, which King Arthur had sometime worne, for the Knight who should be victor, and a Carquanet of great Pearle for his Mistresse. Foure defendants, Brittaines, descended in straight line from the famous Knights errants of the Round Table, were come within the lists of the field in pompous and mag­nificke shew: The first had for his device, A Sunne rising in the East over the toppe of a mountaine, with this word, Sin occaso. Foure divers Engines rowled after them by an admi­rable art: The first was full of Musitians, who sung these Verses in passing before the Scaffold where the King and the Ladies sate.

The second Engine followed after, with the second De­fendant, carrying a Globe under a Love, which hee pierced thorow many wayes with his arrowes, with this Motto, Conservat cuncta Cupido. Then followed the third Engine, wherin was represented the history of the lame god Thermes, who though hee would never yeeld unto Jupiter, now fol­lowed the triumphing Chariot of Love, loaden with iron a­mong the slaves of his tyranny: The Motto was, Cedere nolo Jovi, cedere cogor amori. In the last Engine, marching with the last Defendant, was carried the same God Thermes, over­throwne with his heeles upwards by a stroke with a Lance, with these two words, Cedit & cecidit, together with a Con­sort of Musicke singing these Verses.

Shortly after these foure Knights had placed themselves in the lists, foure brave Turkes entred into the field, having their Dolimans upon their Armes, their Turbants upon their heads, their Launces in their hands, and their Cemeters hang­ing by their sides, after thier manner. Their device was the Crescent of Silver, which serveth them as an ordinary marke without any word. After they had made a turne about the lists, and placed themselves opposite unto the defendants, all eight ran one against another; their Launces couched, with their sharpe steele points, they gave full in the visers of each others Helme, the staves flew in pieces, and the foure Turkes were throwne unto the ground at this first course, not with­out pleasure and laughter unto the English: about forty o­ther Assailants were overthrowne (to their comfort) after them, the Defendants not so much as losing a stirrop. So all that day the English continued vanquishers, and so went tri­umphing out of the field. The next morning, so soone as the Defendants had taken their places, two strange Knights en­tred at the other end of the lists, whose onely countenances promised extraordinary valour: The one had redde Armes full of flames of gold, a redde Feather; the caparison of his Horse crimsin velvet embroydered with flames of gold: for his device he had a Love, bearing a Globe, with this word, Piufort d'atlante. The other was in greene Armour, engra­ven with silver, his feather greene, his caparison greene vel­vet embroydered with silver; his device was a Love, which overthrew a measure of corne, with this word, Sin mesura. So soone as the Defendants had seene them take their places, two of the foure opposed themselves, and couching their Launces, came one against another with such grace, and met vvith such force, that their staves breaking to their hands, the [Page 180] two defendants fell to the ground, and the strangers perfe­cted their careere without moving, to the great admiration of the beholders. The two defendants remaining, seeing their companions overthrowne, endevoured to revenge them, spurring against the assailants, & the assailants against them, made the bravest encounter that had beene seene: but never­thelesse the defendants were overthrown, leaving their place to the strangers, who from being assailants (as they were at first) now became defendants. All those who presented them­selves that day, were overthrowne with much lesse resistance than the first; And the night comming, giving an end both unto the Joust, and the day, the strange Knights went victori­ous out of the field, with the sound of trumpets, and the like solemnity that had accompanied the Vanquishers the first day. The King of great Brittaine, desirous to know these Champions, sent to learne their names, and of what country they were; but they humbly be sought his Majesty to pardon them, if they shewed any unwillingnesse to make themselves knowne untill the end of the Tournament, which being fi­nished, they would not faile to offer their most humble ser­vice to him.

All this was past before Lisander could recover his Armes, whereat hee was desperately inraged: but in the end, having put them on the third day, hee was the first in the list, with such a brave behaviour, upon that incomparable Horse which he had from Cloridon, that hee gave cause of admirati­on to all the Assistants. Those who had formerly beheld the others, having their eyes now fixed upon him, would not vouchsafe to looke upon the other. The defendants seeing him come, judged by his countenance that he would cut them out more worke than all the other; and therefore (ei­ther of them making choice of a strong Launce) they prepa­red themselves to receive him: Hee in greene armour advan­ced himselfe first, and as a whirle-winde, in the middle of the course met him, who fell upon him as a tempest; their Laun­ces breaking upon the visers of their Helmes, flew into splin­ters, & the Knights perfected their career without any advan­tage, which had not hapned since the beginning. Having ta­ken [Page 181] new Launces, they ranne the second time, with more force and fury than they did the first. The bankes of the ri­ver Thames sounded with the blowes, and their cleer waters were troubled. Lisander lost a stirrop, and bended towards his crupper, but the greene Knight was throwne unto the ground so violently, that he had much adoe to rise, whereat a great cry was raised by the people. The Knight in the redde Armes, desirous to revenge his shame, in whose compa­ny hee had gotten so much honour, fiercely spurres a­gainst Lisander, who came against him like a Torrent. Amongst all the Assistants there was an universall silence, without speaking, without moving, or without stirring their eyes, which were fixed upon the Combatants: and by the Knights there was a noise made, and a dust raised under their horses, which darkned the aire, & made the earth trem­ble: The Knights met with equall violence, their Launces failed not to hit right, and to breake unto their hands, and they passed by without being stirred in their seates, not onely in the first encounter, but in the second and third course, with admiration (through the novelty of the act) doubling in the mindes of all the beholders. When they had runne their courses, they drew out their swords, and if before they had witnessed their force and nimblenes in the Jousting, they did no lesse in the combat. Lisander provoked that a man should breake three Launces against him, and yet withstand him, so violently strooke him upon the head, and upon every part of the body, that at every blow hee brought away a peece of his Armour, with great abundance of sparkles of fire: The other who saw himselfe handled so rudely, kindled his courage out of shame and despite, and his force encreasing with his rage, doubling strength upon strength, and blow upon blow, hee covered the ground with peeces of Lisanders Vambrases and Tasses. Horrour seized upon the mindes of the beholders, which made their faces looke pale, and the Combatants in these fearefull motions, endevour to shew themselves grea­ter and stronger than two men can bee: Two houres this cruell combate lasted, without any rest taken betweene them, and their horses were couered with dust and sweat all [Page 182] over their bodies, and blood in many places (although pro­ceeding but from sleight wounds) when Lisander feeling his adversaries forces begin to faile, rained backe a steppe or two, and said thus unto him: Knight, your valour is equall (at the least, but I have more Fortune; seeing that she is contrary un­to you, and favourable unto me, content your selfe with that proofe which you have witnessed both of your noble cou­rage and strength: our combate is not to death, and I should be sorry, that so brave and valiant a Gentleman should lose his life, which in all places else I would preserve with the hazzard of mine owne. Willingly yeeld what you cannot have by force, and bee not sorrowfull that you give place ra­ther to fortune than unto vertue. Whatsoever you are (an­swered the other) you have a great deale of courtesie, but no lesse presumption, to thinke to oblige mee to that by your tongue, unto which you cannot reduce mee by your sword. And not to flatter you long in this vaine hope, doe not thinke that I will quit the honour of this Tourney but with my life, nor my life without dearely selling it. I thought to doe you a pleasure (replied Lisander) but seeing my courtesie offends you, wee will speake of it no more. Then began they with more fury and violence than before, and by the cruelty of this second charge, they wiped away the astonishment of the first: But in little time it was plainely seene, that the Knight of the redde Armes grew heavie, and although he did his ut­termost endeavour, and witnessed as much courage and va­lour as his adversary; yet his nimblenesse began to faile with his strength, and Lisanders valour appearing advantageable above his, made it seene that the victory (after it had hung in an equall ballance untill then) together with the glory of the combate (the Prize) would fall unto him: Which the King seeing, and not willing that the victory should bee bloodied with the death of so good a Knight, nor the feast fouled with so tragicke an action, commanded them to bee separated by the Judges, appointing two nevv prizes besides the first: The one for the foure defendants, vvhich had vanquished the first day; and the second for the other two, leaving the third for Lisander, if he were not vanquished before night by some o­ther, [Page 183] which was thought impossible.

Neverthelesse contrary to every bodies opinion (that after the proofe of such invincible valour no man durst oppose so strong an adversary) a strange Knight entred into the place, who by the richnesse of his Arms, the goodnesse of his horse, and the comely presence of his person, renewed againe the attention and silence in all the multitude: his Armes were azure with starres of gold. Now you must understand that this was Lidian, who comming last to London, could not get his Armour finished before toward the end of the last day, whereat he had suffered great impatience▪ Lisander wal­ked on the other side of the field, newly come from the Judges, who had parted him from the Knight with the red Armes, and had left him alone defendant: When Lidian saw him, he went softly unto him, where perceiving his Armour broken, his Horse in a sweat, and himselfe in blood issuing from sleight wounds, hee spake in this manner unto him, Knight, it is my great griefe that fortune hath occasioned me any fighting with you this day, you but newly comming out of a great fight, which I see you have made, and I fresh, having done nothing: But, if it please you to joine unto my prayer, wee will humbly entreat the King to deferre it unto another time, when you may have more meanes to defend your selfe, and I more glory in assaulting you. Knight (an­swered Lisander) your courtesie binds me to esteeme of your valour, for they ordinarily follow one the other, as the sha­dow doth the body; and hardly shall you finde a courteous man who is not valiant, or a valiant man who is not courte­ous. But I thanke God, I am not in so weake a plight that I should bee constrained to receive your advice, neither doe I thinke it fit to entreat the King to revoke a generall law for two particular men; wherefore, if you please, we will obey the law of the Tourney, and presently end the controversie of the prize, which fortune hath taken from so many, to give together with the victory of this day, unto one of us twaine. Be it as you please (replied Lidian) but I wish you lesse wea­ried than you are, that I might enter with lesse advantage: Saying this, hee turned his horse, and being gone a space suf­ficient [Page 184] for his Careere, hee came against Lisander with that fiercenesse, that their staves breaking into shivers, they met horses and bodies with such extreme force, that they went all unto the ground: Lisanders good horse, which had runne so many courses, and suffered so long and so violent a combat, was neverthelesse so vigorous, that hee presently rose againe, scarcely setting his crupper unto the ground, and Lisander had also rose with him, or rather had not fallen; for he lost not his saddle, but the girths (with the strength of the blow) brake and left the saddle between his legges, whereat all the people cryed Lucifer was fallen: Lidian hee was in worse plight, for his horse tumbled upon one side, and he of the other so asto­nished, that Lisander was already with his sword in his hand, before hee was come againe to himselfe; yet hee got up, and both of them kindled with despite and shame, began the fiercest combate that had beene seene during the Tourney, Lisander being as fresh as if hee had not struck one stroke all the day. Lidian could not thinke that he was any other than a Devill, or else inchanted, he seemed so unfatigable in his Armes; and all the Assistants, who had seene him endure so long with so much violence, thought as much: But Lisan­der thinking that hee had to doe with English, could not suf­ficiently admire the English Knights bounty, and did beleeve that what had beene said of the Knights of the Round Table, was nothing in respect of the truth, having never in his life received such violent encounters as of those three Knights, whom he did thinke to be issued from their blood. The red Knight, and the greene Knight were both of them retired up­on one side, no lesse angry against Lisander, than wondring at his prowesse; and admiring also Lidians, could not ima­gine who those Knights should be, who with so much force and nimblenesse debated for the Prize which they had lost. In the meane time our two Combatants laid such blowes one upon the other, as if it had beene two hammers upon an Anvill: the iron made a horrible noise upon their Armour, yet neither of them was astonished at their owne danger, wherewith others were amazed. Lisander, seeing the day passe, and fearing, the night comming, they should depart the [Page 185] field with equall honour, redoubled his strokes upon his ad­versary, and made him feele them more heavie, and more speedy than before. Lidian, finding that his adversary was fiercer in his strokes, and that his force seemed to encrease with his labour; used his utmost power, striketh, thrusteth, presseth him on all sides: they were like waves against a rocke which could not be moved. In the meane time the Sun (it may be) frighted with the horriblenesse of this combate, hid himself in the sea, astonishing the Nymphs with relating the wonders which he saw in this Tourney. Then Lisander, despiting at Lidians long resistance, gave him so violent a thrust upon the Gorget, that piercing both Gorget and Curas it entred even unto the skin, and doubling a stroke upon the top of his Helmet, made him fall with his hands and knees unto the ground, and the Caske off from his head.

So soone as the two Knights in the red and green armours saw Lidian barefaced without his caske, they knew him, and thinking that Lisander would make use of that advan­tage, they put themselves betweene to hinder him, at the in­stant that Lidian rose againe. But Lisander knowing him al­so, and being as it were sorry for the victory, in respect he had handled him so roughly, desired rather to lose the prize of the Tourney, than to discover himselfe, thinking that in his ab­sence it could not be judged but unto Lidian, who had last fought for it; wherefore in putting up his sword, he said unto him, Knight, I ought to have knowne you by your valour, before I saw your face, and willingly quitted that unto you, which I am constrained unto by your victory: enjoy there­fore peaceably the prize of your vertue, which I honour, and beleeve, that I have both sorrow for opposing you, and a great desire to serve you. This said, without staying for an answer from Lidian, who was almost ravished at this exces­sive courtesie, he quickly got upon his horse, and turned him­selfe to be gone: but Lidian running after him, stayed him by his coate armour, saying unto him, God forbid, Sir, that you should vanquish me both in courtesie and strength, or that I should triumph for a victory due unto you; for Gods sake doe me not this shame, in refusing your owne glory. While [Page 186] they were in these termes, the Judges of the field came, and all the multitude desiring to know what passed between them, came round about, so that Lisander could not passe, where­fore alighting from his horse, I protest (saith he) against the violence you doe me, and that I doe onely stay to accompany you in your triumph, and in taking off his Caske made him­selfe knowne. It is not possible to expresse Lidians joy and admiration: Ah brother, said he, will you thus hide your selfe from me who honour you as I doe? Will you flye from him who searcheth you over the world? With these words Lidi­an held him fast embraced, when the other two Knights, who in the beginning were approached unto them, pulling off their Helmets, made themselves knowne for Berontus and Alcidon, who embracing somtime the one, and somtime the other, the contentment and wonder of this happy mee­ting doubled. The Judges with much labour interrupting their embracings, had them all foure unto the King, who un­willing to frustrate Lisander of the prize due unto his vertue, gave him a sword by the Prince of Wales, and a rich collar by the Princesse: and willing also to acknowledge Lidians valour, as also Alcidons and Berontus, sent them three armors of an excellent goodnesse, with three of the best Horses in his stable. As for the foure English which had vanquished the first day, he also, according to the great bounty of his minde, richly rewarded them: But knowing that Lisander was in some disfavour in the Court of France, and desiring to draw unto his service a man of his eminent valour, offered him a pension of a thousand pounds sterling; yet Lisander refused his offer as well as hee had done the Arch-Dukes, excusing him upon the same reasons which hee had done unto his Highnesse. After being brought with triumph to the Palace with the King, they past away the evening amongst the La­dies of great Brittaine, who for beauty and noble courtesie beare away the prize from all the Ladies in the world. Lidian telling Lisander the necessity of his affaires, and how much hee was desired in France, they tooke their leave of the King and Queen that night, and generally of all the Court, leaving both a great sorrow for their departure, & an incomparable [Page 187] reputation of their valour. The next morning rising early, they went all from the Court, and imbarking themselves at the neerest port, they set saile for Callis: and although by all to­kens they were threatned with a violent storme, yet Lisanders impatience was so great, that whatsoever the Mariners said, and what token soever of foule weather they marked, hee would not abide untill it was past. We will leave them pas­sing the straight betweene England and France, and returne unto Calista, who having got armour some ten dayes before the three weekes were expired which were given unto Li­sander, one evening armed her selfe from head unto foot, and onely with one Lackey which her Hoste had procured unto her, she rid from Paris to lye at Suren, from whence the next morning shee sent a letter of challenge unto Lucidan, of this substance.

Calista having dispatched this letter, and instructed her Lackey of his name and lodging unto whom he was to deli­ver it, all armed mounted on horseback, and accompanying him about a mile, staied in the middle of a great field, which is betweene Suren and an Abby of religious women called Longchampe, whither she commanded him to come to her, [Page 188] framing in the meane time such discourses in her minde, which none but she onely could speake. The Lackey no lesse diligent than faithfull, and although he knew not his Ma­ster, yet made such haste, that hee tooke Lucidan in his bedde, where hee was rather musing upon Calista's beauty, and of her losse which hee had heard of, than of such newes; which having received, he was much troubled, not onely to know who this Knight should be (so good a friend unto Lisander) who would expose his life for his honour, but also to resolve how to content him; for it troubled him much to refuse him, and on the other side he thought (as it was true) that a combat being granted at his instance, and appointed by the King, he should much offend his Majesty if hee should enter into a private one, which was forbidden by the lawes: wherefore after a long debate in his minde, ballancing some­times upon one side, and then upon another, he answered in this manner.

Lucidan having given the Lackey this answer, entred into a deepe imagination who this Knight should bee, who not respecting the Kings displeasure, defied him with so much daring; sometimes hee thought it was Lidian, who would not discover himselfe in respect of the agreement betweene them, and sometimes hee thought it was Lisander himselfe, who would prevent the time appointed, and make a private duell of a combate which ought to be publicke. But Calista, finding by his answer that fortune constrained her to keepe her life, which shee would so willingly lose; confirmed her selfe more than ever in her despaire, and not knowing where to spend the eight dayes which with so much sorrow she had left to see the light of the Sunne, determined to retire her selfe unto Longchampe amongst the religious women untill the day of the combate, cursing Lucidan that he had not ac­cepted this challenge, although that she greatly (in her heart) commended his discretion, who wanted neither courage nor judgement in his young yeares▪ As shee was going to­wards Longchampe, having already given her helmet unto her Lackey, she saw upon the way towards Paris a man tra­velling in great haste: presently she had a conceit to go neare him, which shee no sooner thought but did, and instantly knew him, although hee were in other fashion than when shee last saw him. It was the Porter who had delivered her out of the Castle at Paris, whom Lisander had sent into Nor­mandy unto her (as wee have formerly said) then when hee went into England: Hee came at this time from Bellaire, where not finding Calista, hee went to Paris, where he was told he should heare of her at Olinda's. When he saw Calista in Armour he knew her not, but she (not knowing that hee dwelt with Lisander) called him by his name, and using him with a great deale of courtesie, offered to acknowledge [Page 190] with all her power the service which he had done her. The Porter (astonished both with wonder and joy, to finde her whom hee sought for, when hee least looked for it, as also at her being armed) made her also marvell more, when he gave her Lisanders letter; her lively colour blushed in her cheekes, and fledde away incontinently: her knees trembled, and her horse bridle fell out of her hands, and likely herselfe also to fall unto the ground, strucken with astonishment at so unho­ped for newes, and with the griefe which the memory of Li­sander made her feele. In the end going into a wood hard by, shee gave her horse unto her footman, commanding him to walk him, and lying along under a tree upon the fresh grasse, she opened her enemies (as she thought) letter, wherein she found these words.

Ah disloyall creature (said shee in reading this letter) with what cunning doest thou disguise the perfidiousnesse of thy heart? these words, her deep sighes, and warme teares, which like great pearles rowled over the roses of her cheekes, easily let the Porter know, that there was jealousie in her passion, which made him say unto her, I am sorry, Madam, that I have brought you such ill newes to afflict you, and doe no lesse wonder why Lisander should use mee in this businesse, seeing that next after God, there is nothing in the world which I doe reverence so much as your image. Are you be­longing to Lisander, said she? Yea, Madam, answered he, ever since he delivered me out of the hands of the Marshals men, who were carrying mee to Paris, where without his helpe I should have beene made a pitifull spectacle. Then he told how Lisander had delivered him (as you have heard.) Friend (replied Calista) you serve a man who of all men in the world doth best acknowledge services done unto him, and who doth more for all them who deserve of him. I would to God, he were as good a servant as he will be a good Master, but unto me he is the vilest Traytor that ever was: God for­give him, hee hath beene the losse of mine honour, out of the love which hee hath borne mee, and by his perfidiousnesse hee will also be the losse of my life. Madam, said the Por­ter, doe not so much wrong unto Lisanders vertue, in depri­ving your selfe of the greatest glory that a Lady of your quali­ty can have in this life, which is to bee served and adored by the most accomplisht Knight in the world. Then Calista said unto him, come hither, and (if thou also hast not lost that affection which heretofore thou hast witnessed unto me, and if from being faithfull as thou wert, by being conversant with thy Master, thou art not become so perfidious as he) let mee conjure thee by the light of the Sunne, and by the first causer thereof, to tell me the truth: Is is not the greatest trea­son that can bee in Lisander, not alone to abuse mee with so [Page 192] many false protestations, as he hath done, but now to write me letters of love, whilest he in his owne countrey serveth and loveth a new Amazon called Hippolita? It is true (an­swered the Porter) he hath seene this Hippolita, and is pressed to serve her by all the remonstrances and commandements which his parents may lay upon him: But I wish the ground may open under my feet, and swallow me up before you, if hee hath not left the countrey, fearing hee should bee constrained to sue unto her, and is now gone into England to a Tournament which is held there, with an intent to come from thence hither: From whence hee will never re­turne into Gascoigne untill Hippalita bee married, although next unto your beauty (which surpasseth all those of your sexe) there is none who equals her.

Although Calista were well satisfied with these newes, yet could she not put off the desire which shee had to dye, think­ing that though Lisander were innocent of the crime of infi­delity, hee was guilty of suspition, which had inforced her to this discontented and unseemely course, after which there was no joy left her to live, or bee seene in the world; and willingly would she have confined her selfe within the cloi­sters of Longchampe with the religious women of that Ab­bey, but that she thought she should not be received, neither would shee at any hand present her selfe in the habite which now shee wore; together also that not being able to suffer the condition of a free life being a Mistresse, how was it possible for her to endure the strictnesse of a religious obedi­ence? All these things considered in her minde, she confir­med her selfe in her first resolution of fighting with Lucidan, and in dying by his hands in the sight of all the world, re­venge her selfe of Lisander, and end her ill fortune, which had prosecuted her with that outrage: wherefore shee said unto the Porter, shee would have him stay a while with her, that hee might witnesse unto Lisander her actions, and that after shee would give him an answer. So retiring unto Long­champe, she accommodated her selfe as well as she could in the house of a poore Peasant adjoyning unto the Abbey, where having left her horse and her armour, after dinner she [Page 193] went to see the religious women, with whom she not onely spent this day, but eight more, which were remaining of the three weekes granted unto Lisander.

In the meane time Dorilas seeing the day for the combate granted unto Lidian approach, and hearing no newes of Lisander, and lesse of Lidian, whom hee had sent unto the o­ther, determined in their absence to present himselfe, not so much for love unto Lisander, against whom he was extreme­ly angry by reason of Calista's losse, as because he had already ingaged himself by his overture made before the King; wher­fore going from Clarvall unto Paris, without acquainting a­ny body with his designe, hee caused blacke armes to bee made, taking for his device a great greene oake, shaken with two contrary windes; his Motto was, Tanto pui fermo quanto pui scosso, whereby he would shew, that the adversities wher­with he was assailed of late, had rather confirmed than sha­ken the constancy of his heart. On the other part, Adrastus understanding by Lidian how Lisanders affaires stood, and willing to shew the youthfulnesse of his courage in his old yeeres, tooke his way in poste unto the Court immediately after Lidians departure, where not finding Lisander, as he ve­rily thought he should, determined to enter into the combat for him against Lucidan: and for this cause he made himselfe gray armour, almost of an Iron colour, in which for his de­vice he had an Eagle encompassed with a cloud full of light­ning and thunder, with this word in Spanish, Ni Matarme, ni Spantarme; By which hee would give to understand, that all his and his sonnes enemies did neither feare him nor over­come him. So the appointed time for the combate being come, by three severall wayes there entred into the Horse-market, which was the royall place by the King ordained for battailes to be fought, Adrastus, Dorilas, and Calista, all com­pletely armed, & mounted upon good horses, not one know­ing of the others enterprise. Of the other side of the field en­tred Lucidan with the sound of Trumpets, mounted upon a brave horse, with an engraven Armour, having a Cupid for his device, who held armes in his right hand, and wings in his left, with this word, Ardito & presto, thereby willing to [Page 194] signifie that he was no lesse valiant than ready, as well in his love as in armes. Shortly after came the King, with many Princes of the blood, Peeres of France, and officers of the Crowne, whom he had made Judges of the combate, accor­ding unto the ancient lawes and customes of the kingdome.

When he was in his seate, the three unknowne Knights having humbled themselves unto his Majesty, without dis­covering their faces, remonstrated unto him that they were there, every one in particular to maintaine Lisanders honour, not onely against Lucidan, but against all others who should accuse him of disloyaltie: Neverthelesse meeting all three with one intent, without knowing either of others designe, they humbly entreated that they three might bee suffered to fight against three others all together, and that in this respect Lucidan might bee permitted to chuse three of his friends to second him in this quarrell: but he unwilling to have either second or third, and offering rather to fight with all three one after another, so long as his life should last; the King ap­pointed them to draw lots, which of them should fight first; after whose combate, were hee either overcome or conque­rour, the other two should not be received to make any fur­ther quarrell concerning Lisanders innocency; thinking the one unnecessary, and the other unreasonable, because if Luci­dan were vanquished, Lisander remained acquitted, and if he did overcome, the other should remaine culpable: besides, it were not just, that he should expose himselfe unto a second combate being wearie, and it may be wounded, against an­other fresh and without hurt. This equall sentence was ne­verthelesse grievous unto the strange Knights, who were e­very one (apart by himselfe) afraid to be dsifavoured by the lot, which (although they were three) yet could favour but one: but the sorrowfullest of all was Calista, who distrusting her fortune, did beleeve she should never receive so much fa­vour as to dye in this combate, but that shee should be still reserved unto more misfortunes. She had with her the Por­ter of whom we have spoken, unto whom a little before she had given the answere which shee sent unto Lisander, com­manding him onely to waite the event of this day, that hee [Page 195] might report it unto Lisander; but if shee had knowne that the two Knights which contended with her about fighting with Lucidan, had beene the one Adrastus and the other Do­rilas, the one Lisanders father, and the other hers, and also if Dorilas had knowne that she had beene his daughter Calista, without doubt their trouble (although extreame) would have beene much greater. When the lots should be drawne to see which of the three strangers should fight with Lucidan, their names were demanded, which they being unwilling to declare, Adrastus first answered, that he was called the Knight of the Eagle, Dorilas called himselfe the Knight of the Oake, and Calista (as wee said before) having a wheele invironed with buckets for her device, named her selfe the Knight of the Buckets. Three Billets were made with their three names, which were all put into a caske: and as a child (who was appointed to draw) was putting in his hand, there came in a fourth knight who stayed the drawing. Who this knight was, we will speake of in another place: But now we must returne unto Lisander, the principall subject of this story. We left him floating betweene Dover and Callis, with his three companions in Armes: The Sea was then troubled with winde, whereby the waves in bignesse being doubled, in that little space they ran a dangerous fortune. At the beginning they thought it was but a blast, which as short as violent would turne into faire weather: but the skie armed with lightning, and darkened with clouds, which brake amongst them into violent raine and fearefull thunder, and the blasts of this winde (which in the darkenesse of this storme lifted them upon the waters, sometimes unto the starres, and some­times opening the waves in the middle, did with horrour throw them into the bottome) made them repent their rashnes in despising the storme, hoping of saving themselves. The pale Pilote having for a time resisted this fortune, cau­sing all the sailes to bee strucken, and stirring the helme as he saw occasion, was constrained to abandon that also, seeing by reason of the noise which continually came from the thunder, the windes, the waters, the cryes and the confusion which was through all the ship, hee was not able to com­mand, [Page 196] nor the Mariners able to obey. Lisander seeing both steerage and tackle forsaken, and the sailes in disorder, expe­cting every minute to bee swallowed by the waves, which already filled the ship, endevoured to raise their courages; which hee so well effected, that every one began to stand to his worke, some to the helme, some to the tackles, some to pumpe out the water which came into the ship: But seeing that the Patron (judging the ship lost) had lept into the skiffe with an intent to save himselfe therein, hee leaps after him with his sword in his hand, and setting it at his throat, threat­neth him with a speedy death, if hee did not returne into the ship, and take upon him the guiding of the same. The Patron seeing death present it selfe unto him on both sides, desiring rather to receive it by the waves than by iron, promised to o­bey him; but as hee was going to returne into the shippe, a huge roaring wave strucke against the skiffe with such vio­lence, that breaking the cords wherewith it was held, it was presently driven away, that they in the ship could never more set eye upon it. He who was able to expresse Lisanders griefe, was no bad Orator: he was ready then to effect what he had threatned against the Pilot, and if he had not used his skill, I know not what hee would have done; but his friends sor­row was no lesse, beleeving certainly that he was cast away, so suddenly they had lost the sight of the skiffe amongst the waves.

After this unhappy accident, Neptune (as satisfied with this revenge, & contented to have punished those audacious per­sons, who had rashly contemned his power, by Lisanders losse) shewed himselfe lesse terrible, by little and little appea­sing the fearefull motions of his Empire. The skie waxed cleere▪ the sea calme, and the windes having strove all day a­gainst the waves, now retired into their dennes, leaving in some rest the miserable ship, who all broken with the tem­pest, in the end came to Callis, having beene a whole sum­mers day, making a three houres voyage with a good wind. Then did Lidian, Alcidon, and Berontus (who now had alte­red his opinion conceived against him for his brothers death) renew their complaints for Lisanders losse, especially [Page 197] when they saw his Armes, his Horse, his rich Sword, and the collar which hee had gained at the tilting, resolving to keepe them safe untill they could heare more certain newes of him, and staying only one night at Callis, the next morning very early they tooke their way towards Paris, hoping to be there at the day of Lucidans combate, with whom every one of them had a particular designe to fight in Lisanders quarrell: who then being in the skiffe alone with the Pilot ran a for­tune all that day, and the next night tossed upon the waves at the pleasure of the windes, through the darknesse of the night, in the greatest misery that ever he had seene. The day following, the light appearing, the aire being cleere and the sea quiet, they were carried upon an Iland which the Pilot knew to be Gersey, where landing with great danger, in a place amongst cragged and desert rocks rarely frequented by any man, they found a young Hermite, who (not seeing them) complained so loud, that they easily heard all his lamentati­ons, which you shall understand in order after we have rela­ted the memorable combate which about that time was fought in the most famous City, and before the greatest King in the world.

We left three Knights pretending all to fight with Lucidan, with great impatience expecting him whom fortune should chuse for that purpose, when a fourth entring into the field, stayed the childes hand, as he would have drawne the lot out of the Caske: This Knight was mounted upon a Spanish Jennet as white as milke, his Armes also were white, having for his device a naked Cupid, which passed through Pikes, Launces, Swords and Darts, with this word, Spresoogin ris­chio, by which hee made knowne that there was no danger which hee did not despise to follow his end. After hee had humbled himselfe before the King, without discovering himselfe more than any of the others, he made it known un­to him, that having more interest in this combate than any of those who had presented themselves, he required, if not to be preferred, at the least to be put to the casting of lots with the rest; which being granted him, and having called his name Lisanders Knight, it was put into the Caske with the [Page 198] other, where having beene shaken together, every one expe­cted with great unquietnesse unto whom fortune would di­spose the battell. It was wondred at by all when the childe drew forth the Knight named Lisanders Knight, to the ex­treme griefe and sorrow of the other three, whom the Judges causing to depart the field, and having equally (for advantage of some) placed the combatants, the Trumpets gave the to­ken of the battell, and the Knights spurring their horses and couching their staves, met with such fury, that their launces breaking; flew into pieces, and their horses astonished with the blow, set their cruppers unto the ground, from whence with bridle and spurre being raised, they bravely perfected their careere without advantage; and setting their hands un­to their swords, began a combate no lesse strange for the no­velty, than admirable for the combatants valour. Lucidan, who was esteemed (and justly) one of the best Knights in France (and consequently of the world) striking his adver­sary sometimes with the edge, and somtimes with the point, made him bend sometime to his horse necke, and sometime backe upon the crupper. The other who gave not place un­to him, pressing upon him with strokes like a fury, made him also swerve sometimes upon one side, then upon the other, with the gesture and motions of a man falling unto the ground: yet he held firme, and when he was thought to fall, he recovered himselfe with more vigour and strength, redu­cing his adversary to many great extremities. Thus the com­bate, without advantage, was continued the space of two houres before they stayed to breathe: while they thus rested themselves, they looked one upon another through their vi­sers in great fury, themselves being beheld by all the assistants in great admiration, who expected the end, uncertaine and doubtfull unto which of them the victory would happen. But above all, the faire Calista, D [...]rilas her father, and Adrastus, were in great paine, not knowing who hee was that so vali­antly maintained the justice of Lisanders cause. It was about foure of the clock in the afternoone, when three unknowne Knights entring into the field, and passing through all the multitude, went to doe their reverence to the King, of [Page 199] whom one of them craving leave to speake, said in this manner (a generall silence being amongst the multitude, and a generall attention unto his words, out of curiosity of the novelty) Sir, these two Knights who are here fighting, have entred into this combate rather out of passion, the one desiring to revenge his kinsmans death, the other to serve his friend, than out of any certaine reason which they have; both of them grounding their actions upon the good opini­on which they have of those for whom they are armed. There is none in France but my selfe and one Knight more (who I thinke is not here now) that can cleere your Majesty in this action, and maintaine unto Lucidan with certainty, that Lisander killed Chrisantes and Cloridon like a valiant Gentleman: for I knew it from Chrisantes himselfe, who told it unto me at his death, being gone out with Leon (who is the absent Knight of whom I spake) to part them, and ha­ving found him even upon the point of death, with the losse of his arme, he had onely the power to tell me succinctly the combate, and afterwards gave up the ghost, commending his enemies vertue, and blaming Cloridons passion and their evill cause, for which both of them lost their lives: and of this, Sir, Leon wheresoever he is to be found, will be my wit­nesse, and many other persons unto whom the very same day I made the relation, although I was not then, nor have been since any great friend unto Lisander, in regard of some acci­dents which have mischievously fallen out: But my consci­ence, Sir, obligeth mee to utter this truth, and my honour bindeth me to maintaine it, not onely thereby to preserve the reputation of an honest man, but also to save the lives of these two Knights, who labour no lesse rashly than honou­rably to kill one the other. But if your Majesty will yeeld the combate to any man for Lisander, it is to be granted unto me, Sir, who speake out of knowledge, and who esteeme Lu­cidan so brave and so noble a Knight, that hee will not abso­lutely say the contrary.

By this discourse you may easily know that this Knight was Berontus, and the other two Alcidon and Lidian, whom wee lately left upon their way from Callis towards Paris, [Page 200] with an intent to fight with Lucidan, but seeing themselves prevented, they used this meanes to separate them. Upon this proposition of Berontus, the King caused the Judges of the field to aske Lisanders Knight, upon what ground he had enterprised this fight. Hee answered to maintaine Lisanders honour. It was againe demanded of him what proofe hee had of his innocency. Unto which hee answered, none but the glory of his former actions. The same Judges asked Lu­cidan, what assurance hee had of the murder which hee pre­tended Lisander had committed. Hee answered, none, but that hee would hazzard his life to revenge Chrisantes his death. These words agreeing with Berontus his speech, the King declared Lisander (to the contentment of the whole company) innocent of the pretended murders, and also ab­solved from Cloridons and Chrisantes death, and imposed a si­lence concerning that unto Lucidan for ever, cōmanding him to embrace, not onely the Knight who combated, but also the other three who had offered to fight with him. Lucidan witnessing as much obedience to the Kings command, as he had shewed violence to revenge his Kinsmans death, put up his sword, and putting off his Caske, with open armes went to embrace him, whom lately hee endevoured to kill; who unwilling also to give place in courtesie, put up his sword, and pulling off his helmet, goodly tresses of haire fell about his shoulders almost to the heeles, which with new admira­tion to the world, made them all see that this masculine courage, and more than manly strength, proceeded from a woman. At the first these goodly tresses astonished Lucidan, as well as the others, who was ashamed and despi [...]ed with himselfe, that hee had so vainely employed his Armes against a maid, who had so lively made him feele her cutting sword: but when hee beheld her Angell like face, and considered so many beauties among so many vertues, he was more woun­ded with her lookes than with the blowes of her sword: and in the instant the remembrance of Calista, whom hee despaired ever to obtaine, was lost by the impression which this [...]a [...]e warrier had made in his heart. Adrastus presently knowing her and Lidian also, they both of them ranne toge­ther [Page 201] to salute her with so much joy, that I am not able to ex­presse it. Afterwards knowing one the other, they both took her, one by one hand, and the other by the other, and went with her to doe their reverence unto the King, who embra­cing Adrastus and Lidian, although hee had been angry with him, knowing that it was the faire Hippolita, who, with so gentle a courage, had undertaken to fight so dangerous a combat in Lisanders behalfe, gave her the best entertainment, and did her all the honour hee could devise, with commen­dations as glorious as the party that spake them was great: Hippolita humbly demanded his hands to kisse, but the King with a grace truly royall, said, Rather (excellent maid) should I kisse your hands, which either by love or force will make all the world doe homage unto them: And so presenting her unto the Queene, he said, See here another Amazon, whose beauty shameth the fairest, and her valour the bravest of this age. Heretofore you have heard how Knights have fought to defend the honour of Ladies, but now you see Ladies fight for Knights: Whilest hee yet spake, Dorilas and Alcidon having pulled off their Helmes, did their reverence unto his Majesty, who rejoycing amongst so many good Knights, wondred to see Adrastus and Dorilas undertake this combat. But Calista seeing her father, her brother, and her other friends discovered without their Helmes, and learning by the com­mon report which spread it selfe through the assembly, that the Knight which had fought against Lucidan, was Hippolita her Rivall, out of jealousie of whom she was brought unto this despaire, and that for Lisanders sake shee had undertaken this combate, considering her love unto him, and that which hee was tyed to render againe to her beauty, grace, nimblenesse, courage and strength, wherein she gave place unto none; and seeing also the infinite kindnesse wherwith Adrastus used her, and the countenance wherewith so wil­lingly she received them, she upon all these appearances con­cluded that the first report of Lisanders infidelity was true, and the treacherous excuses of the Porter false, wherefore now she thought her self more miserable and wretched than ever. In this common and publicke joy shee stole out of [Page 202] the pre [...]se, and as well as shee could, retired her selfe unto Longchampe, wherewith griefe upon griefe, and complaint upon complaint, we will leave her in this discomfort, not be­ing able to comfort her.

In the meane time the King turning to Dorilas and Adra­stus, said, Me thought there was a third, who came with you to fight with Lucidan, what is become of him? Sir, answe­red Adrastus, I know not, for so many others came after him, and so many wonders are done this day (especially since the comming of this faire Warriour, pointing at Hippolita) that my eyes were onely busied in beholding them. You make love (replied the King) but I think it is for another (intending Lisander) yet I should bee glad to know this Knight, who is thus gone away without speaking to us: Let some goe after him (said hee to some of his guard which were about him) and so entring into his Coach with the Queene, followed with a great Court, hee returned triumphantly unto the Louure.

To tell you the thanks which Lucidan gave unto Berontus for parting him from the battaile which he had with Hippo­lita, the service which he offered unto the same Hippolita, the contentment which shee received in the glory which this day she had gained, besides the pleasure she conceived in ob­liging Lisander: Adrastus his joy to see him absolved, and in the Kings favour, hoping that this glorious action of Hippoli­ta would oblige him to serve her: That also of Alcidon and Lidian, to see their friend in his former lustre, and Berontus that he was an instrument in it: The comfort which Dori­las tooke in seeing Lidian, and in Lisanders innocency, after which, hee also hoped to see his daughters; it would bee a discourse too long for one breath upon the end of a Booke, which wee will conclude by Gods helpe in the tenth part of this Story.

WEe have represented passions in the end of the last Booke, after the manner of Archi­tectures, who (as it is said) make their buil­dings with the greatest beauty and glory towards the streete, hiding their errours of contriving within the house: for if wee looke neere and judge not by outward appearance, but by truth, we may find that among their sweetnesse and joy there was a great deale of bitternesse and sorrow: All the content­ment which Lisanders friends had to see him absolved, and in the Kings favour, no waies equalling the sorrow which they had for his losse, or that which those who knew not thereof (as Adrastus and Hippolita) had for his absence: And Dorilas his joy which he had to see his sonne, and Lidian his Father, did no way ballance the griefe, which one suffered for his sister, and the other for his daughter. Alcidon and Be­rontus, who in reason had least cause to complaine or desire, were not contented, because they could not see Argire and Ambrisia shine at the Court: yet the webbe of these evils were mingled with some prosperities, which made them some way sufferable; only Calista was uncapable of comfort, her whole reason and wisedome serving but to augment her [Page 204] griefe. We left her within Longchampe, sad, wandring and desperate, all in teares and fury, not knowing what to doe but to dye, whereunto shee fought all occasions, but found none; unexorable death, which with so many sensible and violent sorrowes taketh away life from others, would not doe her that favour.

In the meane time the Porter, who (amongst Alcidons and Lidians followers) had seene Lisanders Flemming and foot­man, and from them having learned the sad newes of his Master, oppressed with his losse, and with the despaire wher­in hee had left Calista; resolved to goe seeke for one, and dis­cover the other: wherefore having spent this night with his fellowes, he rose early the next morning, and going unto Alcidon (who instantly knew him) told him, that the Knight who offered to fight with Lucidan, together with Dorilas and Adrastus, having such a device and such armes, and who af­terwards stole away without making her selfe knowne, was the faire Calista, so [...]arre transported not onely out of love un­to Lisander, but of jealousie unto Hippolita, whose sight had carried her backe unto Longchampe with the same despaire wherein he had first found her: That although he had pro­mised not to discover her unto any body, yet he beleeved he should erre lesse in breaking his word, than in leaving her in this discomfort.

Alcidon wondring (yet glad at this newes) left the Porter at Paris (who departed immediatly from thence towards Normandy, to see if upon the Coast he could have any newes of his Master) and not speaking a word either unto Dorilas, or Lidian of what he had heard of Calista, went unto Long­champe, where she was still a bed, with her chamber doore so fast shut upon her, that it was impossible to open it with­out breaking. He first found her Lackey with her horse, who brought him directly unto her chamber, where knocking at her doore, Calista, who thought it had beene her boy, or the Porter, who having lost her when she stole out of the throng at Paris, was come to seeke her, asked who was there: Al­cidon answered, a Friend. What seeke you, said she (know­ing by the voice that it was neither of them whom she [Page 205] thought it to be:) I seeke you (answered Alcidon.) Stay with­out (replied shee) and I will speake with you presently. In the meane time shee arose, and not content to cloath her, she also armed her selfe, beleeving by these meanes to passe un­knowne amongst all men. When shee was come out of her chamber, and that she saw it was Alcidon, who was not ar­med, shee was like to fall downe dead: yet not knowing what he would say, nor thinking that he knew her, she dis­sembled her astonishment as well as shee could, and dis­guising her voice and behaviour, shee asked him what hee would. Alcidon making as if hee did not know her, asked if she were the Knight of the Buckets, who yesterday had pre­sented himselfe with Dorilas and Adrastus to combate Luci­dan. Whereunto shee answered, yes. It is then, replied Alci­don, with you that I would speake, but I would desire it might bee private. As much as you please, replied Calista, who presently commanded her boy to make ready her horse. When Alcidon saw himselfe alone with her, hee spake in this manner; You doe well to command your horse to bee made ready, for hee must now serve you to escape away, or else to goe unto the King, who commands a straight search to be made for you, forasmuch as that after your going from Paris, remembring that you are the onely man who did not discover your selfe, he commanded that you should bee fol­lowed, to know who you were; but hee was told by some that you were Lisander, and that you would not discover your selfe in regard of Calista's processe, whereupon his Ma­jesty more expressely commanded to finde you, out of a desire he had to marry you to Hippolita, at Adrastus his request, unto whom hee hath promised to pardon Cleanders murther in favour of that marriage. Now if you be Lisander, I beleeve, according unto that great affection which we have born un­to one another, you will not hide your selfe from me: I will counsell you freely as a friend, no longer to dwell upon that wretched and unfortunate love of Calista, who is lost both for you and her selfe, but looking more seriously into your af­faires, not to lose, with the Kings favour, and your parents, so advantageable a match as Hippolita is.

[Page 206]Hardly had he uttered the last word, when Calista looking upon him in disdaine, and setting her hand upon her sword, interrupted him with this answer: Ah thou impudent Trai­tor, who hath given thee boldnesse to use this speech unto me? doest thou use thus to counsell thy friends, to betray that which they ought to hold most deare in the world, for a simple appearance of a petty commodity? But why hast thou not thy armes about thee, to maintaine that which thou counsellest? now will I shew thee unto whom thou addressest thy selfe, and before thee kill my selfe, to the end that the griefe and horror of thy having been the cause there­of, may torment thee all thy life. Saying this, shee pulled off her Cask, & transported with fury, she drew out her sword: but Alcidon catching her in his armes, said thus unto her: Madam, pardon me (if it please you) this invention where­unto I have beene constrained to flye, thereby to make you discover your name, seeing you resolved to hide your selfe from mee. It is true that the King hath sent after you, and if you turne not your selfe out of the way, you will see him but too soone: not that he doth thinke you are Lisander, not that any body hath told him so, and lesse, that hee hath any intent to marry him unto Hippolita; but I my selfe have con­trived it, knowing by the Porter whom you had yesterday with you, the pitifull misery into which (by the false report made unto you of Lisander) you were brought. Wretch as thou art (answered Calista) hold thy peace, art thou not a­shamed to thinke I should bee such a Sot, as to beleeve any word that should proceed out of thy mouth, and to per­swade my selfe the contrary of what thou even now toldest me, and what I have seene? Madam, said Alcidon, what you have seene doth not prove that true which you beleeve; what I have said of the King, in part I have devised it, and of that which I have said of the Porter, you your selfe may judge of the truth, if it bee but by the direction which hee hath given me of this place, whither you were retired, which I should have beene no more able to finde, than a great many others who are now a seeking you: whereby you may ea­sily gather, I knew you when I spake unto you, as well be­fore [Page 207] your helmet was off, as since: but as for that which hath beene told you concerning Lisander, it is absolutely false, that ever he had such a thought, as Lidian & Berontus can equally witnesse with mee, for all foure of us came out of England together, and hee had beene here with us now, if the sea, the winde, and a strange accident had not joyned together to our parting. Berontus loves him no more than he loves you, neither doe I: and if both our testimonies were suspected, yet your brothers ought not to bee so, whom I was unwil­ling to bring with me, or to say any thing unto him, or unto Dorilas, of what the Porter had told mee, beleeving that as you have done me the honour alwaies confidently to assure your selfe upon my friendship, you would rather commu­nicate your passion to me, than unto any of them: See now if there be any appearance in this discourse, and if you thinke not, turne against me the point of your sword, which I had rather feele through my heart, than once thinke to offend you. Alcidon unto the strength of these reasons, added the discourse of what had happened in England, how Lisander after a long combate against Berontus, Lidian and himselfe, had gained the prize of the combate, which was a sword of an inestimable value, and a collar of admirable beauty and riches, which was destined unto her: Finally, how being im­barked to come into France, and how entring into the skiffe to force the Pilot backe unto the charge of the ship, a wave had unfortunately separated them (as you have heard.) And that these things are true (said hee) besides the witnesses which I have named unto you, the sword and the collar are now at Paris, in Lidians hands, with Lisanders horse, armes, and footman, from whom you may draw more particular proofe of this discourse, although none more true, nor none more certaine.

Calista, vanquished with these reasons, knew not what to say, nor what to doe, onely with folded armes she begged pardon, and intreated him to counsell her, converting her first fury into pitifull bewailings of hers and Lisanders hard fortune. The best counsell I can (for the present) give you, said Alcidon, is to leave these armes, which will (in stead of [Page 208] hiding you) easily make you knowne, and untill some reme­dy may be found, retire your selfe into this Abbey; the La­dy whereof is my Kinswoman, and when shee shall know your condition, shee will not bee wanting to yeeld you the honour and entertainment which you deserve: you shall live there (at the least) free from being found, for no men come there, and although they should, it will bee lesse scan­dalous to be found in a Covent amongst religious women, than armed in a field. In the meane time I will treate with Lidian, how to bring about that Dorilas and Otranta may see you, who will be as glad to know that you are here in this Abbey, as they are sorry and desolate because they cannot tell where you are. This counsell being approved by Calista, she left armes, horse and man in her lodging, and in her cloak and her sword she went unto the Abbesse with Alcidon, unto whom they needed not say any more, but that she was Ca­lista. The Abbesse wondring, yet glad that she had power to oblige such a Lady, received her with admirable content­ment, and with as much demonstration of love as was pos­sible. Alcidon returnes directly to Paris, and finding Lidian ready to goe in quest of his sister, told him, that hee would beare him company, if he would goe first and see the Ladies which were at Clarvall; whereunto hee willingly agreeing out of a desire to see his deare Olinda, Alcidon by the way told him, how he had found Calista, and where hee had left her, with all which you have heard, to Lidians great astonish­ment, who neverthelesse was as glad to heare the end of her salley, as he was sorrowfull to heare of the beginning. After many discourses which they had together about this subject, they resolved to communicate it unto the Ladies (whom they went to see) before they would acquaint Dorilas, who lodged together with Adrastus at Paris, and often visiting and courting one another, they swore a most perfect friendship, being both equally troubled, one with the losse of his sonne, the other of his daughter.

On the other side Hippolita having left her armes, and dres­sed her selfe in the most advantageable habits of her sexe, she gave with such lightning into the Courtiers eyes, that for [Page 209] one which with her sword and a great deale of labour shee had vanquished, she had with her looks without intending it, and without contentment, captivated a hundred: For al­though she brought great contentment unto all who beheld her, yet she received none, not seeing him for whom she un­dertooke this voyage. One day after Alcidon and Lidians de­parture, she going unto the Louure with Adrastus, Dorilas & Lucidan, who could bee no more without her, than a Pilot saile without directions to the pole, there entred into the Presence-chamber one of the Guard, bringing with him the armes which were presently known to be the Knights, who with Adrastus and Dorilas offered to combate Lucidan; who presenting them to the King, said thus: Sir, your Majesty having commanded me to seek the Knight who wore these armes, I followed him to Saint Anthonies gate, by which I was told that he went; and having understood that he tur­ned downe by the ditch, untill he came unto Saint Honno­rius his gate, taking his way from thence unto Chaliot, I followed him, alwaies inquiring of those whom I met, un­till I came unto the Wood of Bollogne, where finding none who could tell mee which way he was gone, I ran unto all the Villages round about where I imagined he might be, as Newly, Surene and S. Cloud, without hearing any newes of him, untill this day as I was upon my returne, having now no hope to meet any body who could satisfie me, I met his Lackey neere Longchampe, who came to water his horse. Knowing him, Sir, I asked for his Master, whom (as he told me) he had not seen since the next day after Lucidans combat, when a Gentleman came to aske for him early in a morning at a little house neere Longchampe where hee lay; and for proofe of what he said, because I did not beleeve him, hee led me into the house, where I found nothing but these Armes: I was in the Abbey which is hard by, to enquire of the religi­ous women, who were not able to tell me any thing, where­fore I returned backe to his lodging, and tooke his Lackey, his Horse, and his Armes to present them to your Majesty. The King called the Lackey unto him, and asked him of his Masters name; but hee could learne no more but what the [Page 210] Guard had already told him. Desiring then to see the Horse, he commanded that he should be brought into the Court of the Louure, where Dorilas beholding him with a quicker spirit, and more earnestnesse than when hee saw him under Calista, and seeing him without any caparison or other co­verture but his saddle, presently knew him to be his owne, and consequently that hee whose name they were in such care to know, was his daughter Calista. It is not possible to expresse his astonishment, but by the same silence wherwith he then covered it, retyring himselfe without speaking of a word, for feare left his griefe should discover his thought. So soone as he was gone unto his lodging, he went from thence unto Clarevall, where finding (contrary to his expectation) Lidian and Alcidon amongst the Ladies, unto whom hee had a resolution to tell what he had heard of Calista, he found that they had better intelligence; wherefore in some proportion hee comforted himselfe to understand that shee had retired her selfe into this Nunnery. Ambrisia being amongst these Ladies, and knowing that Adrastus was at Paris, entreated the company to be pleased that she might goe see him, wher­unto they all condescended, and resolved to goe with her.

In the meane time, the King curious to know who the Knight of the Buckets was, commanded that the Armes should be exposed in a publike place, untill some one were found, who could tell newes of him who had worne them the day of the combate betweene Lucidan and Hippolita; who was then in the Lou [...]re with Adrastus, and beleeving that they did belong unto Lisander, who having lost them by some accident, would endeavour to recover them by some meanes or other: intreated his Majesty that they might bee raysed as a Trophee, in the field which was appointed for the battaile, offering her selfe to keepe and defend them the space of eight dayes against any man, who without discovering of himselfe, should offer to take them downe: And by the same meanes, Sir, added Hippolita, forasmuch as I know that Lisander and Calista are no lesse innocent of Cleanders murther (whereof they were most grieved, and are most falsly accused) than Lisander appeared innocent the other day [Page 211] of murdering Chrisantes and Cloridon, I most humbly entreat your Majesty to suffer mee to defend their innocency, and to ordaine, that those who shall accuse him, may appeare with­in the time abovesaid, and prosecute their cause like Knights, and not with wrangling. Adrastus being by at this intrea­ty joyned also his, casting himselfe at the Kings feete, hum­bly besought him to have compassion on his age, and of the sorrow which hee might have for a sonne, such as Lisan­der was, conjuring him with teares that hee might second Hippolita in this enterprise. Verascus was not then at the Court, who would have beene much offended at Hippolita's words: but Berontus who in shew should bee obliged to undertake the answer in Verascus his absence, as well for the neernesse between them, as for the interest he had, being next kinsman to the dead, stood neverthelesse silent, retained not only out of love to Ambrisia and respect which (for her sake) he bare unto all those who maintained her brothers right, e­specially unto Hippolita and Adrastus; but also out of know­ledge, which the same Lisander had given him of the justice of his cause: Yet the King asking him if hee had any thing to answer against Hippolita's request, hee said, That hereto­fore vanquished with the appearances which were in his brothers murder, he had maintained that no man but Lisan­der could doe it: but since having certainely knowne that at that time he was in Flanders, and that the day of his com­bate with Cloridon and Chrisantes he had left his sword (bro­ken in the handle) in the field, hee would rather combate to defend him than to accuse him: beleeving also that his sister in law had too much honour, and too noble a heart ever to conceive a thought of so infamous an act. All the Court wondred at these words, and the King himselfe was asto­nished, and seeing him who had the principall interest in the justice of Cleanders death (contrary to the opinion of all the world) to insist upon the innocency of the accused, an­swered Hippolita, That he did permit her to keepe the armes of the unknowne Knight, in the place and upon the conditi­ons required: but that hee did not grant her the combate which shee demanded against Lisander and Calista's accusers, [Page 212] there being no need since they did confesse them innocent, neverthelesse at her request, he would take the hearing of the cause from the Judges unto his owne knowledge, and that they might both freely come unto Paris to justifie them­selves, hee dispensing with their returning into the estate wherein they were, and giving them the Court for their pri­son.

Hippolita and Adrastus having humbly thanked the King, went both of them to embrace Berontus, and from thence Hippolita having brought Calista's armes into the field, set up a Tent, neere unto which she raised a Trophee, expecting when some body should present himselfe to question them. But Adrastus returning unto his lodging, thinking to find Do­rilas there, to carry him the first newes of his happy successe in Calista's and Lisanders businesse, understood by his Hoste that he was gone unto Clarvall, which made him presently dispatch Lisanders two footmen, which Lidian had left with him, one into Normandy, the other into Britaine, to learne some newes of his Master: and he in the meane time going on horsebacke unto Clarvall with Berontus, who offering to accompany him, out of a desire hee had to see Ambrisia, met her upon the way, with Dorilas, Otranta, Lidian, Olinda, Alci­don and Argire. The joy which Dorilas and all the company received at the news which Adrastus told them, the content­ment which Ambrisia had in seeing her father, and which Be­rontus had in seeing Ambrisia, (who thanked him for the faithfull testimony which he had given of Lisanders and Ca­lista's innocency) tempered the sorrow which all of them had for their absence: and to make it more perfect, they went all together unto Longchampe, not only to see Calista, but to bring her to Paris, expecting Lisanders returne, seeing that by the Kings clemency both the one and the other, with­out feare of the Justice, might appeare safely. Calista being advertised of their comming, had left her cloake and sword, and being apparelled in the ordinary habit of her sexe, recei­ved them with a shame, which did raise unto a higher lustre her incomparable beauty, wherewith shee excelled the fai­rest, which above all others astonished Adrastus (who had [Page 213] never before seene her) and made him not onely excuse Li­sander, but also thinke that hee had a great deale of reason to disobey him, for which he formerly blamed him. Madam, said he, in saluting her, I doe not now wonder if those who have had the honour to see you, do despise all other glory: for I my selfe, whose age ought now to dispence me from that servitude, whereunto you bring all the world, would not wish a greater good, than to be deprived from all others, to have that of your service. Calista knowing who he was, made a great reverence unto him, saying, shee would receive these praises from him, more for the respect which she bare him, than any wayes presuming that shee could merit them: And seeing Dorilas and Otranta, who stretched out their armes unto her, she kneeled at their feet, humbly entreating them to pardon her the displeasure and sorrow which she had raised them. But they lifted her up, intreating her not to bring into their mindes a thing which might trouble the contentment which they had to finde her againe. Furthermore, said Do­rilas, thank this good Knight; for with a faire Amazon who is at Paris, and Berontus his faithfull testimony, which hee gave before the King of your innocency, they are all three cause, that without fear of any castle or prison but the Court, you and Lisander may now enjoy your liberties, which here­tofore you have had in Paris, having the King himselfe for Judge onely. Calista, together with the joy of this newes, felt a secret motion in her heart at the name of this Amazon, which wrought an alteration in her face: But Berontus ad­vancing himselfe then with Ambrisia, whom he conducted, afterwards Alcidon with Argire, and last of all Lidian with O­linda saluting her, put it from her minde for the present, and raised in her a contentment, to expresse which I am unca­pable.

After they had a little rested, and refreshed themselves within the Nunnery, and thanked the Abbesse and the reli­gious women, they all departed toward Paris, where com­ming before night, they alighted at the Louure. Adrastus led Calista, Dorilas Otranta, Alcidon Argire, Lidian Olinda, and Be­rontus Ambrisia. The King being then in the Queenes cham­ber, [Page 214] they were all brought in to their Majesties, unto whom Adrastus presenting Calista, spake unto the King in this man­ner. Sir, behold the Knight whom a desire to justifie Lisan­der concerning Chrisantes and Cloridons death, to the end that hee might afterwards justifie them both for Cleanders, hath made her cover her selfe with blacke Armes, which your Ma▪ hath committed unto Hippolita's keeping: We are not now come humbly to entreat you that they may be ren­dred unto her, she having more power thus disarmed, than all the Knights in the world armed; but to offer you her, to­gether with our humble service, to lay her honour with out meanes, and our lives into your hands, giving you most humble thankes that it hath pleased your Majestie to take knowledge of our cause, and to entreat your Majesty to doe her justice, which yet you never refused to any person. Adra­stus having spoken these words, Calista kneeled down before the King, who having never seene her in Cleanders life (in re­gard it was much retired from the Court) much lesse since his death; was kindled with the lightning of this beauty, which having lifted up, and graciously saluted, he presented her un­to the Queene, saying▪ What thinke you of this Knight, Ma­dam? was it not great pity that such a jewell should be shut up in the Castle? Shee seemeth unto mee rather an Angell than a Knight, answered the Queene, and that those who tooke her from thence, had more reason than those who imprisoned her. These words, and the presence of their Ma­jesties, invironed with a great company whose eyes were all fixed upon Calista, raised no lesse blushing in her, than she kindled fires in their mindes: The Court at this time resem­bled bled a cleere heaven, set full of bright starres, whereof their Majesties were the principal [...] lights, and Calista, Ambrisia, O­linda, and Argire foure of the lesser Planets; to perfect whose number, the fa [...]re Hippolita came, who being led by Luci­dan, knowing that this Calista of whom she had heard so much speech, was not onely come, but knowne to be the Knight of the black armes which she had undertaken to de­fend; left them in the guard of Erifila her maid, to be her selfe at this assembly: So soone as the King perceived her, hee said [Page 215] unto her, You must now (faire Amazon) render the armes, or fight with this faire Lady, unto whom they doe belong. Sir, answered Hippolita, not onely these armes, but all others ought to be yeelded up unto her beauty. What shall then be given unto yours, said Calista, which doth shine with so much advantage over the fairest? I am not able to utter all the faire words which then proceeded from their faire mouthes: But what contrary thoughts were in the meane time hidde in their hearts with what different spirits from their outward shew, did these faire Rivalls behold one the o­ther? with what confusion did Hippolita looke upon the ad­vantage of Calista's incomparable beauties? with what grace, Calista, drawing her glasse sometimes by stealth, see­med to enquire of it about the victory which she presumed to have over Hippolita's perfections? how many torments did Lucidan suffer between the new fires which Hippolita had kindled in his breast, and the lively sparkles which having beene raked up in the ashes of Calista's absence, did now be­come flaming by her presence?

In the meane time night descending, covered with her large mantle poudered with stars, licenced this faire compa­ny; every one departed contented, except Hippolita, who seeing Calista conducted backe by Adrastus, as if hee had al­ready accompted her for his daughter, despaired ever to bee so her selfe. All night she could not sleepe, Calista's faire face, and the admirable attractions of her surmounting beauty swome in her minde, shee saw her selfe overcome by Calista, she thought her selfe despised by Lisander, and called him trai­tour for speaking of love unto her, being ingaged in another place, and ungratefull for leaving her for any other; then a­gaine would shee excuse him for having made so worthy a choice, which she her selfe was enforced to approve. In these disquiets having passed a great part of the night, shee called Erifila, and arming her selfe in Calista's Armes, leaving her own hanging in the place, she departed early in the morning, taking no leave of any body.

Whilest these things thus passed in France, Lisander, who by the tempest was cast upon the Ile of Gersie, together with [Page 228] his Pilot, as we have already said, hearkened unto the man, (yet unknowne) whom wee left complaining in this man­ner▪ Ah wretch, unworthy of this light, whereof thou hast deprived the best Knight in the world, what doest thou in this solitary corner, where, as a Prometheus tyed to this rock, thy bowels renewing, are continually devoured with the eternall repentance of this offence? thinkest thou that this great sea can wash away thy crime, or this secret place hide thee from thy selfe? O Love, thou art a Traitor and a Mur­therer, hiding under such sweet apparances such bloody and mortall effects: Poore Cleander, now reduced unto ashes by thy deadly flame, nay rather by thy impudent flaming de­sire: Infamous Clarinde, who hast brought me into this ex­treamity for thy fault, cursed bee thy memory if it yet re­maine amongst men, and cursed be thy Ghost if it bee gone into Hell: Let thy body be without buriall, thy spirit with­out rest, and thy name without honour, for ever to remaine scandalous and opprobrious unto all the world. By these words Lisander knew that hee who lamented was Leon, whom sorrow for having killed Cleander, and feare of pu­nishment, had shut up in these rockes. O what vowes did hee make unto Neptune for running this fortune? how ma­ny times did he thank the winds and the waves for this hap­py encounter? Well Leon, said he, stepping unto him, resolve your selfe to goe to Paris with us, or else here [...]o leave your life, in satisfaction of that, which you have wickedly taken from poore Cleander. Leon knowing him both by his voice and by his face, and seeing his sword shining in his hand, and over his head, now no lesse troubled with the apprehension of death, than even now weary of living, answered thus: It is true that I have killed Cleander, not maliciously, nor out of designe, but onely to save my life, with the honour of a person whom then I loved, and who was more deere unto me than my owne life; which you cannot thinke strange, if ever you have loved: The repentance and sorrow which I suffer, will (I hope) something excuse the offence, for which I would not refuse death, if my life might not serve to justifie two persons, of whom I beleeve you are one, without [Page 217] which respect, I had rather leave it here, than carry it to Paris to lose it upon a scaffold: but I consider that there is another, in which wee must give an account for this, wherefore I should bee sorry to bury with mee Calista's reputation and yours, whose innocency is so troubled, that it cannot cleerly appeare but in the confession of my fault. Your reasons are good, answered Lisander, but your considerations are a lit­tle too slow, and would have beene unprofitable, if stay had been made untill you had executed them. But better late than never, and although I doe not helpe you to obtaine your par­don for the death of so deare a friend as you have killed, yet I will not hurt you, and it may be the King, according to his accustomed clemency and goodness, considering that it was love and necessity of saving your life, which made you de­prive him of his, will rather use mercy than justice. After some other discourse which they had together, Lisander, without entring farther into the Ile (so great was his desire to be at Paris) made him enter with him into the ship, and the winde being faire, and the sea calme, they made their course along the Coast of Normandy, untill they came unto New Haven, from whence going (without any accident) unto Roane, hee was constrained to stay there to buy horses, and armes, the richest that he had ever yet worne; and to witnesse that he had rather dye in the sight of his Lady, than suffer any longer the torment of his absence, hee bare for his device, an Argent Eagle with wings spread and halfe burned under a Sun of gold, upon which he firmly looked with this word, Purche godon gli occhi, ardan le pinne.

Whilest he busied himselfe about this, the Porter, who (as wee have said) was gone from Paris to seeke him, after the combate betweene Hippolita and Lucidan, and going from city to city, was come from Paris to Roane (beleeving that (in regard of the frequent arrivall of strangers which the sea brings thither) he might there heare newes of him) and pas­sed by chance through the same street where Lisander was about his armes, who perceiving him, called him by his name; Never man in this world was so content as hee was: but if he were joyfull to have found him, the other was as [Page 218] sad when the story of his Mistres was told him (as you have heard) and the letter given him, which said thus.

The condemned man, who after a pardon vainely hoped for, sees himselfe led unto execution, is not more astonished than sorrowfull Lisander was in receiving this newes, then when he thought that all difficulties were removed, and that all things smiled upon him. The Porter told him three or foure times over, all the sallies which jealousie had inforced Calista to make: First, how she had gone from Clarevall in mans apparrell, had put her selfe into armes at Paris, & going from thence to challenge Lucidan, had entred there againe to fight with him before the King: Actions so extravagant, that they must needs proceed from an extraordinary passion. And finding in her letter so much disdaine and indifferency, hee could not imagine from whence such unequall contrarieties should spring. In the end comforting himselfe in his inno­cency, and in the meanes which he had to serve his Lady, by representing Leon, a principall justifying peece in her processe; hee sent away the Pilot with his skiffe, and the next morning earely, with Leon and the Porter, departed from Roane to finde Calista at Longchampe, where he yet thought she was. As he was about halfe way towards Paris, having rid in ex­treame diligence untill noone, hee met two Knights well mounted, and well armed, who came from the same town. They were jealous Hippolita, and her maid Erifila, who the [Page 220] same day were departed from the Court, as you have heard, to search for Lisander with the same passion which lately had so farre transported Calista. So soone as the Porter saw Hippolita's armes, hee judged that it was Calista, and present­ly told Lisander, who as suddenly beleeved it, as hee had a strong desire it should be so; wherefore spurring his horse di­rectly unto her, he lifted up the visour of his Helme, and ben­ding his body to the pummell of his saddle, in saluting, intrea­ted her with as much submission and humility as was possi­ble, not to condemne him without hearing; shee especially, who had proved how much it behooved those who were accused to bee heard in their justifications: Hippolita knowing him, and desirous to convince him of infidelity by his owne confession, seeing hee tooke her for Calista, endea­voured to confirme him in that errour by her silence, and de­spising his excuses, not discovering her selfe untill Lisander transported with passion told her, That hee had never seene the world otherwise, but that those who had best served, were worst used, That for his part hee had attempted all possibilities for her service, and effected them: neither in all the services which he had done, could he ever finde himselfe guilty of any fault, either in effect or will, That hee knew well the report which was spread of his love unto Hippolita, whom hee had beene constrained to see out of reverence un­to his Father; but that he could never love her, what de­monstration soever hee had made, or what excellencies soe­ver were in her, which although they were great, yet were not such as that they could enter into any comparison with hers.

So farre had Lisander discoursed, and would have procee­ded further, beleeving that he spake unto Calista: But Hippo­lita despited to see her enemy preferred before her, and by a man who had formerly preferred her before all mortall crea­tures; not able to beare his discourse any longer, turning a­way her head, and powring forth teares under her Helmet, answered nothing, but O Traitor; which word confirmed Lisander more in opinion that shee was Calista. In the end, Hippolita desirous to revenge her selfe, or to dye by his hands, [Page 221] and thereby to leave him in sorrow all his life, imagined this answer, which put Lisander unto extreame paine, and her selfe into no lesse danger: Thou art deceived said she, in what thou saiest, and she for whom thou takest mee, is farre enough from hence; for know, that I am thy enemy Luci­dan, who have taken from her this horse, and these armes, which thou seest upon mee, and have sent her whither shee shall never returne. But to comfort thee, make thy selfe rea­dy to follow her, for I will either lose my life, or send thee speedily unto her, revenging the shedding of Chrisantes blood by thy death.

Lisander knew hee was deceived by Hippolita's voice, and thinking that hee who spake of revenging Chrisantes death was Lucidan, hee easily beleeved (feare being as quick as de­sire) that according unto his speech hee had killed Calista, and was thereby kindled in such rage, that not able to answer one word, hee set his hand unto his sword, Hippolita having drawne hers, and strucke such a blow upon her Caske, that piercing it unto the skin, he wounded her sorely in the head, and raised more fury in her, than ever in her life possest her; so that seeing Lisander lifting up his arme to redouble his stroake, shee directed the point of her sword unto that place of his Armes, where his Vaunt-brace was joyned unto his Curas, and spurring her horse with all her might, she ranne through his arme. Lisander provoked above all that can bee imagined, to see himselfe so ill handled by one enemy, who had bragged of killing Calista; as his force was doubled by his anger, so his anger was greater than ever it was; and as his stroakes were greater than ever hee had given any, so the resistance which hee found, was greater than any that ever hee met with. Their combate could not be long, because it was so violent, besides, they fought more in eagernesse and fury, than according either to art or judgement, which in all other combates were wont to guide them; both of them lost much blood: Whilest Erifila beheld this pitifull specta­cle in great distresse for the danger wherin she saw Hippolita; and in no lesse feare was the Porter, who in the meane time keeping Leon, according to the use which hee had learned in [Page 222] the Castle, thought that God would here give stay unto Li­sanders victories and good fortune, who preferring the plea­sure of revenge before his life, and determining to end the battaile with one stroak, bore a point against Hippolita's brest so straightly, & with such violence & cruelty, that his sword pierced the Curas, and sliding along by one side, it past un­der her arme pit. Hippolita reeling with this great stroke, he spurres close unto her, and with his Horse thrust so violently, that shee fell downe unto the ground, whither he lighted in such haste, that Erifila could not stay him, pulls her Caske from her head, & lifting up his arme to cut it off (not vouch­safing to looke upon her face) her goodly tresses of haire di­ed in blood, made him first see his errour, and afterwards know that the person whom hee intended to kill with so much hatred, was the faire Hippolita, who having lost her knowledge and sense, was in a swound in his armes. It is not possible to tell the least part of the confusion which was in his soule: hee knew not what to doe, nor what to say, nor what to thinke; sometimes hee was angry with the Porter, who had made him take Hippolita for Calista, sometimes hee blamed Hippolita her selfe, for hiding her selfe under the name of Lucidan, and under the pretext of Calista's death had given way and exacted this disgrace: but Erifila told him, that he himselfe was the cause, forasmuch as Hippolita justly offen­ded, after the demonstration of love which hee had made unto her (and the great bonds wherein she had tyed him, as well in enterprising the voyage unto the Court, the combate with Lucidan, and now in going in quest of him; hee had neverthelesse spoken so disadvantageably of her, and had so highly raised Calista's perfections before hers, and shee not able to suffer, that one who had offered so much love unto her; as in excuse thereof should say, and to her face, that hee had loved her to satisfie another) had upon purpose faigned Calista's death, that the desire of revenge might incite him to fight with her, beleeving that shee had killed Calista, and that falling under his armes as shee had done, shee might leave with him, together with the horrour of her death, an eternall sorrow and repentance of his ungratefulnesse and [Page 223] perfidiousnesse. This redoubled Lisanders perplexity and astonishment, who seeing her lose a great deale of blood, and losing no lesse himselfe, caused her to be carried unto the next village, where having gotten a Surgeon with much dif­ficulty, and finding that Hippolita's wounds were not mor­tall, he caused his own to be dressed, and then put himselfe a­gaine upon his way to Paris, not so much as taking leave of the Lady whom hee had so much injured, nor having the courage to aske pardon of her, whom hee had the heart (not knowing her) so mortally to offend, as well fearing that his presence should cause some alteration in her, as out of shame he had for the words which hee had spoken, thinking her to bee Calista: yet hee did intreat Erifila to excuse his departure without seeing her, fearing the danger which the trouble of his sight might bring unto her: assuring that he never had so sensible a sorrow, as that which he carried with him for the offence which innocently he had done, in satisfaction wher­of there was no kinde of torment or paine which hee would not undergoe to content her, and to recover the honour of her favour. Wee will now let the sorrowfull Hippolity rest a while, unto whom speech was forbidden for feare of a fea­ver: and wee will follow unfortunate Lisander, who went from her no lesse sorrowfull than she. After that hee had rid the rest of the day meditating of that which had hapned, and the estate wherein he left her, together with griefe for these mischiefs fallen, he arrived in the evening at Pontoise, which is some seven leagues from Paris, no lesse weary and travailed in his body, than disquieted in his minde: and, as his ill fortune did guide him, hee alighted at an Inne, the Master whereof was but newly come from Paris, and with him a Gentleman belonging unto Dorilas, who knew Lisander well by report, and not by sight, although he were one of the two whom Dorilas had with him, when he was set upon in the forrest of fountaine Bleau, and saved by the same Lisan­der, as you have heard in the beginning of this History. Li­sander, who desired some divertion from his thoughts, was glad to sup in their company, where his curiosity made him intreat this Gentleman to tell him some newes from the [Page 224] Court, who knowing none more memorable nor fresh than that whereof Calista had beene lately the argument, discour­sed unto him what had hapned since the combate betweene Hippolita and Lucidan: First with Alcidon, then how her armes had been brought into the Louure, and put under Hip­polita's guard, in the field where the battaile was fought, un­till they should bee knowne: how Dorilas knew his horse; and how Hippolita and Adrastus offered to combate against Lisanders and Calista's accusers, for the murder of Cleander: how the King having heard Berontus his answer, who dis­charged them, had taken the cause from the Judges into his owne hearing: how Adrastus and Berontus having carried this newes unto Dorilas, they went together with Alcidon, Li­dian, and the Ladies which were with them, to find Calista at Longchampe, from whence they had brought her to Paris: finally, the words which had past before their Majesties with Hippolita, and the contentment whereunto all things had happily succeeded; all which was matter of joy and comfort to Lisander.

But when following his discourse, hee came to touch the love betweene Lucidan and Calista, which he took upon him to know, as being a houshold servant unto Dorilas, especially since Lidians and Lucidans attonement, and that he added, hee beleeved verily, his young Ladies misfortunes would end in a marriage with Lucidan, which being most earnestly sought by him, and as closely followed by Adrastus, out of a desire hee had to marry his sonne unto Hippolita, it could not be refused by Calista, nor by her parents, principally in Lisan­ders absence, who had witnessed so little feeling of this last occasion, that shee was extremely provoked. Then Lisander turning into tragicall the comicall subject of this newes, lost, together with his stomacke to eat, all rest and quiet in his minde, his very countenance changing, sometimes red as scarlet, then pale as death, astonished all the company with his sudden alteration; yet all the company thought that it proceeded from weakenesse and paine of his wound in his arme, and counselled him to goe to bed. But he well know­ing that this remedy was not apt for his evill, intreated this [Page 225] Gentleman to proceed in telling what hee knew of these Lovers, faigning that his griefe would be diverted by his di­scourse. I can say no more unto you, said hee, but that this morning before I came away to goe to Bellaire, whither Do­rilas hath sent mee for money, hee together with Otranta en­tred into Calista's chamber to propound unto her the advan­tageable conditions offered by Lucidan: one of which was, That the King promised in favour of this marriage, absolute­ly to free her concerning Cleanders death. Besides, they did not thinke it agreeable with Calista's reputation to marry a man, who was accused of the death of her husband. But if he be innocent (said Lisander) what then? It is all one (repli­ed the other) he is still accused, and that leaveth an aspersion, as a bite or a wound doth a scarre, although it be healed. Be­sides, it is verily beleeved that Lisander is drowned at sea, or that if hee be not, hee hath witnessed so little affection unto Calista, that she ought not to thinke that ever there was any such in the world. But is it possible (said Lisander) that a Knight who hath saved Dorilas his life, and Lidians many times, and unto Calista both her life and honour, should now be forgotten for Lucidan; who not onely was never their ser­vant, but hath alwaies beene their capitall enemy? As for Li­dian (answered the other) he holds for Lisander, and as well he as Alcidon and Berontus, will leave the kingdome, rather than be present at Calista's marriage with Lucidan; and she for her part hath not yet made any demonstrations that shee doth incline either unto one part or other: but Dorilas, A­drastus and Otranta doe stir heaven and earth for Lucidan, and which is greatest, the King himselfe favours the match, and he can doe more than all. All these words were like daggers at Lisanders heart, who being able to endure them no longer, bid all the company good night, and retiring into his cham­ber, went to bed.

While he rests there (if a man tormented with so many fu­ries can enjoy any rest) we will returne unto Hippolita, who being recovered from her swound, and awake from a short sleepe, which a generall numming of all her spirits had brought upon her, not seeing her mortall enemy, who had so [Page 226] cruelly wounded her, whom neverthelesse shee loved more than she loved her selfe, shee demanded of her maid where he was? Shee told her his going away▪ and his excuses toge­ther. How (said shee) is hee gone without speaking to mee? and hath hee thus left mee in this pitifull estate, whereunto I am brought by his cruelty? O Tiger! although I were un­knowne unto him, I thinke meere humanity should oblige him to stay with one afflicted; set apart that I am for his sake, and by himselfe thus wounded, and that deceived by his faigned affections, I am come into this countrey, moved by my true affection unto him, have preserved his honour with the losse of my blood and the hazzard of my life: and if wee onely speake of common good will which is a­mongst the most barbarous men, were not that bond enough upon him, to make him see the successe of the wounds which he hath given me? Madam, said Erifila, hee was so afflicted that it would rather have encreased your evill than lessened it; and (therefore he went away, fearing that his sight should cause some alteration in your wounds. Afflicted, said Hippo­lita! what proofe of affliction? hast thou seene him shed one teare? or only fetch one sigh for me? yet (Erifila) I must love him, and if thou also lovest me, and wilt binde mee to love thee more, thou must ride speedily after this ungratefull Knight, and conjure him not to flie from Hippolita, who see­keth and would runne after him, if the wounds which hee hath given mee did not hinder me. Tell him I pretend no­thing in all that affection which hee hath vowed unto mee, but common good will, that I quit him of his promises, and that not only I will not constrain him in the love which hee beareth unto Calista, but that I will mediate his peace with the King, and his marriage with her, and will take upon mee to solicite her against my selfe; let him vouchsafe onely to see mee, and suffer me but to accompany him. I am none of those who have accused him for killing of Cleander, but cleane contrariwise, I am she who have defended his in­nocency, and for his sake, his Ladies. But dispatch Erifila, and reply not, if thou lovest me, or if thou desirest I should live. Erifila, who knew with what spirit shee had to doe, [Page 227] said onely shee would not stay, but would make such haste that she would finde him, and shee would lose her life, or bring him backe. But, Madam, said shee againe, who shall have care of your wounds in my absence? Care not you for my wounds, said Hippolita, they are neither mortall nor dan­gerous, onely goe thy waies, and take heed thou doest not try Lisander in armes, for therein hee is no lesse invincible, than in grace and comlinesse incomparable. Erifila departeth (al­though it were night) and upon a speedy gallop followes af­ter Lisander: where leaving her, there is a necessity now we should relate what is done at Paris.

Besides the instant pursuits of Lucidan to marry with Cali­sta, Verascus, who was advertised of the propositions which Hippolita and Adrastus had made unto the King about Clean­ders murder, and also what the King had ordained, as well upon their offers, as upon Berontus his declaration in favour of the accused; came Poste to Paris, and addressing himselfe unto the Court of Parliament, obtained a sentence against Calista, containing, that most humble remonstrances should be made to his Majesty, to be pleased, that justice might free­ly bee executed upon the persons of those who were accused of Cleanders death: which sentence being gravely pronoun­ced, yet vainely, because the King had already given his word; although they did not hide, that this crime scaping humane justice, could not scape divine, neither could this in­nocent blood unjustly shed upon earth, crying vengeance in heaven, fall in any other place but upon his Majesties head, or his childrens; Verascus addresseth himselfe unto the King, and intreateth him to grant unto him the like combate a­gainst those who had offered to defend Lisander and Calista, as he had granted unto Lucidan; a request not onely just, but also favourable: for besides that the combate granted to Lu­cidan served him as a prejudged case, there was no reason to deny or refuse Verascus upon a cause already judged, and a­gainst persons condemned, having suffered it unto Lucidan a­gainst a man who was not in apparance: furthermore, hee required nothing but what the friends of the adverse part had already demanded, and besides the cause of his kinsman, [Page 228] for whose justice he sued, hee was injured in his honour by Hippolita's words: The King granted that which in justice hee could not deny. Thus was Adrastus his life and Calista's honour once againe in tryall, and all the joy of the dayes pas­sed turned into griefe and desolation; Lidian, Alcidon and Berontus were all mad to dispute this difference with Veras­cus, who in all their opinions, was like discord let loose by envie out of hell, to trouble all their quiet. But God forbid, said Adrastus, that any other but my selfe, being in health and present, should undertake the defence of my sonne and of my owne offer: I have demanded this combate against Verascus, and (if it please God) I wilbe the first that shall maintain the innocency which hee would oppresse. Who is able to utter Dorilas his anger, Otranta's complaints, Ambrisia's griefe, O­linda's teares, Argires sorrow, and the deadly confusion of unfortunate Calista? who can declare Lidians fury, to see his sisters cause and his friends, hazzarded under the defence of a feeble old man, whose age might justly bee dispensed from Armes? finally, who can speake the universall discomfort of all? For besides Calista's and Lisanders interest, which was common amongst them, every one had a feeling of his owne particular▪ Lucidan to see himselfe frustrate of his hope to marry Calista if her Father were vanquished by Verascus, Be­rontus to see himselfe deprived of his marriage with Ambri­sia, and Alcidon to see his also with Argire to bee deferred, there being no hope to marry in the calamity of two persons so deere unto him, as was Lisander and Calista. So that Ve­rascus was universally cursed of all: yet the combate being granted, it was published that very day, and assigned three dayes after in the same place, and with the same Armes as had beene appointed unto Lucidan; the King reserving unto himselfe the judgement of the cause after the combate was fi­nished.

Lisander in the meane time having spent the night in the greatest trouble of minde that ever hee was in▪ continually meditating what meanes hee might use to undoe the knot of his love, which was so intangled that he could finde no end, about breake of day rose with Leon with purpose to goe to [Page 229] Paris, and hoping by his presence to give stop unto Lucidans further suite, or else to fight with him rather upon that quar­rell than about Chrisantes his death. But as he was ready to get up on horsebacke, Erifila came, who having posted all night, and comming unto Pontoise upon the opening of the gates, she met him even as he was going away, and having delive­red the charge which her Mistresse had given her, to finde him, and to intreat him to come backe unto her who did but desire to see him; the trouble and perplexity of his minde redoubled so upon him, that hee became dumbe and immoveable as a statue: Of the one side, he saw it was an un­excusable ungratitude to refuse the going back seven or eight leagues to see one, who had come two hundred for his sake, had fought in his quarrell against Lucidan, & afterwards had offered to fight against those who did accuse him for killing Cleander: Furthermore, such a person as Hippolita was, who seeking him after so many obligations, hee had in recom­pence doubly offended, both in words which he had spoke, and by those blowes which hee had made, and now to re­fuse her in so pitifull a plight, whereunto he had brought her he thought it was a cruell discourtesie, extremely contrary to his nature: Of the other side, setting before him Calista's jea­lousie, the strange courses which this passion had enforced her unto, the combate which shee had enterprised for him, then when she beleeved that hee had left her, with so much more danger unto her than unto Hippolita, by how much she was lesse practised in armes than Hippolita, and with so much the more merit, by how much she thought she fought for an enemy, against a servant by whom shee was ado­red▪ The letter which shee had written upon the subject of this jealousie, and the displeasure which shee would receive when shee understood that hee was now with her Rivall: The fresh newes of Adrastusses and Dorilasses labouring to marry her with Lucidan, and the meanes which hee had to breake it off, and to serve her both in justifying himselfe and her by Leons owne mouth, and by this last obligation to surpasse all his former, which hee could not defer without great danger of losing all. All these reasons together, making [Page 230] the ballance weigh downe in favour of Calista, made him in­treat Erifila to pardon him, and to excuse him to her Mistres if the necessity of his affairs, which had so long called him un­to the Court, hindered him from doing this small service, un­to the most sensible and most violent of all his sorrow. God never be helpfull unto me, answered Erifila, if I doe not kill my selfe rather here in your presence, than suffer you to com­mit so great a fault; what, would you kill her? for I am sure the despite which she will receive by this deniall can worke no lesse: Is this the recompence of all the dangers wherunto she hath exposed her self, of the travell which she hath taken, and of the evill which she hath suffered for you? Doe not doe your selfe, Sir, this wrong: I conjure you by that which you owe unto the greatnesse of your courage, and to the glory of so many brave and generous actions which you have perfor­med, not to refuse her, for I assure you if you doe, you will for ever wither with a reproach of an eternall infamy: I promise you, you shall not stay, and so farre will she be from constrai­ning you in the affection which you beare unto Calista, that contrariwise she will serve you; wherefore give this content­ment unto one, who doth perfectly love you, and who for all acknowledgment of the love which she beares, and satisfa­ction for the injury which you have done her, demandeth onely but this fight.

While she thus spake, a Poste comming from Paris, was knowne by Dorilas his man, who had supped over night with Lisander: he asking in Lisander and Erifila's hearing of newes from the Court, was told the combate which was to bee fought betweene Adrastus and Verascus about Cleanders death. Will you have any more lawfull excuses, said Lisander unto Erifila? must I without any feeling of my honour, or of Calista's (which ought to be more deere unto mee) suffer my father to hazzard his life in my quarrell, while I foolish­ly trifle out time in contenting Hippolita's idle humour? be­sides, if I could serve her to her desire, what profit could I bring her, unlesse it bee a [...]eaver? Your presence will not bee unprofitable, answered Erifila, for it will save her life; and for the combate, you have time enough to bee there in three [Page 231] dayes: and never thinke that shee who hath come so long a journey to defend your honour here in your absence, will now counsell you to lose it here before your eyes, or suffer you to doe so, if you were willing. Let us goe then, replied Lisander, vanquished with her importunity, upon conditi­on you presse mee not to stay, but that immediately after I have seene her, I may returne my way: upon these conditi­ons hee followes Erifila with his company, and came unto the Village where Hippolita lay wounded. To tell you the discourse which shee fashioned unto her selfe in Erifila's ab­sence, those which were made at her returne, as well by her as by Lisander, the shame that both of them had when they saw one the other, one remembring what he had said, the o­ther what she had heard spoken; it is not possible: At the first they onely beheld one another without speech, thinking that their lookes could better expresse their thoughts than words. In the end, Lisander going about to speake first, was so confounded, that the more hee endeavoured to expresse himselfe, the lesse he was understood: Hippolita judging the confusion of his minde by that of his words, and seeing his astonishment in his face, was more satisfied to see the appre­hension and trouble which shee raised in this great courage, than with all the excuses and submissions which hee could make; and receiving this perplexity for a testimony of his sorrow, resolved to pardon him: whereupon cleering the beams of her face, which griefe and danger had darkned, and beholding him with a more pleasing eye than shee had done at the first entrance, she loosened his tongue whereby he had power to utter these words: Madam, I take heaven to wit­nesse, that it was force, and not will which hath constrained me to offend you, and that now it is will, & not force, which bringeth mee, for your satisfaction, to offer you my life, in­treating you to do it so much honor, as to think it worthy of your revenge: I could wish that I had something more deare unto me, if by the losse thereof you might be better satisfied: But seeing I have nothing, whereof I can dispose, more deere unto me than my life, & since that hath committed the fault, I doe entreate you to sacrifice it to your anger, and receive [Page 232] this voluntary reparation of a constrained injury. Ah Lisan­der, answered Hippolita, you have much more grace than rea­son, in excusing the wrongs which you have done: but tell mee, I pray you, what hath miserable Hippolita done unto you, that you should so poorely betray her facility? for I doe not bewaile the wounds which I have exacted from you, nor your words, which strength of passion and of truth, ob­liged you to speake unto me, thinking you had spoken unto Calista: But of those which from a free motion you have of your owne accord uttered, falsly perswading me that you on­ly lived for mee. It is true, Madam, answered Lisander, that I have spoken something of love unto you, pressed by the in­stance and authority of my parents, who much desired that I should serve you; but never out of any free motion as you have beleeved: for not onely then, but long time before I had the honour to see you, I was promised unto Calista, & Calista unto mee: But though her absence, and the object of your present beauty, should have wrought mee unto it, yet had it not beene from a free motion, but constrained by the vio­lence of a passion which you cause in many others; And am I (thinke you) beyond others so free from passion, that I can­not be subject unto it? Is it a crime to love a thing so lovely? Am I the onely man in the world who at divers times in di­vers places hath served two Mistresses? or rather, was there ever Knight, that hath loved but one Lady? It is no justifi­cation of your crime (replied Hippolita) to alledge examples of others infidelity, but contrariwise it is an inwrapping of their faults with yours, and a charging your selfe with them for the same evill. You are a better Knight, than a faithfull Lover, in this time, when it is a bravery amongst many to sport themselves with the love of Ladies: you have let mee see heretofore the quickenesse of your spirit, but I did never so plainely discerne it as in this occasion, wherein you want no faire words & good reasons, at the least in appearance, to colour so evill a cause: I am sorry you have no better, that I might have lesse cause to complaine of you, and more to par­don you. But an offence of this nature is not so easily justi­fied as committed, yet I thinke you have one reason which [Page 233] your discretion concealeth, I see I must utter it my self against my selfe, that is, the subject for which you leave mee, is of such perfection, that she meriteth not only an excuse for you, but also that you should bee commended for so worthy a choice; for although you had loved me before you saw her, as you loved her before you saw mee, and that you were the faithfullest lover that ever had name, yet shee hath charmes enough to make you lose your constancy, and to make you ungratefull and perfidious to all the world, to bee constant and acknowledging unto her only: and this comfort (at the least) remaines unto me, that if you have left me, it is for a La­dy who doth merit it, and whose beauty incomparably sur­passing all others, doth lessen the sorrow & the shame which I may conceive for her being preferred before me: yet one thing I would intreat of you, which is, that though I have lost your affection, you would neverthelesse preserve unto mee your good will, and assure your selfe, that you may well bee possessed by some other, but I shall onely be yours.

Lisander no lesse ravished with the beauties than with the spirit and judgement of Hippolita, could not answer but with sighes, and offering her his humble service with a per­fect friendship, sorrowing that hee could not give himselfe unto her, being not his owne. Erifila then seeing them in this faire way of agreemēt said unto her, Madam, I have pro­mised this Knight that he should returne this day, to ease his Father of a combate which he is to have with Verascus, but hee may be there time enough although he come but to mor­row. How? (answered Hippolita) is there a combate assig­ned betweene Adrastus and Verascus. I, Madam, replied Eri­fila, who presently told what they had learned of the Poste in passing by at Pointoise. Upon my honour (said Hippolita) it shall not goe so: It is I, who have made the first overture, and Adrastus can be but my second, if there be two accusers, and there being but one, it is I who must make the battaile. I, Madam, answered Lisander, if I were not present, but all being enterprised upon my occasion, and in my absence, it is not reasonable, that I being present, any other should de­fend my right. Besides, I have Leon here who will depose [Page 244] my innocency, who being heard, I doe not thinke any com­bate will be necessary, unlesse it be between him and mee, if hee will denie the truth which he hath confessed. I will tell you what we will doe, said Hippolita; to morrow I shall bee able (notwithstanding my wounds) to goe in two dayes to Paris; for by your onely comming, I finde my selfe almost well, and we will appeare all together. A thousand other faire words said they amongst themselves, which I cannot re­peat: but to be short, after the day was spent, and a good part of the night in this manner, the next morning they rose very early to goe to Paris, as they had determined.

Hippolita's wounds were the cause they could not come thither before the day of the combate, which was already begun. Adrastus of one side, and Verascus of the other, were both come into the field; the first in his armes whose colour and device we have already spoken of, and the other in taw­nie armour, having for his device an Austridge, holding an horse shoe in the mouth, with this word, Sic nutriantur fortes. He was followed by all Cleanders kinsmen, excepting Beron­tus ▪ who would not be there, neither for one nor other. A­drastus was accompanied with Dorilas, Lidian, Alcidon, Luci­dan, and many others. They were both couragious & strong, and witnessed in their armes great fiercenesse, as those who in their youth had atchieved many memorable adventures. The royall Scaffold was furnished with their Majesties, fol­lowed with a great Court, besides which, there was an infi­nite company of others, who did inviron the whole field, and upon one side was Calista all in mourning, accompanied with Otranta, Olinda, Ambrisia and Argire, and miserable Cla­rinda alone upon the other. Already was the Sunne equally divided▪ and the Trumpets sounding the charge, the comba­tants having [...]ne one against another with great violence, breaking their Launces to their hands, and remaining with­out advantage, had perfected their careere: And as they were returning, with their swords shining in their hands, every one looking stedfastly upon them without stirring an eie, and silent without a word; Hippolita and Lisander, together with Erifila and Leon, came into the field, which drew the eyes of [Page 235] all the company upon them. At their first entrance there was raised a little noise, like a gentle murmuring, proceeding from this infinite world of people, whereof some knowing Hippolita by the Armes which shee wore, raised this gentle noise. In the end, seeing they went directly to speake unto the King, and every one being desirous to heare what they would say, there was an universall silence (a thing rarely happening in so great a multitude) during which, Hippolita having intreated his Majesty to stay the combate, and to cause the combatants, together with Calista and Clarinda, to be brought neere; shee spake in this manner: Sir, I am Lisan­ders Knight, who first had the lot to maintaine his cause a­gainst Lucidan, and who first have offered to defend it against Verascus. Adrastus, unto whom you have permitted it in my absence, being but my second, cannot be received but after mee: But, Sir, before this difference be decided, and that all men may know with what justice I have undertaken the defence of the accused, I do humbly intreat you to heare what this Knight can say concerning Cleanders death. Saying this, Hippolita presented Lisander, who pulling off his Helmet, and doing humble reverence unto the King, hee filled all the assi­stants with wonder and astonishment. Sir, said hee in pre­senting Leon, of this man your Majesty must be informed of Cleanders death, and not of me, who was farre off, and who had not knowne it but by his [...]o wise confession. It onely concernes mee Sir, to defend my innocency and Calista's, a­gainst those who have [...]o vilely slandered us unto your Ma­jesty; and for me to demand pardon (which I doe, Sir, with as much humblenesse and submission as is possible) [...]hat not having meanes soone [...] to justifie my innocency, and not daring in the [...] to appeare before the angry face of my Prince, I have beene constrained to goe aside, with as much sorrow as a faithfull subject could have to spend his life out of the sight and favour of so great a King. At the same instant Leon cast himselfe at the Kings feet, implored his mer­cy, and demanding pardon, first of his Majestie, and after of Lisander and Calista, declared openly before all the world, that onely he and Clarinda were guilty of Cleanders death; re­citing [Page 236] the long love betweene himselfe and Clarinda, the meanes which she used to bring him unto Beauplaine with­out the privity of her Mistresse, and how, as hee would have gone from her chamber when Calista was comming in, hee was stayed by Cleander, who came out of his owne chamber at his wives cry, and that hee having gotten Lisanders sword (which he wore then about him) in the manner as you have heard formerly, hee was constrained to kill him, to save his own life and Clarinda's honour, which was then most deare unto him: Hee added, that this fault had beene committed without his designe, that he had suffered long and extreme sorrow, and done great penance, wherefore he besought his Majesty that it might bee in stead of punishment. Wicked Clarinda seeing her selfe thus convicted of her crime by him for whose sake she had committed it, and not able to deny her vi [...] treachery, was compelled to confesse it, humbly cra­ving pardon of the King, of Lisander, and of her Mistres Cali­sta: But the King abhorring her prayers, and yet retained by his mercy, instantly condemned her to spend the rest of her dayes within the foure walls of the repentants; perpetually banished Leon out of his kingdome, restored Lisander and Ca­lista unto their former honour; and for a reparation of the injury which had beene done them, adjudged them the goods of the guilty. Whilest these things were a doing, joy and admiration possessed the hearts of all those who were present. Adrastus and Verascus, who lately would have kil­led one the other, now lovingly embraced. Dorilas and O­tranta thanked the King for his justice to their daughter; Li­dian, Alcidon, and Berontus with teares in their eyes embraced Lisander, remembring how they had lost him at the Sea, and how God had sent this storme that Leon might bee found, whereby things were brought to so happy an event. Am­brisia, Olinda and Argire kissed Calista, as if they had not seen her a long time, rejoycing with her at the change of her for­tune past unto this pres [...]nt, and at the glorious end, to which these long miseries were brought, considering the inconstan­cie of our life, and how small a distance the [...]e was betweene the time wherein they had seene her in so great calamity, and [Page 237] this, wherein they found her in so great glory. Lisander could not tell which way to turne him, so much hee was busied, sometime in speaking to the King, sometime to his father, and by and by to entertaine his friends: yet in the end getting from them, and going to kneele downe before Calista, shee turned from him unto Lucidan, who was neere her, and be­gan to entertaine him with speech, not saluting or so much as looking upon Lisander. And from hence I gather that all wo­men (for the most part) have a spirit of contradiction, and so strange and so unequall a humour, that no judgement or knowledge can be settled of them; for who can otherwise say, seeing Calista, the ornament of her sexe, leap over wals af­ter Lisander, then when her husbands death, her owne pro­cesse, her parents authority, and Lisanders love with Hippolita might have justified her ingratitude, and now when nothing could excuse her, after such extreme obligations, such present and signall services, to turne her backe unto him when hee offered himselfe? When I remember how shee went from Clareval, disguised in a habit so undecent for one of her con­dition, how shee resolved to fight with Lucidan who loved her, for Lisander by whom shee thought shee was forsaken; she who had never managed armes, and whom I now see honour the same Lucidan to despite Lisander, and to constrain her selfe to disdaine him, then, when he gave so great and so necessary a proofe of his fidelity, I must needs accuse her of in­constancy and ingratitude, and thinke her worthy of the mi­series which she hath suffered, losing the sorrow which I had to see her endure them.

But as meates wherewith one eates in health unto a ful­nesse, in sickenesse are many times abhorred, so the extreme and violent love which she bore unto Lisander being absent, turned at the seeing him into hatred; and remembring the follies which the passion of this man had made her commit, she was ashamed, and wished him evill, for the same cause for which she had wished himselfe well: furthermore, be­ing jealous of Hippolita, as shee was, and seeing her come with him; she thought he did not much care for displeasing her, since hee durst appeare before her in the company of a [Page 238] person who had caused so much griefe unto her: As for Li­sander he remained mute and immoveable as a rocke, neither was this an affront which could bee repaired with a word. Oh! if any other but Calista had done this, how would hee have returned it? What, said he to himselfe, in so good com­pany, in the presence of my Rivall, to doe this indignity unto mee? An Calista! thou shalt never returne, I will never give you this advantage over me. In this meditation (which was raised by anger, that Arch rebell against love) hee turned to the other Ladies, all of them giving him as much honour, as Calista had given him neglect: And the King being entred into his Coach, together with the Queene, both joyfull for the happy successe of this day, they all waited upon them unto the Louure, and from thence retired themselves unto their lodgings, very few observing the coldnesse that passed from Calista to Lisander, who all that [...]ight had a grievous conflict with himselfe, whether to yeeld unto love, or un­to anger▪ and his associates fury and despite▪ faine he would have expo [...] [...] and laied unto her his merits, and her un­gratitude, but his great heart, counselled with youth and heat, and both seduced by wrath, resolved never more to see her, l [...]st love, with the unresistable power and charmes of her lookes, might pacifie his minde (most ordinary amongst lo­vers) and worke his owne soveraignty by a reconciliation: Of the one side, by yeelding unto his wrath he sai [...] despaire, like a chiefe messenger of angered love, presse hard [...], a [...]uring him that without enjoying Calista he could not love: Of the other side anger represented unto him [...]he sco [...]es which hee should undergoe by seeking unto her▪ which wrought so with him, [...] especially [...] absence, that he resolved though he could not live [...] enjoying the one, hee would [...] rather than suffer the other: A resolution [...] worthy of a brave Gentleman, i [...] he had performed i [...]. Th [...] sp [...] Lisander the [...].

The next morning, Alcidon and Lidian rising very early, went one [...] Adrastus his chamber, and the other into Do­rilasse [...], unto whom at large [...] remonstrated Lisanders long [...] to enjoy Calista ▪ whom he having delivered, first, [Page 239] out of prison, and then freshly from all suspition of the crime whereof she was accused, she could not justly be refused un­to him: wherefore they entreated to crowne the end of their adventures by a lawfull marriage, which would accomplish their felicities, adding, that it was true indeed Calista's ho­nour was restored unto the first lustre, by the verifying of her innocency: but having remained so long in Lisanders company, although it were with all the honesty that could bee desired betweene persons of their conditions and merit, her reputation would neverthelesse bee exposed unto the di­scretion of evill tongues, if it were not defended by this mar­riage. Adrastus seeing that Calista had now the same advan­tages over Hippolita, which Hippolita had formerly had o­ver her, and not willing to force his sonne in a matter which ought to bee so free, went instantly into Dorilas his chamber, whom hee found already disposed thereunto by Lidian, and who seeing, that Lucidans offers were now of no value unto Calista, desired rather Lisanders alliance (unto whom he was so straightly bound) than his: wherefore meeting both in one desire together, they agreed upon the marriage between Lisander and Calista, no body doubting of the parties consent, whom all the world knew to love one the other most per­fectly.

But when Adrastus would speake of it unto Lisander, thinking to rejoice him in bringing so good news, for which not long since hee would have given the Monarchy of the whole world, he was astonished at his answer, which was, That having run so dangerous a fortune at Sea, he had made a vow to God, that if he had the blessing to escape, he would goe in pilgrimage unto Rome, wherunto being more strong­ly bound by his finding Leon, and the happy issue of his bu­sinesse; he intreated him that he might performe his vow be­fore he contracted any marriage: And in the same time Ca­lista answered Dorilas, upon the proposition which was made unto her of marriage with Lisander, That being in the Abbey of Longchampe, afflicted with so many adversities, God had so [...]ouched her heart, and had given her so lively a feeling of the difference betweene the sweetnesse of a religi­ous [Page 240] life and the bitternesse which is tasted in this other life of the world, that she had vowed to leave it, and enter into that Monastery, so soone as shee should have ended her processe. The sad old men astonished and confounded with their chil­drens answer, were so much the more sorry by how much they durst not tell one the other the answer which they had received, and wondring from whence so sudden and so great an alteration should proceed, as those who did not easily be­leeve the vowes wherewith their children would have a­mused them, and fearing lest they should plunge themselves againe into new mischiefes, from whence they but now got out, could not chuse but witnesse the feeling they had of this their disobedience. What, said Adrastus unto Lisander? when I would have married you with Hippolita, you pretended a voyage unto the Court for love of Calista, and now when I would marry you with the same Calista, you pretend ano­ther unto Rome. Well, goe whither you please, but never account me for your father, nor thinke that I will ever avow you for my sonne, but will faile of my purpose if I have not another course held with you: with these words hee flung out of the doores from him. So much in the meane time said Dorilas unto Calista, threatning her in extreme choler to shut her up, not onely in the Nunnery of Longchampe, but in the house of the repentants with Clarinda. How? said the olde men, have you followed him through all France, all Flanders, and all Frisland? Have you gone out of Clareval at midnight all alone to seeke after him? have you left your parents, dis­guised your sexe, forgotten your condition, taken armes, attempted all kinde of extremities for love of him, then when you were despised? and now when hee doth adore you, when he hath bound you unto him with so extraordi­nary a service▪ you play the disdainefull foole: Remember your selfe better, Calista; God never pardon me, if I pardon you, or if I doe not endeavour to make you an example; and so goes out of the doores. Judge you in what plight our Lo­vers were by their owne folly, which [...] to torment themselves: Calista began to [...] wrong which shee had done unto Lisander, and beginning to repent hee [Page 241] selfe, desired onely that hee would come unto her, and shee would repaire it; I, she would have come halfe way, if shee could have found some honest occasion to goe unto him: But Lisander, who knew hee could not goe from her but to his death, not so much moved with his Fathers anger and threatnings, as with love, although he could have been con­tented to have urged his merit, and desired to have knowne his fault, as also to have beene pardoned; yet not knowing her minde, but setting before his eyes the scorne which she did him publikely, and in favour of his arrivall, hee willingly gave himselfe to death, and rather than he would any more sue unto an ungratefull woman, who had paied all his signal services with such an affront, hee swore he would never see her, but leave the countrey: First, intending to write a bit­ter letter unto her, which his trusty Porter should carry her; unto which end, he went unto an Inne, with resolution to­ward the evening to depart: but halfe his letter was not written, when there comes one of the Kings Guard, who having enquired him out, told him, that the King had sent for him, and that hee must presently goe with him unto his Majesty: for Adrastus, incensed by Lisanders disobedience (as hee conceived it) hasteth to the Court, and findes out the King, unto whom (not so much out of sound judgement, as out of petulancy of age, resolving to force his sonnes will, or remove all things under Heaven) being admitted into his presence (kneeling downe, with grievous sighes and lookes to move the King unto compassion) hee said, Sir, I have for­merly come unto you to beg pardon and mercy, which was in your pleasure to give: but now, Sir, I come with much more sorrow at my heart to beg for justice, which you may not deny, and against my sonne; that sonne, for whom my feeble age, carried more with strength of affection than body, hath made so long a journey, undertaken such dangers, and in this place implored mercy: wherefore, Sir, have pity of the just griefe which maketh me complaine, and thinke how great it is, since it maketh a father demand justice against his sonne, who, unlesse your Majesty be a helper unto me, will be the affliction of my miserable age: Bee pleased therefore, [Page 242] Oh Sir, to command him to be brought before you, that to his faced may urge my accusation. The King▪ together with all the standers by, wondred what new accident was fallen out, as well out of curiosity, as out of a desire to do justice to the complaints of his subjects, presently gave command that Lisander should be sought for and brought before him hard­ly had the King made an end of commanding to bring Li­sander, when Dorilas came into the presence, and witnessing as much hast, anger and griefe as Adrastus had done, kneeled downe before the King, begging the like justice against his daughter Calista ▪ urging the cause of his complaint to bee such, as was beyond a Fathers suffering, and such as ought by punishment to bee made an example; humbly entreating, that shee also might be commanded to come before his Ma­jesty where if she had any thing to alledge in her behalfe, she might then speake. This encreased the Kings wonder and desire to heare the cause, and therefore gave order to have her also fetcht before him: Shee was found as soone as Lisander, and came accompanied with her Mother, Ambrisia, Argire, and Olinda ▪ as also with Lidian, Berontus and Alcidon, all won­dring what the occasion of their sending for should bee. When Lisander and Calista were come before the King (for they came almost together) and both beheld one the other, Oh! how soone had Calista's lookes (which were with more gentlenesse) dispersed Lisanders anger, and utterly rui­ned his resolution?) hee commanded Adrastus to declare the cause of his complaint against his sonne; whereupon Adrastus began, that besides the common duty of a good Fa­ther, which hee had alwaies performed unto his sonne, he called his Majesty to witnesse what hee had lately enterpri­sed for him in this his old age, to the extreame perill of his life: yet neverthelesse having twice offered him marriage with parties more worthy of him, than he of them, he was so fa [...]re from yeelding any kinde of obedience, that first ha­ving stolne from him, and by the flight having put both him and his friends unto such unevitable dangers of utter ruine, if by a particular care, and admirable providence, God had not miraculously preserved them▪ Hee was now about the [Page 243] same course under pretence of a feined vow, making religi­on a cloake to palliate his disobedience. He had hardly pro­ceeded thus farre in his complaint, when Dorilas advanced himselfe, and interrupting his further discourse, began his complaint against Calista in this manner: As much, Sir, can I say against this ungratefull Calista, who knowes not, or at least will not respect the sorrowes and the travailes which she hath given me; the afflictions and evils wherewith shee hath so often broken the course of my life. I need not abuse your Majesties patience in relating the story, it is but too ma­nifest; Neverthelesse, Sir, she is not ashamed to disobey me, in that which above all things in the world shee hath most earnestly desired, how then, Sir, would she have obeyed me in any other matter which should have beene contrary unto her minde? Sir, you having setled order in the estate, ought also to do the like in families, and as you are a great father of the kingdome, exacting obedience, & maintaining the pater­nall authority of the Royalty; so I hope you will, and we do humbly entreat you to render the ancient power of fathers over their children who will not obey.

The end of these complaints were not lesse pleasing unto Lisander, than the beginning had beene displeasing, seeing they concluded in the marriage of Calista, who silent, yet with lookes full of pity and love upon him, hee spake in this manner: Sir, it cannot be denied but that my fathers words are most true, and if I had yeelded all kind of obedience unto him, yet his benefits and fatherly goodnesse are so great unto me, that I ought not to be ungratefull; although I cannot sa­tisfie them, yet Sir, if I have but deferred and not refused his commandements, the injury is not irreparable; wherefore I doe humbly entreat your clemency and his to forgive mee, upon condition I repaire my fault. And you faire one, said the King then unto Calista, what answer make you unto your fathers complaint? Calista seeing things brought to the point which shee did desire, and being glad that her fathers command, or rather the Kings, might constraine her to par­don Lisander, and to marry him, absolutely beleeving that ei­ther one or the other of them two would compell her (as [Page 244] Ladies would faine be forced in those occasions, and doe ne­ver yeeld but with some shew of constraint) answered in this manner: Sir, it is a complaint which I renew every day in my soule, and one of the greatest evils wherewith my minde is afflicted, that ever I should be the cause of sorrow unto my parents. But that which comforteth me, Sir, is the assurance which I have in my heart, that your Majesty and they themselves doe cleerly see, that it is rather my evill for­tune than my fault. And as unto the disobedience, whereof they complaine, I have yeelded it as fully as ever any daughter in this world did, excepting onely in one point, from which the condition of my widowhood, & a thousand other rea­sons which I cannot speak of, do dispense me. And Sir, though there were no other reason but my will, having once submit­ted me unto theirs, they shall force me to submit if I do again in so unreasonable a matter.

Calista said this, beleeving that the King would have more respect unto Adrastus his request and unto Dorilas, than unto any reasons which she should bring: but she was deceived, and did quickely repent her of this last folly; for the King wisely judging that nothing in the world ought to bee freer than marriage, nor that any thing was so contrary unto the liberty thereof as violence, dismissed the two fathers from the power which in this case they demanded over their chil­dren. Calista, because she had beene once married at her fa­thers will, & Lisander, because he was not bound to obey his in a matter impossible; exhorting neverthelesse to obey him in any other thing. This sentence being pronounced by such a King, Calista was disappointed, the parents confounded, and Lisander desparate, who casting himselfe at his Ladies feete, with teares in his eyes, spake in this manner: I see that after so many labours and hazzards, for a reward of my fide­lity, which is beyond that of all lovers, I must finde ingrati­tude, in a heart which hath alwaies promised me never to be capable thereof; and that for having adored you, I suffer such usage as I should have deserved if I had done the contrary. I will not dispute with you whether it be with justice, for that were to seeke reason in love; and your will holding in mee [Page 245] the place of reason and law, doth binde me to beleeve against my proper feeling, that what you doe is just: but if you do not thinke that the services which I have done are injuries, I doe most humbly entreat you, Madam, to tell mee here in this most illustrious company, what offence I have com­mitted, and let not my condition be worse than that of cri­minall persons, unto whom the cause of their punishment is (at the least) told before they suffer any: And if I doe re­pent my services here, it is not to reproach you, but to shew that in serving you, I have not beene so unhappy as to offend you. You may thinke what you please, but I must needes thinke, that you might better have acknowledged them, than I could better have addressed them; and God forbid, Madam, that ever I should complaine the time which I have lost in your service, since it hath bin emploied according unto my intention, which was to honour you. It is true, Ma­dam, that herein I have done but my duty, yet I do not know that I have committed any fault; and it is no small matter to pay all that one owes, especially unto one unto whom all is owing; neverthelesse, since together with the eternall affecti­ons, which you have so solemnely promised, I must lose the greatest happines that ever I hoped for in this world, I will leave with you (if you please) this remembrance of you [...] Lisan­der, that he is not sorry he hath suffered so much, and is glad he hath not deserved this suffering. Live therefore satisfied and contented with my misfortune, and beleeve it shall be a com­fort unto mee in all my miseries, to heare that they doe bring you contentment. I only ask your permission to endure them, and to honour you at the least in holding my peace, and in hiding in the secret of my heart that which you cannot take away but in appearance. To conclude, Madam, I will not complaine of you, but of my fortune which maketh your pitty dumbe, and changeth your nature without changing my affection, thereby shewing that it is not subject unto the change of her wheele. And I should think my selfe unthank­full, if in this my complaint, I did not give her thankes, that by my destiny being reserved unto such cruell mischiefes, she hath ordained, that they should come from your hand, Ma­dam, [Page 246] whose cruelty I have loved more than my life, and whose despising I doe honour in the pangs of death, doe me this last office, and beare this pitifull testimony of your Knight, That he had lived longer, if he had beene lesse faith­full.

This his long speech ended with their Majesties incredi­ble patience, who were pleased to heare him, and no lesse disquiet in Lisanders friends, who feared he would never get out to his advantage. It was a pleasant spectacle to see them in one instant to shed teares for joy, Lisander for love, and Ca­lista out of pity, upon whose answer depended the misery or happinesse of their lives; who having consulted some time with her selfe, her heart inflamed with love, & her face with shame, in the end answered in this manner: It is true, most deare Lisander, that I have promised you never to be capable of ingratitude; and if I have beene so untill this time (in re­gard of the cause which you have given me) I will not be so now, you having taken the cause away. Wherfore pardon me the evils which you have suffered, seeing that I my selfe first felt them, and in respect they will serve to be so many witnes­ses of your fidelity, & will make the injoying which we shall have one of the other, so much the sweeter, by how much we have indured the more. And seeing their Majesties do suffer me, my parents command me, & your services do oblige me, I do confirme in this most excellent presence and assembly, the oath which particularly I have made unto you, that I will be onely yours.

In saying this Calista gave him her hand, which he most a­morously kissed, blessing the evils which hee had suffered for so great a good. And the contentment of these two lo­vers, not being able to bee contained in themselves, spread through all the company, renewing imbracings with joy, which was then pure, without any mixture of sorrow or feare, if this word Joy be not too weake a word to expresse the feelings which cannot be spoken, hardly comprehended. Who can tell the divers motions of so many persons, who had a part in this common rejoycing? Verascus his astonish­ment, Berontus his admiration, as also of Hippolita and Lu­cidan? [Page 247] who can speake of the infinite pleasure of Alcidon and Lidian, of Olinda and Argire, of Ambrisia and Otranta, and the unspeakable pleasure of Dorilas and Adrastus? These two lat­ter, having long embraced Lisander & Calista, snatching them one from another, and imbracing them between them with teares, as those who after a dangerous storme, having escaped shipwracke, doe meet upon the dry land in uncredible joy: To increase which, Lisander knowing the love which Luci­dan bore unto Hippolita, most humbly entreated the King to marry them together, and after turning to Adrastus, made the like request unto him, in favour of Berontus and Ambrisia. Then looking unto Argire and Alcidon, Lidian and Olinda, he entreated them that as they had suffered great griefe and sor­row with him, so they would honour him so much, as to let one day give an end unto all their troubles, and one day by marriage a beginning unto their joyes.

By this meanes the Marriages were resolved to bee in one day finished between Alcidon and Argire, Lidian and Olinda, of Lucidan and Hippolita, of Berontus and Ambrisia, and of brave Lisander and Calista, who humbly taking leave of their Maje­sties, retired all together to Dorilas and Adrastus, who, as we have said, had but one house, where after a magnifick supper, they gave themselves unto their rests, expecting the next mor­ning with longing; which being come, all of them most rich­ly apparelled, especially Calista, who having ever since Clean­ders death neglected her attire, now (richly beset with jewels, and with that rich collar which Lisander had conquered in great Britaine) drew all the eyes of the beholders upon her with admiration. They were solemnly married in the Chap­pell of Burpon, where I will leave them, returning home with wishes of the people, that they might long and peace­ably, after so many alarums and stormes, enjoy the deare de­lights, and sweetest pleasures of this life.