Volume 2 — The Palace of Pleasure. (continued 6)

Que brantare la fe, es causa muy fea.

That is, To violate or breake fayth, is a thing detestable.

That only inscription made him to pause a while. For it was the Poesie that Dom Diego bore ordinarily in his armes, which moued him to think that without doubt one of those Pilgrimes was the very same man to whom that Saddle did appertayne. And therefore he bent himselfe very attentiuely afterwardes to behold first the one, and then the other of those desert Citizens. But they were so altered, as hee was not able to know them agayne. Dom Diego seeing his Freende so neare him, and the desire that he had to knowe hym, chafed very mutch in hys mynde, and the more his Rage began to waxe, when hee saw Roderico approch neare vnto hym more aduisedly to looke vpon hym, for hee had not his own Affections so mutch at commaundement, but hys Bloude mooued hys Entrailes, and mounting into the most knowen place, caused outwardly the alteration which hee endured, to appeare. Roderico seeing hym to chaunge colour, was assured of that which before hee durst not suspect: and that which made him the sooner beleeue that he was not deceived, was a lyttle tuft of haire, so yelow as Gold, which Dom Diego had vpon his Necke, whereof Dom Roderico takyng heede, gaue ouer all suspition, and was well assured of that he doubted. And therefore displaying himselfe with hys armes opened vpon the necke of his friend, and imbracing him very louingly, his face bedewed with tears, sayd vnto him: “Alas, my Lord Dom Diego, what euill lucke from Heauen hath departed you from the good company of them which dye for sorrow, to see themselues berieued of the Beauty, lyght and ornament of their felowship? What are they that haue giuen you occasion thus to Eclipse the bryghtnesse of your name, when it oughte most clearely to shyne, both for theyr present pleasure, and for the honour of your age? Is it from me sir, that you oughte thus to hide yourselfe? Do you think me so to be blynd, that I know not ryght well, that you are Dom Diego, that is so renoumed for vertue and prowesse? I would not haue tarried here so longe, but to carry away a power to reioyce two persons, you being the one, by withdrawing your selfe from this heauy and vnseemely Wyldernesse, and my selfe the other, to enioy your Company, and by bearyng newes to your fryends, who sith your departure, do bewaile and lament the same.” Dom Diego seeing that he was not able to conceyle the truth of that which was euidently seene, and the louing imbracements of his best Friende, began to feele a certayne tendernesse of heart lyke vnto that whych the Mother conceyueth, when she recouereth hir Sonne that is long absent, or the chaste wyfe, the presence of hir deare Husband, when she clepeth him betwene hir armes, and frankely culleth and cherisheth hym at hir pleasure. For whych cause not able to refrain any longer for ioy and sorrow together, weping and sighing began to imbrace him wyth so good and hearty affection, as with good wyl the other had sought and longed to knowe where he was. And being come againe to himself, he sayd to his faithfull and most louinge friend: “Oh God, how vneasy and difficult be thy iudgments to comprehend? I had thought to liue here miserably, vnknowen to al the world, and behold, I am here discouered, when I thought least of it. I am indeede” (quod he to Roderico) “that wretched and vnfortunate Dom Diego, euen that thy very great and louing fryend, who weary of his lyfe, afflycted wyth his vnhap, and tormented by fortune, is retyred into these desertes to accomplysh the ouerplus of the rest of his il luck. Now sith that I haue satisfied you herein, I beseech you that being content wyth my sighte, yee wyll get you hence and leaue me heere to performe that lyttle remnant whych I haue to lyue, without telling to any person that I am aliue, or yet to manifeste the place of my abode.” “What is that you say sir,” (sayd Roderico) “are you so farre straught from your ryght wits, to haue a minde to continue this brutal Lyfe, to depryue al your friends from the ioy whych they receiue by inioying your company? Think I pray you that God hath caused vs to be born noble men, and hauing power and authority not to lyue in Corners, or be buryed amid the slauery of the popular sort, or remain idle within great palaces or secrete Corners, but rather to illustrat and giue lyght with the example of our vertue to those that shal apply themselues to our dexterity of good behauior, and do lyue as depending vpon our edicts and commaundments: I appeale to your faith, what good shall succede to your subiects, who haue both heard and also knowne the benefit bestowed vppon them by God, for that hee gaue them a Lord so modest and vertuous, and before they haue experimented the effect of his goodnesse and Vertue, depriued of him, that is adorned and garnished with sutch perfections? What comfort, contentation and ioy shall the Lady your mother receiue, by feelyng your losse to be so sodaine, after your good and delycate bryngyng up, instructed with sutch great diligence and vtterly berieued of the fruict of that education? It is you sir, that may commaund obedience to Parents, succor to the afflicted, and do iustice to them that craue it: Alas, they be your poore subiectes that make complaints, euen of you, for denying them your due presence. It is you of whom my good madame doth complayne, as of him that hath broken and violated his faith, for not comming home at the promised day.” Now as he was about to continue his oration, Dom Diego vnwilling to heare him, brake of his talk saying: “Ah sir, and my great Friend: It is an easy matter for you to iudge of mine affayres, and to blame myne absence, not knowing peraduenture the cause thereof. But I esteeme you a man of so good iudgement, and so great a fryend of thinges that be honeste, and a Gentleman of great fidelity, as by vnderstanding my hard luck, when you be aduertised of the cause of my withdrawing into this solitarie place, you wyll rightly confesse, and playnely see that the wisest and most constant haue committed more vaine follies than those don by mee, forced with like spirite that now moueth and tormenteth me.” Hauing sayd, he tooke aside Roderico, where he dyd tell vnto hym the whole discourse both of his Loue, and also of the rigor of hys Lady, not without weepyng, in sutch abundaunce and with sutch frequent sighes and sobs interruptyng so hys speach, as Roderico was constrained to keepe him company, by remembryng the obstinacie of hir that was the Mistresse of his heart, and thinkynge that already he had seene the effect of lyke missehap to fal vpon his owne head, or neare vnto the lyke, or greater distresse than that which he sawe his deare and perfect Fryend to endure. Notwythstanding he assayed to remoue him from that desperate minde and opinion of continuance in the desert. But the froward penitente swore vnto him, that so long as he liued (without place recouered in the good graces of his Gineura,) he would not returne home to his house, but rather change his being, to seke more sauage abode, and lesse frequented than that was. “For” (quod hee) “to what purpose shall my retourne serue where continuinge mine affection, I shall fele lyke cruelty that I dyd in time past, which wil bee more painful and heauy for me to beare than voluntary exile and banyshment, or bring me to that end wherein presently I am.” “Contente your self I beseech you, and suffer me to be but once vnhappy, and do not perswade mee to proue a second affliction, worsse than the first.” Roderico hearing his reasons so liuely and wel applied would not reply, onely content that he would make him promyse to tarry there two monthes, and in that time attempt to reioyse himselfe so wel as he could. And for hys owne part, he swore vnto him, that he would bee a meanes to reconcile Gineura, and brynge them to talke together. Moreouer, he gaue him assurance by othe, that hee shoulde not bee discouered by hym, nor by any in his Company. Wherewith the knyght somewhat recomforted, thanked him very affectuously. And so leauyng wyth him a fielde bed, two seruaunts, and Money for his Necessities, Roderico tooke hys leaue, tellyng hym that shortely he would visite him againe, to his great contentation, as euer he was left and forsaken with gryefe and sorrow, himselfe makyng great mone for the vnseemely state and myserable plyght of Dom Diego. And God knoweth whether by the way, he detested the cruelty of pitilesse Gineura, blasphemyng a million of times the whole sexe of Womankynd, peraduenture not without iust cause. For there lieth hydden (I know not what) in the brests of Women, which at times like the Wane and increase of the Moone, doth chaunge and alter, whereof a man can not tell on what foote to stand to conceiue the reasons of the same: whych fickle fragility of theirs (I dare not say mobility) is sutch, as the subtillest wench of them al best skilled in Turner’s Art, can not (I say deface) or so mutch as hide or colour that naturall imperfection. Roderico arriued at his house, frequented many times the lodging of Gineura, to espy hir fashions, and to see if any other had conquered that place, that was so well assayled and besieged by Dom Diego. And this wyse and sage knyght vsed the matter so well, that he fell in acquaintance wyth one of the Gentlewoman’s Pages, in whom she had so great trust, as she conceyled from him very few of hir greatest secretes, not well obseruing the preceipte of the wyse man, who councelleth vs not to tell the secretes of the mynde to those, whose iudgement is but weake, and tongue very lauish and frank of speach. The Knyght then familiar with this Page, dandled him so with faire words, as by lyttle and lytle he wrong the Wormes out of his Nose, and vnderstode that when Gineura began once to take Pepper in snuffe against Dom Diego, she fell in loue wyth a Gentleman of Biskaye, very poore, but Beautyfull, young and lustye, whych was the Stewarde of the house: and the Page added further that hee was not then there, but woulde returne wythin three Dayes, as he had sent Woorde to hys mystresse, and that two other Gentlemen woulde accompany him to cary away Gineura into Biskaye, for that was their last conclusion: “And I hope” (quod he) “that she will take me with hir, bicause I am made priuy to their whole intent.” Roderico hearing the treason of this flight and departure of the vnfaithful daughter, was at the first brunt astonned, but desirous that the Page should not marke his altered Countenaunce, said vnto him: “In very deede meete it is, that the Gentlewoman should make hir owne choice of husband, sith hir mother so little careth to prouide for hir. And albeit that the Gentleman be not so riche and Noble as hir estate deserueth, hir affection in that behalfe ought to suffise and the honesty of his person: for the rest Gineura hath (thanks be to God) wherewith to intertaine the state of them both.” These wordes he spake, farre from the thought of his hearte. For being alone by himself, thus he said: “O blessed God, how blinde is that loue, which is vnruled, and out of order: and what dispayre to recline to them, which (voide of reason) doe feede so foolishly of vayne thoughts and fond desires, in sutch wise as two commodities, presented vnto them, by what ill lucke I know not, they forsake the beste, and make choise of the worst. Ah Gineura, the fairest Lady in all this Countrey, and the moste vnfaithfull Woman of oure time, where be thine eyes and iudgement? Whither is thy mynde straied and wandred, to acquite thyselfe from a great Lord, faire, rich, noble, and vertuous, to be giuen to one that is poore, whose parents be vnknowne, his prowesse obscure, and birth of no aparant reputation. Behold, what maketh me beleue, that loue (so wel as Fortune) is not onely blynd, but also dazeleth the sight of them that hee imbraceth and captiuateth vnder his power and bondage. But I make a vowe (false woman) that it shal neuer come to passe and that this Biskaye gentleman shall neuer enioy the spoyles whych iustely bee due vnto the Trauaile and faithfull seruice of the valyaunt and vertuous knyght Dom Diego. It shal be hee, or else I wil dye for it, whych shall haue the recompense of his troubles, and shall feele the caulme of that tempest, whych presently holdeth hym at Anker, amyd the most daungerous rockes that euer were.” By this meanes Roderico knew the way how to keepe promise wyth his friende, which liued in expectation of the same. The two dayes past, whereof the Page had spoken, the beloued of Gineura, fayled not to come, and with him two Gallants of Biskaye, valiaunt Gentlemen, and well exercysed in Armes. That Nighte Roderico wente to see the olde Wydowe Lady, the Mother of the Mayden, and fyndyng oportunity to speak to the Page, hee said vnto hym: “I see my Friend, accordingly as thou diddest tell mee, that ye are vppon departing, the steward of the house beeing now retourned. I pray the tel mee, if thou haue neade of mee, or of any thyng that I am able doe for thee, assuring thee that thou shalt obtaine and haue what so euer thou requirest. And therewithall I haue thought good to tel thee, and giue the warning (for thine owne sake specially) that thou keepe all thynges close and secrete, that no slaunder or dishonour do followe, to blot and deface the Same and prayse of thy Mistresse. And for my selfe I had rather dye, than once to open my mouth, to discouer the least intent of this enterpryse. But tell mee, I praye thee, when do ye depart?” “Sir” (quod the Page) “as my Mistresse saieth, to morow about ten or eleuen of the Clocke in the Euening, when the Lady hir Mother shall bee in the sound of hir first sleepe.” The knight hearyng that, and desirous of no better time, tooke hys leaue of the Page, and went home, where he caused to bee sente for tenne or twelue Gentlemen, his Neighbours and Tenaunts, whom he made priuy of his secretes, and partakers of that he went about, to deliuer out of Captiuity and miserie the chiefest of all his Friends. The Nighte of those two Louers departure being come, Dom Roderico, which knewe the way where they should passe, bestowed him selfe and his Company in Ambush, in a little Groue, almost three Miles of the Lodging of this fugitiue Gentlewoman: where they hadde not long tarried but they hearde the tramplinge of Horsse, and a certaine whispring noise of People riding before them. Nowe the Nighte was somwhat cleare, which was the cause, that the Knighte amonges the thronge, knew the Gentlewoman, besides whome rode the Miserable Wretche that hadde stolne hir awaye. Whome so soone as Roderico perceyued full of despyte, moued wyth extreme passion, welding his launce into his rest, brake in the nearest way vpon the infortunate louer, with sutch vehemency, as neither coate of Maile or Placard was able to saue his lyfe, or warraunt him to keepe company wyth that troupe which banded vnder loue’s Enseigne, was miserably slayne, by the guide of a blynd, naked, and thieuish litle boy. And when he saw he had done that he came for, he sayd to the rest of the Company: “My Friends, thys man was carelesse to make inuasion vpon other mens ground.” These poore Biskayes surprysed vpon the sodayne, and seeyng the ambushment to multiply, put spurres to theyr horsse to the best aduantage they could for expedition, leauing their Conduct or guid gaping for breath and geuing a signe that he was dead. Whiles the other were making themselues ready to runne away, two of Roderico his men, couered with Skarfes, armed, and vnknowne, came to sease vppon sorrowfull Gineura, who beholdyng her fryende deade, began to weepe and crye so straungely, as it was maruell that hir breath fayled not. “Ah trayterous Theeues,” (said she) “and bloudy Murderers, why do ye not addresse your selues to execute cruelty vppon the rest, sith you haue done to death hym, that is of greater value than you all? Ah my deare Fryend, what crooked and grieuous Fortune haue I, to see thee grouelyng dead on ground and I abyding in life, to be the pray of murderous Theeues and thou so cowardly beryued of lyfe.” Roderico wyth his face couered, drew neare vnto her, and sayde: “I beseech you Gentlewoman, to forget these straunge fashions of complaynt, sith by them ye bee not able to reuiue the dead, ne yet make your ende of gryefes.” The maiden knowing the voyce of hym, that had slayne hir fryende, began to cry out more fiercely than before. For whych cause one of the gentlemen in company with Roderico, hauing a blacke counterfait beard with two lunets, in manner of spectacles, very large and great, that couered the moste part of his Face, approched neare the bashful maiden, and with bigge voice and terrible talk, holding his dagger vpon hir white and delicate breast, said vnto hir: “I sweare by the Almighty God, if I heare thee speake one word more, I wil sacrifice thee vnto the ghost of that varlet, for whome thou makest thy mone, who deserued to end his daies vpon a gallow tree rather than by the hands of a gentleman. Holde thy peace therefore thou foolysh girle, for greater honour and more ample Benefite is meant to thee, than thou hast deserued. Ingratitude onely hath so ouerwhelmed thy good Nature, as thou art not able to iudge who be thy friends.” The gentlewoman fearing death, whych as she thought was present, held hir peace, downe alonges whose Eyes a ryuer of Teares dyd run, and the passion of whose heart appeared by assiduall sighes, and neuer ceassing sobbes, whych in end so quallifyed hir cheare, that the exteriour sadnesse was wholy inclosed wythin the mynd and thought of the afflicted Gentlewoman. Then Roderico caused the body of the dead to be buryed in a lyttle Countrey Chappell, not farre out of theyr way. Thus they trauayled two dayes before Gineura knew any of them, that had taken hir away from hir louer: who permytted none to speake vnto hir nor she to any of hir company, beyng but a waiting maid, and the page that hadde dyscouered al the secretes to Dom Roderico. A notable example surely for stolne and secrete mariages, whereby the honour of the contracted partes, is most commonly blemyshed, and the Commaundement of God violated, whose word enioyneth obedience to Parents in all ryghtfull causes, who if for any lyght offence, they haue power to take from vs the inheritance whych otherwyse naturall law would giue vs, what ought they of duety to doe, where rebellyous Chyldren abusing theyr goodnesse, do consume without feare of Liberty, the thynge that is in theyr free wyll and gouernement. In like maner diuers vndiscrete and folysh mothers are to be accused, which suffer their daughters of tender and chyldysh age to be enamored of theyr seruants, not remembryng how weake the flesh is, how prone and ready men be to do euyl, and how the seducyng spirite wayting stil vpon us, is procliue and prone to surpryse and catch vs wythin his Snares, to the intent he may reioyce in the ruine of soules washed and redeemed wyth the bloud of the Son of God. This troupe drawing neare to the caue of Dom Diego, Roderico sent one of his men to aduertise him of their comming, who in the absence of his fryende, fylled and susteined with hope, shortely to see the onely Lady of hys hearte, accompanyed wyth a merry and ioyfull Trayne, so soone as hee had somewhat chaunged his wilde maner of Lyfe, he also by lyttle and lyttle gayned a good part of hys lusty and fresh coloure, and almost had recouered that beauty, which he had when he firste became a Citizen of those desertes. Now hauiug vnderstanded the message sent vnto him by Roderico, God knoweth if with that pleasaunt tydings he felt a motion of Bloud, sutch as made all his members to leape and daunce, whych rendred hys Mynde astonned, for the onely memorye of the thynge that poysed hys mynd vp and downe, not able to be wayed in equall Balaunce whereof rather he ought to haue made reioyse than complayne, being assured to see hir, of whome he demaunded onely grace and pardon, but for recouery of hir, he durst not repose any certayne Iudgement. In the Ende hoystyng vp hys head lyke one rysen from a long and sound sleepe, hee sayd: “Praise be to God, who yet before I dye, hath done me great pleasure, to suffer me to haue a syght of hir, that by causing my Matirdome, continueth hir stubburne manner of Lyfe, whych shall procure in like sort myne vtter ruine and decay. Vpon the approch of whom I shall goe more ioyfull, charged with incomparable loue, to vysit the ghosts beneath, in the presence of that cruel swete, that now tormenteth me with the ticklysh tentation, and who sometimes hath made me tast a kind of Hony sugred with bytter Gal, more daungerous than the suck of Poyson and vnder the vermyllion rudde of a new sprouted Rose diuiuely blowen forth, hath hydden secrete Thornes the pryckes whereof hath me so lyuely touched, as my Wound cannot well bee cured, by any Baulme that may be thereunto applyed, without enioying of that myne owne missehappe, moste happy or wythout that remedy, whych almost I feele restyng in death, that so long and oftentymes I haue desired as the true remedy of all my paynes and gryefe.” In the meane whyle Dom Roderico, whych tyll that tyme was not knowen vnto Gineura, drew neare vnto hir by the way as he rode, and talked wyth hir in this sorte: “I doubt not (Gentlewoman) but that you think your self not wel contented to se me in this place, in sutch company and for occasion so vnseemely for my degre, and state, and moreouer knowying what iniury I seeme to do vnto you, that euer was, and am so affectionate and friendly to the whole stocke of your race and Lynage, and am not ignoraunte that vppon the firste brunte you may iudge my cause vniust to carry you away from the handes of your fryend, to bring you into these desertes, wylde, and solitary places. But if ye considred the force of that true amity, which by vertue sheweth the common Bondes of hearts and myndes of Men, and shall measure to what end this acte is done, without to mutch staying vpon the lyght apprehension of Choler, for a beginnynge somewhat troublesom, I am assured then (that if you be not wholly depryued of reason) you shall perceiue that I am not altogether worthy blame nor your selfe vtterly voyde of fault. And bycause we draw neare vnto the place, whether (by the help of God) I meane to conduct you, I beseech you to consider, that the true Seruaunt whych by all seruice and duety studieth to execute the commaundementes of him that hath puissance ouer him, doth not deserue to bee beaten or driuen away from the house of his maister, but to be fauored and cherished, and ought to receyue equal recompense for his seruice. I speake not this for my selfe, my deuotion beinge vowed elsewhere, but for that honest affection which I beare to all vertuous and chaste persons. The effect whereof I will not deny to tell you in tyme and place, where I shall use sutch modesty towards you, as is meete for a maiden of your age and state. For the greatnesse of Noble Men and puisant, doth most appeare and shew forth it self, when they vse Mildenesse and Gentlenesse vnto those, to whom by reason of their Authority they mighte execute cruelty and malice. Now to the end that I do not make you doubtfull long, al that which I haue done and yet meane to doe, is for none other purpose but to ease the grieuous paines of that moste faithful louer that loueth at thys Daye vnder the Circle of the Moone. It is for the good Knighte Dom Diego, that loueth you so dearely and still worshippeth your Noble fame, who bicause he wil not shew himself disobedient, liueth miserably amonge bruite beasts, amid the craggy rocks and mountaines, and in the deepe solitudes of comfortlesse dales and valleis. It is to him I say that I do bryng you, protesting vnto you by othe (Gentlewoman) that the misery wherein I saw him, little more than VI. Wekes past, toucheth me so neare the heart, as if the Sacrifice of my lyfe sufficed alone, (and without letting you to feele this painfull voyage) for the solace of his martirdome I would spare it no more, than I do mine owne endeuor and honor, besides the hazarding of the losse of your good grace and fauour. And albeit I wel perceiue, that I do grieue you, by causing you to enter this painfull iourney, yet I besech you that the whole displeasure of this fact may bee imputed vnto my charge, and that it would please you louingly to deale with him, who for your sake vseth so great violence against himself.” Gineura as a woman half in despayre for the death of hir friend, behaued hir selfe like a mad woman void of wit and sense, and the simple remembraunce of Dom Diego his name so astonned her, (which name she hated far more than the pangs of death) that she staied a long time, hir mouth not able to shape one word to speake. In the ende vanquished with impacience, burning with choler, and trembling for sorrow, loked vpon Dom Roderico with an Eye no lesse furious, than a Tigresse caught within the Net, and seeth before hir face hir young Fawnes murdered, wringing hir hands and beating hir delicate brest, she vsed these or sutch like woordes: “Ah bloudy traitor and no more Knight, is it of thee that I oughte to looke for so detestable a villany and treason? How darest thou be so hardy to entreat me for an other, that hast in myne owne presence killed him, whose death I will pursue vpon thee, so longe as I haue life within this body? Is it to thee false theefe and murderer, that I ought to render accompte of that which I meant to doe? Who hath appointed thee to be arbitrator, or who gaue thee commission to capitulate the Articles of my mariage? Is it by force then, that thou wouldest I should loue that vnfaithfull Knighte, for whom thou hast committed and done this acte, that so longe as thou liuest shal blot and blemish thy renoume, and shal be so wel fixed in my mind, and the wounds shal cleaue so neare my heart, vntill at my pleasure I be reuenged of this wrong? No, no, I assure thee no force done vnto mee, shall neuer make mee otherwyse dysposed, than a mortall Enimy both to thee which art a Theefe and rauisher of an other man’s wife, and also to thy desperate frend Dom Diego, which is the cause of this my losse: and now not satisfied with the former wrong done vnto me, thou goest about to deceiue me vnder the Colour of good and pure Friendship. But sith wicked Fortune hath made me thy Prysoner, doe with me what thou wylt, and yet before I suffer and endure that that Traytor Dom Diego doe enioy my Virginity, I will offer vp my lyfe to the shadowes and Ghostes of my faythful fryend and husband, whome thou hast so trayterously murdred. And therefore (if honestlye I may or ought entreate mine Enimy) I pray thee that by doynge thy duety, thou suffer vs in peace, and gyue lycence to mee, thys Page, and my two pore Maydens to depart whether we lyst.” “God forbid” (quod Roderico) “that I should doe a Trespasse so shamefull, as to depryue my dearest fryend of his ioy and contentation, and by falsifiing my faith be an occasion of hys death, and of your losse, by leauing you without company, wandring amids this wildernesse.” And thus he continued his former discourse and talk, to reclaime thys cruell Damosell to haue pity vpon hir poore penytent, but he gained as mutch thereby, as if he had gone aboute to number the Sands alongs the Sea Coastes of the maine Ocean. Thus deuising from one talke to an other, they arryued neare the Caue, which was the stately house of Dom Diego: where Gineura lyghted, and saw the pore amorous Knight, humbly falling downe at hir feete, all forworne, pale, and disfigured, who weeping with warme teares, said vnto hir: “Alas, my deare Lady, the alone and onely mistresse of my heart, do you not thinke that my penaunce is long inoughe for the sinne which ignorauntly I haue committed, if euer I haue don any fault at al? Behold [I beseech you (good ladie deare) what ioy] I haue conceiued in your absence, what pleasures haue nursed mine hope, and what consolation hath entertained my life: which truely had it not bene for the continual remembraunce of your diuine Beauty, I had of long time abreuiated the pains which do renew in me so many times the pangs of death: as oftentimes I think vpon the vnkindnes shewed vnto me by making so litle accompt of my fidelity: whych can nor shal receiue the same in good part, wer it so perfect as any assuraunce were able to make it.” Gineura swelling with sorrow and full of feminine rage, blushing with fury, hir eyes sparcklinge forth hir chollerick conceypts, vouchsafed not so mutch as to giue him one word for aunswere, and bicause she would not looke vppon him, she turned hir face on the other side. The poore and afflicted Louer, seeing the great cruelty of his felonous Mystresse, still kneeling vpon his knees, redoubling his armes, fetching Sighes with a voyce that seemed to bee drawne by force from the bottome of his heart, proceeded in these wordes: “Syth the sincerity of my fayth, and my long seruice madame Gineura, cannot persuade you that I haue beene most Obedient, Faythfull, and very Loyall seruaunt towards you, as euer any that hath serued Lady or Gentlewoman, and that without your fauour and grace it is vnpossible for mee any longer to liue, yet I doe very humbly beseech you, for that all other comfort is denied me, if there bee any gentlenesse and curtesie in you, that I may receyue this onely grace at your hands for the last that euer I hope to craue: which is, that you being thus greeuously offended with me, would do iustice vpon that vnfortunate man, that vpon his Knees doth instantly craue the same. Graunt (cruell mistresse) this my request, doe vengeaunce at your pleasure vpon him, which willingly yeldeth himselfe to death with the effusion of his poore innocent bloud to satisfy you, and verily farre more expedient it is for him thus to die, by appeasing your wrath, than to rest or liue to your discontentment or anoiaunce. Alas, shal I be so vnfortunate, that both life and death should bee denied me by one person of the world, whom I hoped to content and please by any sort or meanes what so euer restinge in mine humble obedience? Alas gentlewoman rid mee from this Torment, and dispatch your selfe from the griefe you haue to see this vnhappy Knight, who would say and esteeme himselfe most happy (his life being lothsome vnto you) if he may content you, by death done by your owne handes, sith other fauour he cannot expect or hope for.” The Mayden hardned in hir Opinion, stoode still immoueable mutch like vnto a Rocke in the midst of the Sea, disquieted with a tempest of billowes, and fomy Waues in sutch wise as one word could not be procured from hir mouth. Which vnlucky Dom Diego perceyuing, attached with the feare of present death, and faylinge his Naturall force fell downe to the Grounde, and faintyng saied: “Ah, what a recompence doe I receiue for this so faythfull Loue?” Roderico bebolding that rufull sight, whilest the others went about to relieue Dom Diego, repaired to Gineura, and full of heauinesse mingled with fury, said vnto hir: “By God (false fiendish woman) if so be that I doe chaunge my mind, I will make thee feele the smarte, no lesse than thou shewest thy selfe dishonourable to them that doe thee honour: Art thou so carelesse of so greate a Lord as this is, that humbleth himselfe so lowe to sutch a strumpet as thou art: who without regarde either to hys renoume, or the honour of his House, is content to bee abandoned from his noble state, to become a fugitiue and straunger? What cruelty is this for thee to mispryse the greatest humility that man can Imagin? What greater amends canst thou wysh to haue, yea though the offence which thou presupposest had ben true? Now (if thou be wyse) chaunge thy Opinion, except thou wouldest haue mee doe into so many pieces, thy cruel corpse and vnfaithful heart, as once this poore Knight did in parts the vnhappy hauke, which through thy folly did breede vnto him this distresse, and to thy self the name of the most cruell and disloyall Woman that euer lyued. But what greater benefite can happen vnto thee, than to see thys Gentleman vtterly to forget the fault, to conceiue no sinister suspition of thy running away, crauing pardon at thy Hands, and is contented to sacrifice him self vnto thine Anger, to appease and mytigate thy rage? Now to speake no more hereof, but to proceede in that which I began to say, I offer vnto thee then both death and Loue, choose whether thou lyst. For I sweare againe by hym that seeth and heareth all thinges, that if thou play the foole, that thou shalt feele and proue me to be the cruellest Ennimy that euer thou hadst: and sutch a one as shall not feare to imbrue his hands wyth the bloud of hir that is the death of the greatest friend I haue, and truest knight that euer bare armes.” Gineura hearing that resolute aunswere, shewed hir selfe to be nothing afrayde nor declared any token of feare, but rather seemed to haue encouraged Roderico, in braue and mannish sort, farre diuers from the simplicity of a young and tender Mayden, as a Man would say, sutch a one as had neuer felt the assaultes and troubles of adverse fortune. Wherefore frouncyng her Browes, and grating hir Teeth wyth closed fists, and Countenaunce very bold, she made him answere: “Ah thou Knight, whych once gauest assault to commit a villany and Treason thinkest thou now without remorse of conscyence to continue thy mischyefe: I speak it to thee Villayne, whych hauing shed the Bloud of an honester Man than thou art, fearest not now to make me a Companion of hys Death. Which thyng spare not hardily to accomplysh, to the intent that I liuinge, may not be sutch a one as thou falsly iudgest me to be: for neuer Man hitherto vaunted, and never shall, that hath had the spoyle of my dearest Iewell: from the Fruict whereof, like an arrant Thiefe, thou hast depryued my loyall Spouse. Now doe what you lyste: for I am farre better content to suffer death, be it as cruel as thou art mischieuous, and borne for the disquieting and vexation of honest Maidens then yelde vnto thy furies: notwithstanding I humbly beseech Almyghty God, to gyue thee so mutch pleasure, contentation and ioy in thy loue, as thou hast done to me, by hastening the death of my deare Husband. O God, if thou be a iust God, sutch a one, as from whom we thy poore Creatures do beleue al iustice to proceede, thou I say which art the Rampire and refuge of al iustice, poure downe thy vengeance and plague vpon these pestiferous Thieues and murderers, which prepared a worldely plague vpon me thine innocent damsel. Ah wycked Roderico, think not that death can be so fearful vnto me, but that with good heart, I am able to accept the same, trusting verily that one day it shal be the cause of thy ruine, and the ouerthrowe of him for whom thou takest al these paines.” Dom Roderico maruelously rapte in sense imagined the Woman to be fully bente against hym, who then had puissance (as he thought,) ouer hir own heart: and thinking, that he sawe hir moued with like rage against him, as she was against Dom Diego, stode stil so perplexed and voyde of ryghte minde, as he was constrained to sitte downe, so feeble he felt him self for the onely remembraunce of hir euyll demeanor. And whilest this Pageant was a doing, the handmayd of Gineura, and hir page, inforced to persuade their mystresse to haue compassion vpon the Knight that had suffred so mutch for hir sake, and that she would consent to the honest requests and good counsell of Roderico. But she which was stubbornely bent in hir fonde persuasions, made them aunsere: “What fooles? are you so mutch bewitched, eyther with the fayned teares of this disloyall Knight, whych colorably thus doth torment himselfe, or els are yee inchaunted with the venomous honny and tirannicall brauery of the Theefe which murdered my husbande, and your mayster? Ah vnhappy caytife mayden, is it my chaunce to endure the assault of sutch Fortune, when I thought to liue at my best ease, and thus cruelly to tomble into the handes of him, whom I hate so mutch as he fayneth loue vnto me? And moreouer my vnlucky fate is not herewith content, but redoubleth my sorrowe, euen by those that be of my trayne, who ought rather to incourage mee to dy, than consent to so vnreasonable requests. Ah loue, loue, how euill be they recompenced which faythfully doe Homage vnto thee? And why should not I forget all Affection, neuer hereafter to haue mynde on man to proue beginning of a pleasure, which tasted and felt bringeth more displeasure than euer ioy engendreth delight. Alas, I neuer knewe what was the fruicte of that which so straungely did attach me, and thou O trayterous and theeuishe Loue, haste ordayned a banket serued with sutch bitter dishes, as forced I am perforce to taste of their egre sweetes: Auaunt sweete folly, auaunt, I doe henceforth for euer let thee slip, to imbrace the death, wherein I hope to find my greatest rest, for in thee I finde noughte else but heapes of strayninge Passions. Auoyde from me all mishap, flee from me ye furious ghostes and Fayries most vnkinde, whose gaudes and toyes dame loue hath wrought to keepe occupied my louing minde, and suffer me to take ende in thee, that I may liue in an other life without thee, being now charged with cup of griefe, which I shall quaffe in venomous drincke soaked in the Sops of bitternesse. Sharpen thou thy selfe, (O death vnkinde) prepare thy Darte, to strike the Corpse of hir, that she may voyde the Quarelles shotte agaynst hir by hir Aduersary. Ah poore hearte, strip thy selfe from hope, and qualifie thy desires. Cease henceforth to wishe thy Lyfe, seeing, and feelinge the appoyncted sight of loue and Life, combattyng within my minde, els where to seeke my peace in an other world, with him to ioy, whych for my sake was sacrificed to the treason of varlets handes, who for the perfite hoorde of his desires, noughte else dyd seeke but to soile his bloudy fists with the purest bloude of my loyall friend. And I this floud of Teares do shead to saciate his felonous moode that is the iust shortening of my dolefull Dayes.” When she had thus complayned, she began horribly to torment hir selfe that the cruellest of the company were moued with compassion, to see hir thus strangely straught of hir wits: neuertheles they did not discontinue by duety to solicite hir to haue regard to that which poore fayntyng Dom Diego dyd endure: who so soone as wyth freshe Fountayn water hee was reuiued, seeing still the heauinesse of his Lady, and hir increased disdaine and choler againste hym vanished in diuers soundings: which moued Roderico from studye deepe, wherein he was, to ryse, whereunto the rage of Gineura had cast him downe, bicause forgetting all imaginarie affection of his Lady, and proposing his duety before his eyes, whych ech Gentleman oweth to Gentle Damsels [and womenkind], styll beholding with honorable aspect the gryefe of the martyred wyldernesse Knyght, sighing yet in former gryefes, he sayd vnto Gineura, “Alas, is it possyble, that in the heart of so young and delicate a maiden, there may bee harboured so straunge fury and vnreasonable rage? O God, the effect of the cruelty resting in this Woman, painting it selfe in the imaginatiue force of my mind, hath made me feare the like myssehappe to come to the cruell state of this disaduenturous gentleman? Notwithstanding (O thou cruell beast) thinke not that thys thy fury shall stay me from doing thee to death, to rid thee from follye and disdayne, and this vnfortunate louer from despayre and trouble, verily beleuing, that in tyme it shalbe knowne what profit the World shall gayne by purgyng the same of sutch an infected plague as is an vnkynd and arrogante hearte: and it shall feele what vtility ryseth by thyne ouerthrowe. And I doe hope besydes in tyme to come, that Men shall prayse this deede of myne, who for preseruynge the Honoure of one House, hath chosen rather to doe to death two offenders, than to leaue one of them aliue, to obscure the glory and brightnesse of the other. And therefore” (sayd he, tourning his face to those of his traine,) “cut the throte of this stubborne and froward beast, and doe the like to them that be come with hir, shewe no more fauor vnto them all, than that curssed strumpet doth mercy to the life of that miserable Gentleman, who lieth a dying there for loue of hir.” The Mayden hearing the cruel sentence of hir death, cryed out so loud as she coulde, thinking reskue woulde haue come, but the poore Wench was deceiued: for the desert knew none other, but those that were abiding in that troupe. The Page and the woman seruaunt exclamed vpon Roderico for mercy, but he made as though he heard them not, and rather made signe to his men to do what he commaunded. When Gineura sawe that their deathe was purposed in deede, confirmed in opinion rather to dy, than to obey, she said vnto the executioners: “My friends, I beseech you let not these innocentes abide the penaunce of that which they neuer committed. And you, Dom Roderico, be reuenged on me, by whome the fault, (if a woman’s faith to hir husband may be termed a faulte) is don. And let these infortunate depart, that bee God knoweth guiltles of any cryme. And thou my friend, which liuest amonges the shadowes of faythfull louers, if thou haue any feelinge, as in deede thou prouest being in another world, behold the purenesse of mine heart and fidelity of my loue: who to keep the same inuiolable, do offer my self voluntarily to the death, which this cruell tyrant prepareth for me. And thou hangman the executioner of my ioyes, and murderer of the immortall pleasures of my loue (sayd she to Roderico) glut thy vnsaciable desire of bloud, make dronke thy mind with murder, and boast of thy litle triumph, which for all thy threates or persuasible words, thou canst not get from the heart of a simple maiden, ne cary away the victory for all the battred breach made into the rampare of hir honour.” When she had so said, a Man would haue thought that the memory of death had cooled hir heate, but the same serued hir as an assured solace of hir paynes. Dom Diego being come to himself and seing the discourse of that tragedy, being now addressed to the last act and end of that life and stage of faire and golden locked Gineura, making a vertue of necessity, recouered a lyttle corage to saue, (if it were possible) the life of hir, that had put hys owne in hazard miserably to end. Hauing stayed them that held the maiden, he repayred to Dom Roderico, to whom he spake in this wise: “I see wel my good Lord and great Friende, that the good will you beare me, causeth you to vse this honest order for my behalf, whereof I doubt if I should lyue a whole hundred yeares, I shall not be able to satisfy the least of the bondes wherein I am bound, the same surpassing all mine ability and power. Yet for al that (deare friend) sith you see the fault of this missehap to arise of my predestinate ill lucke, and that man cannot auoyde things once ordained, I beseech you do me yet this good pleasure (for all the benefits that euer I haue receiued) to send back again this gentlewoman with hir trayne, to the place from whence you toke hir, wyth like assurance and conduct, as if shee were your sister. For I am pleased with your endeuor, and contented with my misfortune, assuring you sir besides, that the trouble which she endureth, doth far more gryeue my heart than al the paine which for hir sake I suffer. That hir sorrow then may decrease and mine may renue againe, that she may lyue in peace, and I in Warre for hir cruel beauty sake, I wyll wayt vppon Clotho, the Spynner of the threden life of man vntil she breake the twysted lace that holdeth the fatall course of my dolefull yeares. And you Gentlewoman lyue in rest, as your poore suppliant, wretched Dom Diego, shalbe citizen of wyld places, and vaunt you hardely that yee were the best beloued maiden that euer liued.” Maruellous truly be the forces of loue, when they discouer their perfection, for by their meanes thinges otherwise impossible be reduced to sutch facility, as a man would iudge that they had neuer bene so hard to obtaine, and so painefull to pursue: As appeared by this damsel, in whome the wrath of fortune, the pynche of iealosie, the intollerable rage of hir fryendes losse, had ingendred a contempte of Dom Diego, an extreame desire to be reuenged on Dom Roderico, and a tediousnesse of longer Lyfe. And now putting of the vaile of blynde appetite, for the esclarishing of hir vnderstandyng Eyes, and breakyng the Adamant Rocke planted in the middes of hir breast, she beheld in open sight the stedfastnesse, pacience and perseueration of hir great fryend. For that supplycation of the Knight had greater force in Gineura, than all hys former seruyces. And full wel she shewed the same, when throwyng hir selfe vppon the Necke of the desperate Gentleman, and imbracyng hym very louyngly she sayd vnto him: “Ah sir, that your felicity is the begynnyng of my great ioy of Mynd, whych sauoreth now of sweetnes in the very same, in whom I imagyned to be the welsprynge of bytternesse. The diminutyon of one gryefe is, and shall bee the increase of a bonde, sutch as for euer I wyll call my selfe the moste humble slaue of your honor, lowly beseechyng you neuerthelesse to pardon my follyes, wherewyth full fondely I haue abused youre pacience. Consider a whyle sir, I beseech you, the Nature and secrecye of loue. For those that be blinded in that passion, thynke them selues to be perfecte Seers, and yet be the first that commit most filthy faultes. I doe not denie any committed wrong and trespasse, and doe not refuse therefore the honest and gentle Correction that you shall appointe mee, for expiation of myne offence.” “Ah my Noble Lady,” (aunswered the knight, all rapt wyth pleasure, and halfeway out of his wyts for ioy) “I humbly beseech you inflyct vppon my poore wretched body no further panges of Death, by remembryng the glory of my thought, sith the recitall bryngeth with it a tast of the trauailes which you haue suffred for my ioy and contentation.” “It is therefore,” (quod she) “that I think my self happy: for by that meanes I haue knowne the perfect qualyties that be in you, and haue proued two extremities of vertue. One consisting in your constancy and loyalty wherby you may vaunt yourself aboue hym that sacrificed his Lyfe vpon the bloudy body of his Ladye who for dying so, finished his Trauailes. Where you haue chosen a life worse than death, no lesse paynefull a hundred times a Day, than very death it self. The other in the clemency wherwyth you calme and appease the rage of your greatest aduersaries. As my self which before hated you to death, vanquished by your courtesie do confesse that I am double bound vnto you, both for my lyfe and honor: and hearty thankes do I render to the Lord Roderico for the violence he dyd vnto me, by which meanes I was induced to acknowledge my wrong, and the right whych you had to complayne of my beastly resistance.” “Al is wel,” sayd Roderico, “sith without peril of honor we may returne home to our houses: I intend therefore (sayd he) to send word before to the Ladies your mothers of your returne, for I know how so wel to couer and excuse this our enterpryse and secrete iorneis, as by God’s assistance no blame or displeasure shall ensue thereof. And like as (said he smiling) I haue builded the fortresse whych shot into your campe, and made you flie, euen so I hope (Gentlewoman) that I shalbe the occasion of your victorye, when you combat in close campe, with your sweete cruel Ennimy.” Thus they passed the iorney in pleasaunt talk, recompensing the 2 Louers with al honest and vertuous intertainment for their griefs and troubles past. In the meane while they sent one of their Seruaunts to the two widow Ladies, which were in greate care for their Children, to aduertise them that Gineura was gone to visit Dom Diego, then being in one of the castles of Roderico, where they were determined if it were their good pleasure, to consumate their mariage, hauing giuen faith and affiance one to the other. The mother of Gineura could not heare tel of more pleasant newes: for she had vnderstanded of the foolysh flyght and escape of hir daughter, with the steward of hir house, wherof she was very sorrowful, and for grief was like to die, but assured and recomforted with those newes she failed not to mete the mother of Dom Diego, at the appointed place whether the 2 louers were arriued two daies before. Ther the mariage of that fair couple (so long desired) was solempnised with sutch magnificence as was requisite for the state of those two noble houses. Thus the torment indured, made the ioye to sauour of some other taste than they do feele, which without paine in the exercise of loue’s pursute, attaine the top of theyr desires: and truly their pleasure was altogether like to him that nourished in superfluous delicacy of meates cannot aptly so wel iudge of pleasure as he which sometimes lacketh the abundance. And verily loue wythout bitternesse, is almost a cause without effects, for he that shall take away gryefs and troubled fansies from Louers, depryueth them of the prayse of their stedfastnesse, and maketh vayne the glory of their perseuerence: For hee is vnworthy to beare away the price and Garland of triumph in the Conflict, that behaueth himselfe like a coward, and doth not obserue the lawes of armes and manlike dueties incident to a combat. This History then is a Mirrour for Loyall Louers and Chaste Suters, and maketh them detest the vnshamefastnesse of those, which vpon the first view do followe with might and mayne, the Gentlewoman or Lady that gieueth them good Face, or Countenaunce whereof any gentle heart, or mynde, noursed in the Schoolehouse of vertuous education, will not bee squeymishe to those that shall by chaste salutation or other incountry, doe their curteous reuerence. This History also yeldeth contempt of them, which in their affection forget themselues abasing the Generosity of their Courages to be reputed of fooles the true champions of loue, whose like are they that desire such regarde. For the perfection of a true Louer consisteth in passions, in sorrows, griefes, martirdomes, or cares, and mutch lesse arriueth he to his desire, by sighes, exclamations, Weapings, and childishe playnts: For so mutch as vertue ought to be the bande of that indissoluble amity, which maketh the vnion of the two seuered bodies of that Woman man, which Plato describeth, and causeth man to trauell for hys whole accomplishment in the true pursute of chaste loue. In which labour truly, fondly walked Dom Diego, thinking to finde the same by his dispayre amiddest the sharpe solitary Deserts of those Pyrene Mountaynes. And truely the duety of his perfect friende, did more liuely disclose the same (what fault so euer he did) than all his Countenaunces, eloquent letters or amorous Messages. In like manner a man doth not know what a treasure a true Friende is, vntill hee hath proued his excellency, specially where necessity maketh him to taste the swetenes of sutch delicate meate. For a frend being a seconde himselfe, agreeth by a certayne naturall Sympathie and attonement to th’affections of him whom he loueth both to particpate his ioyes and pleasures, and to sorrowe his aduersity, where Fortune shall vse by some misaduentures, to shewe hir accustomed mobility.

THE THIRTIETH NOUELL.

A Gentleman of Siena, called Anselmo Salimbene, curteously and gently deliuereth his enemy from death. The condemned party seeing the kinde parte of Salimbene, rendreth into his hands his sister Angelica, with whom he was in loue, which gratitude and curtesie, Salimbene well markinge, moued in Conscience, woulde not abuse hir, but for recompence tooke hir to his wyfe.

Wee do not meane here to discouer the Sumptuosity and Magnificence of Palaces, stately, and wonderfully to the view of men, ne yet to reduce to memory the maruellous effectes of man’s Industry to builde and lay Foundations in the deepest Chanel of the mayne sea, ne to describe their ingenious Industry, in breaking the Craggy Mountaynes, and hardest Rocks, to ease the crooked Passages of weary waies, for Armies to marche through in accessible places. Onely now do we pretend to shewe the effects of loue, which surmount all Opinion of common thinges, and appeare so miraculous as the founding, and erecting of the Collissæi, Collossæi, Theatres, Amphitheatres, Pyramides, and other workes wonderfull to the world, for that the hard indured path of hatred and displeasure long time begoon, and obstinately pursued wyth straunge cruelty, was conuerted into loue, by th’effect of concord, sutch as I know none, but is so mutch astonned, as hee maye haue good cause to wonder, consyderyng the stately foundations vppon which Kinges and greate Monarches haue employed the chyefest reuenues of their prouinces. Now lyke as ingratitude is a vice of greatest blame and discommendation amongs men, euen so Gentlenesse and Kindnesse ought to beare the title of a most commendable vertue. And as the Thebans were accused of that crime, for their great Captaynes Epaminondas and Pelopidas. So the Plateens (contrarywise) are praised for their solempne obseruation of the Grekes benefits, which deliuered them oute of the Persians bondage. And the Sicyonians beare away the pryse of eternall prayse, for acknowledgyng the good turnes receiued of Aratus, that delyuered them from the cruelty of the tyrants. And if Philippo Maria, duke of Milan, deserued eternal reproch for his ingratitude to his wife Beatrix, for the secrete killing of hir, he being enryched with hir goodes and treasures: a barbarous Turke borne in Arabia, shal carry the praise, who being vanquished in Arabia, by Baldouine, kyng of Hierusalem, and he and his Wife taken prysoners, and his treasures fallen into the hands of that good king, issued of the Loraine bloud, who neuerthelesse seeing that the Chrystian had deliuered him, and restored againe his wife would not be vanquished in magnificence and liberalitye, and mutch lesse beare the name of an vnkind prince, but rather when Baldouine was ouercome of the infidels, and being retyred within a certaine city, the Admiral of Arabie, came to him in the night, and tellyng him the deuice of his companions, conueyed hym out of the City, and was hys guide vntill he sawe hym free from peril. I haue alleaged the premysses, bycause the History whych I purpose to recyte, aduoucheth two examples not Vulgare or Common, the one of very great Loue, and the other of sutch acceptation and knowledgyng thereof, as I thought it pity the same should lurk from the Acquayntaunce of vs Englysh Men. And that they alone should haue the Benefite thereof whych vnderstand the Italian tongue, supposing that it shall bryng some fruyct and commodity to this our Englishe Soyle, that ech Wyghte may frame their lyfe on those whych in straung Countries far from vs, haue lyued vertuously wythout reproch that might soyle or spotte theyr name. In Siena then (an auncient, and very noble Citty of Toscane, which no longe time past was gouerned by hir Magistrates, and liued in hir own lawes and liberties, as the Lucquois, Pisans, and Florentines do) were two families very rich, noble, and the chiefe of the Citty called the Salimbenes, and Montanines, of the Race and Stock whereof, excellent men in their Common wealth haue descended, very good and expert Souldiers for conducte of Armies. Those two houses in the beginning were so great freendes, and frequented sutch loue and familiarity, as it seemed they had bene but one house and bloude, dayly vsinge eche others company, and banketting one another. But Italy in all times being as it were a Store house of troubles, and a very marte of sedition, bandes, and parcialities, specially of ciuill warres in euery Citty, it coulde not be that Siena shoulde alone enioy hir liberty in peace, and accorde of Cittizens, and vaunt hir selfe to bee free from knowledge of particular debate. For of warres shee had good experience against the Florentines, who by long remembraunce haue don what they coulde to make hir subiect vnto them. Nowe the cause of that discorde rose euen by them which kept the Cittizens in vnity and concord, and was occasioned by those 2 houses the noblest, and most puissant of their common wealth. It is not vnknowne to any man, that antiquity ordayned it to be peculiar for nobility, to trayne vp there children in huntinge, aswell to bolden and Nosell theym in daungers, as to make them stronge, and accustomed in trauayle, and to force them shun the delicate lyfe and great Idlenes which accompany honorable houses, and those of gentle bloud, forsomutch as by the pursuite of Beastes, sleyghts of warre bee obserued: the Hounds be the square battell, the Greyhoundes be the flanquarts and Wynges to follow the enimy, the horseman serueth to gieue the Chace, when the Game speedeth to couert, the Hornes be the Trumpets to sounde the Chase and Retire, and for incouragement of the Dogges to run. To be short, it seemeth a very Campe in battayle, ordayned for the pleasure and passetyme of noble youth. Neuerthelesse, by hunting diuers missefortunes doe arise, and sundry daungers haue happened by the same. Meleager lost his Lyfe for the victory of the wyld Bore of Callydonia, Cephalus was slaine for kylling his deare beloued Pocris, and Acastus was accursed for murdering the King’s sonne of whome he was the Tutour. William Rufus, one of our Englysh Kings, the son of the Conquerour, was killed with an Arrow in the New Forrest by a French Gentleman called Walter Tyrel, as he was pursuing the Harte. Other histories reporte dyuers peryls chaunced in hunting, but yet the same worthy to be cheryshed, frequented and vsed by good aduise and moderate pastyme. So the huntinge of the wylde Bore defyled the City of Siena, with the bloud of hir owne Citizens, when the Salimbenes and Montanines vppon a daye in an assembled company, incountring vpon a greate and fierce Bore, toke hym by force of men and Beastes. When they had don, as they were banketting and communing of the nimblenesse of their dogs, ech man praising his owne, as hauing done beste, there rose greate debate amongs them [vpon that matter], and proceeded so farre, as fondly they began to reuile one another with words, and from taunting termes to earnest blowes, wherewith diuers in that skirmish were hurt on both sides: In the end the Salimbenes had the worsse, and one of the principall slayne in the place, which appalled the rest, not that they were discoraged, but attending time and season of reuenge. This hatred so strangely kindled betwene both partes, that by lyttle and lyttle, after many combats and ouerthrowes of eyther side, the losse lyghted vpon the Montanines, who with their wealth and rychesse were almost brought to nothing, and thereby the rygour and Choler of the Salimbenes appeased, none being able to resist them, and in space of time forgot all iniuries. The Montanines also that remayned at Siena, liued in quyet, wythoute chalenge or quarell of their aduersaries, howbeit mutuall talke and haunt of others company vtterly surceased. And to say the truth, there were almost none to quarell wythall, for the whole Bloude and Name of the Montanines rested in one alone, called Charles the Sonne of Thomas Montanine, a young man so honest and well brought vp as any then in Siena, who had a syster, that for beauty, grace, curtesy and honesty, was comparable with the best in all Thoscane. This poore young Gentleman had no great reuenue, for that the patrimonie of his predecessors was wasted in charges for entertainement of Souldiers in the time of the hurly burly and debates aforesaid. A good parte also was confiscate to the Chamber of Siena for trespasses and forfaitures committed: with the remayne he sustained his family, and indifferently maintained hys porte soberly within his owne house, keping his sister in decent and moderate order. The Maiden was called Angelica, a Name of trouth, without offence to other, due to hir. For in very deede in hir were harbored the vertue of Curtesy and Gentlenesse, and was so wel instructed and nobly brought vp, as they which loued not the Name or race of hir, could not forbeare to commend hir, and wyshe theyr owne daughters to be hir lyke. In sutch wise as one of hir chiefest foes was so sharpely beset with hir vertue and beauty, as he lost his quiet sleepe, and lust to eate and drinke. His name was Anselmo Salimbene, who woulde wyllinglye haue made sute to marry hir, but the discord past, quite mortified his desire, so soone as he had deuised the plot wythin his brayne and fansie. Notwithstanding it was impossible that the louer so lyuely grauen and roted in his mind, could easily be defaced. For if once in a day he had not seene hir, his heart did fele the torments of tosting flames, and wished that the hunting of the Bore, had neuer decaied a family so excellent, to the intent he myght haue matched himself with hir, whome none other could displace out of his remembraunce, that was one of the rychest Gentlemen and of greatest power in Siena. Now for that he durst not discouer his amorous griefe to any person, was the chiefest cause that martired most his hearte, and for the auncient festred malice of those two families, he despayred for euer, to gather either floure or fruict of that affection, presupposing that Angelica would neuer fixe hir Loue on him, for that his Parents were the cause of the defaite and ouerthrow of the Montanine house. But what? There is nothing durable vnder the heauens. Both good and euyll haue theyr reuolution in the gouernment of humane affayres. The amityes and hatredes of Kynges and Prynces, be they so hardened, as commonly in a Moment hee is not seene to be a hearty Friende, that lately was a cruell Foe, and spyred naught else but the ruine of his Aduersary? Wee see the variety of Humayne chaunces, and then doe iudge at eye what great simplicity it is to stay and settle certayne, and infallible iudgement vppon man’s vnstayed doings. He that erst gouerned a king, and made all things to tremble at his word, is sodaynely throwne downe, and dyeth a shamefull death. In like sorte, another whych looketh for his owne vndoinge, seeth himselfe aduaunced to hys estate agayne, by reuenge ouer his Enimies. Calir Bassa gouerned whilom the great Mahomet, that wan the Empire of Constantinople, who attempted nothing without the aduice of that Bassa. But vpon the sodayne he saw him selfe reiected, and the next day strangled by commaundement of him, which so greatly honoured him, and without iust cause did him to a death so cruell. Contrarywise Aragon the Tartarian entring Armes against his Vncle Tangodor Caui, when hee was vpon the Poynct to lose his Lyfe for his rebellion, and was conueyed into Armenia to be executed there, was rescued by certayne Tartarians the houshold seruaunts of his dead vncle, and afterwards Proclaymed King of Tartary about the year 1285. The example of the Empresse Adaleda is of no lesse credit than the former, who being fallen into the hands of Beranger the Vsurper of the Empyre escaped his fury and cruelty by flight, and in the ende maried to Otho the firste, sawe hir wrong reuenged vpon Beranger and all his Race by hir Sonne Otho the second. I aduouch these Hystories to proue the mobility of fortune, and the chaunge of worldly chaunces, to th’ende you may see that the very same misery which followed Charles Montanine hoysted him aloft agayne, and when he looked for least succour, he saw deliueraunce at hand. Now to prosecute our Hystory: know yee that while Salimbene by little and little pined for loue of Angelica, whereof shee was ignoraunt and carelesse, and albeit shee curteously rendred health to him, when sometimes in his amorous fit he beheld hir at a Window, yet for al that shee neuer so mutch as guessed the thoughts of hir louing enimy. During these haps it chaunced that a rich Cittizen of Siena, hauing a ferme adioyning to the Lands of Montanine, desirous to encrease his Patrimony, and annexe the same vnto his owne, and knowing that the yong Gentleman wanted many thinges, moued him to sel his inheritaunce, offring hym for it in ready money, a M. Ducates, Charles which of al the wealth and substaunce left him by his auncester, had no more remaynyng but that countrey Ferme, and a Palace in the City (so the rich Italians of ech City, terme their houses,) and with that lytle lyued honestly, and maintained his sister so wel as he could, refused flatly to dispossesse himselfe of the portion, that renewed vnto him the happy memory of those that had ben the chiefe of all the Common Wealth. The couetous wretch seeing himselfe frustrate of his pray, conceiued sutch rancor against Montanine, as he purposed by right or wrong to make him not only to forfait the same, but also to lose his lyfe, following the wicked desire of tirannous Iesabell, that made Naboth to be stonned to death to extort and wrongfully get his vineyard. About that time for the quarels and common dyscordes raigning throughout Italy, the Nobility were not assured of safety in their Countreis, but rather the common sort and rascall number, were the chief rulers and gouerners of the common wealth, whereby the greatest part of the Nobility or those of beste authority being banished, the villanous band, and grosest kind of common people made a law (like to the Athenians in the time of Solon) that all persons of what degree and condition so euer they were, which practized by himselfe or other meanes the restablyshing or reuocation of sutch as were banished out of their Citye, should lose and forfaite the summe of M. Florens, and hauing not wherewith to pay the condempnation, their head should remaine for gage. A law no doubt very iust and righteous, scenting rather of the barbarous cruelty of the Gothes and Vandales, than of true christians, stopping the retire of innocents exiled for particular quarels of Citizens incited one against another, and rigorously rewarding mercy and curtesy, with execution of cruelty incomparable. This Citizen then purposed to accuse Montanine for offending against the law, bicause otherwise he could not purchase his entent, and the same was easy inough for him to compasse, by reason of his authority and estimation in the Citye: for the Endytemente and plea was no sooner red and giuen, but a number of post knightes appeared to depose against the poore Gentleman, to beare witnesse that he had trespassed the Lawes of the Countrey, and had sought meanes to introduce the banished, with intent to kyll the gouerners, and to place in state those factious, that were the cause of the Italian troubles. The myserable Gentleman knewe not what to do, ne how to defend himself. There were against him the Moone and the VII. starres, the state of the City, the Proctor and Iudge of the Courte, the wytnesses that gaue euidence, and the law whych condempned him. He was sent to Pryson, sentence was pronounced against him with sutch expedition, as he had no leysure to consider his affayres. There was no man, for feare to incurre the displeasures of the Magistrates, that durst open hys mouth to speake or make sute for hys delyueraunce. Like as the most part of fryendes in these dayes resembling the crow, that flyeth not but after carrian to gorge his rauenous Crop, and sutch friends doe visite the house of the fryend but for profit, reuerencyng him so long as he is in prosperitye, accordyng to the Poet’s complaynt.

And simple Wyghtes ought not to bee afrayde, and thynke amyss if Fryendes doe flee away, sith Prynces and great Lords incurre sutch hap and Fortune. The great leader of the Romayne Armies, Pompeius, the honor of the people and Senate of Rome, what companion had he to flee with hym? Whych of his auncient friends toke paine to rescue and delyuer him from his Enimyes hands which did pursue him? A king of Ægipt which had known and found this good Romane Prynce a kind and gentle fryend, was he that killed him, and sent his head to his Victor and unsatible greedy gutte Iulius Cæsar, falsifying his promised fayth, and forgetting his receiued pleasures. Amongs all the comforts which this pore Siena Gentleman found, although but a curssed Traitor, was thys vnfaithfull and pestiferous Camæleon, who came and offred him al the pleasure and kindnesse he was able to do. But the varlet attended conuenient tyme to make him taste his poyson, and to let him see by effect, how dangerous a thing it is to be il neighbored, hoping after the condempnation of Montanine he should at pleasure purchase the Lordshippe, after whych with so open mouth he gaped. Ouer whom he had hys wyll: for two or three dayes after the recitall of the endytement, and giuing of the euydence, Charles was condempned, and his fine sessed at M. Florins to be payed within XV. dayes, vntyl whych time to remaine in Pryson. And for default of sutch payment to loose his heade, bicause he had infringed the Lawes, and broken the Statutes of the Senate. This sentence was very difficult for poor Montanine to digest, who saw all his goodes like to be dispoyled and confiscate, complayning specially the fortune of fayre Angelica his sister, whych all the tyme of the imprysonment of hir deare brother, neuer went out of the house, ne ceased to weepe and lamente the hard fortune whereinto their family was lyke to fall by that new mischaunce: “Alas,” said the fayre curteous damsel, “will the heauens never be appeased but continually extend their wrathe vpon our deplored family, and shal our missehaps neuer cease? Had it not bene more tollerable for our consumed bloude, that the dissentions past, had been tried by dent of sword, than to see the present innocency of the young Gentleman my brother in daunger to be innocently accused and put to death, through the vniustice of those, which beare mortal malice to noble bloud, and glory in depryuation of the whole remembrance of the same? O dampnable state that muste hale the guiltlesse to the gibet and irreuocable sentence of those iudges remaining in a city, which men cal free, albeit a confused multitude hath the vpper hande, and may so bee, that Nature hath produced them to treade vnder foote noble Wightes for their Offences. Ah dear Brother, I see well what is the cause. If thou hadst not that lytle lordshyp in the Countrey, and Pryncely House in the City, no man would haue enuied thine estate, or could haue charged thee with any Crime, which I would to God, thou hadst not onely enterprysed, but also broughte to passe, to the intent thou mightest haue ben reuenged of the wrong which these cankred Carles ordinarily do vnto my Noble bloud. But what reason is it that marchants and artificers, or the sonnes of villaines should rule a common Wealth? O happy Countreis where kings giue Lawes, and Princes see by proued sight, those persons which resemble them, and in their places beare the sway. And O unhappy wee, that be the slaues of a waiwarde state, peruerted by corruption. Why dyd our predecessors minde to stablysh any lyberty at al, to thrust the same into the confused gouernment of the commons of our Countrey? We haue stil the Frenchman at our tayle, or the people of our highest Bishop, or else those crafty Florentines, we be the common pray of al those that list to follow the haunt, and that which is our extreamest misery, we make oure selues the very slaues of them that of right ought to be reputed the vilest amongs us al. Ah deare Brother, that thy wretched tyme is come, the onely hope of our decayed family. Thou hadest neuer bene committed to Warde, had not thy false assured foes bene assure of witnesse to condempne thee. Ah that my life mighte raunsome thine, and redeme agayn thyne estate and succor, thou shouldest be sure that forthwith Angelica would prepare hirself to bee the pray of those hungry rauenyng Wolues, which bleat and bellow after thy Lands and Lyfe.” Whyle this fayre Damsell of Siena in this sort dyd torment hir self, poore Montanine, seeinge that he was brought to the last extremity of his desired hope, as eche man naturally doth seke meanes to prolong his lyfe, knowing that all other help fayled for hys delyueraunce except he sold his land, aswel to satisfy the fine, as to preuayle in the rest of his Affaires, sent one of the gailers to that worshipfull usurer the cause of hys Calamity, to offer him his Land for the pryce and sum of a M. Ducates. The pernicious and trayterous villain, seeing that Montanine was at his mercy, and stode in the water up to the very throte, and knew no more what to do, as if already he had tryumphed of hys life and Land so greatly coueted, answered him in this manner: “My friend thou shalt say to Charles Montanine, that not long ago I would willingly haue giuen him a good Summe of Money for his Ferme, but sithens that tyme I haue imployed my Money to some better profit: and albeit I was in minde to buy it, I would be loth to give aboue 7. C. Florins, being assured that it cannot be so commodious, as my Money is able to bring yearely Gayne into my Purse.” See how Auarice is the Pickpurse of secret and hidden gayne, and the very Whirlepoole of Honesty, and Conscience, couetinge nought els but by vnrighteous Pray of other mens goods, to accumulate and heape together. The aboundance whereof bringeth no greater good hap vnto the gluttonous Owner, but rather the minde of sutch is more miserable, and carryeth therewithall more decrease of quiet, than increase of filthy muck. The couetous man beareth no loue but to his Treasure, nor exerciseth charity but vpon his Coafers, who, than he would be dispossessed thereof, had rather sell the life of his naturall Father. This detestable Villayne hauing sometimes offered M. Ducates to Charles for his Enherytaunce, will now doe so no more, aspiring the totall Ruine of the Montanine Family. Charles aduertised of his minde, and amazed for the Counsels decree, well saw that all thinges contraried hys hope and expectation, and that he must needes dye to satisfie the excessiue and couetous Lust of the Cormerant, whose malice hee knew to bee so vehement, as none durst offer him Money, by reason of the vnhappy desire of this neuer contented Varlet: For which consideration throughly resolved to dye, rather than to leaue hys poore Sister helplesse, and without reliefe, and rather than he would agree to the bargayne tending to his so great losse and disadvauntage, and to the Tirannous dealing of the wicked Tormentor of hys Lyfe, seeing also that all meanes to purge and auerre his innocency, was taken from him, the finall decree of the Iudges being already passed, he began to dispose himselfe to repentaunce and saluation of his Soule, making complaynte of his Mishaps in thys manner.

When Charles thus complayned himself, and throughly was determined to dy, great pitty it was to see how fayre Angelica did rent hir Face, and teare hir golden Locks, when she saw how impossible it was to saue hir obstinate brother from the cruel sentence pronounced vpon him, for whom she had imployed all hir wits and fayre speach, to perswade the neerest of hir Kin to make sute. Thus rested she alone ful of sutch heauinesse and vexation as they can think which see themselues depriued of things that they esteeme most dere. But of one thing I can wel assure you, that if ill fortune had permitted that Charles should haue bin put to death, the gentle damsel also had breathed forth the final gasp of hir sorowful life, yeldinge therewithall the last end of the Montanine race and family. What booteth it to hold processe of long discourse? Beholde the last day is come deferred by the Iudges, whereupon he must eyther satisfie the fine, or dye the next day after like a rebel and Traytor against the state, without any of his kin making sute or meane for his deliueraunce: albeit they visited the fayre mayden, and comforted hir in that hir wretched state, instructing hir how shee should gouerne hir selfe patiently to suffer things remedilesse. Angelica accompanied with hir kin, and the maidens dwelling by, that were hir companions, made the ayre to sound with outcries and waymentings, and she hir selfe exclaymed like a woman destraught of Wits, whose plaints the multitude assisted with like eiulations and outcries, wayling the fortune of the yong gentleman, and sorowfull to see the mayden in daunger to fal into some mishap. As these things were thus bewayled, it chaunced about nine of the clocke at night, that Anselmo Salimbene, he whom we haue sayd to be surprised with the loue of Angelica, returning out of the Countrey, where he had remayned for a certayne time, and passing before the house of his Lady, according to his custome, heard the voyce of women and maydens which mourned for Montanine, and therewithall stayd: the chiefest cause of his stay was, for that he saw go forth out of the Pallace of hys Angelica, diuers Women making Moane, and Lamentation: wherefore he demaunded of the neyghbors what noyse that was, and whether any in those Quarters were dead or no. To whom they declared at length, al that which yee haue heard before. Salimbene hearing this story, went home to his house, and being secretly entred into his chamber, began discourse with himselfe vpon that accident, and fantasying a thousand things in his heade, in the ende thought that Charles should not so be cast away, were he iustly or innocently condempned, and for the only respect of his sister, that she might not bee left destitute of the Goods, and Inheritaunce. Thus discoursing diuers things, at length he sayd: “I were a very simple person nowe to rest in doubt, sith Fortune is more curious of my felicity than I could wishe, and seeketh the effect of my desires, when least of all I though vpon them. For behold, Montanine alone is left of all the mortall enimies of our house, whych to morrow openly shall lose his head like a rebell and seditious person, vpon whose Auncesters, in him shall I be reuenged, and the quarell betweene our two Families, shall take ende, hauinge no more cause to feare renuing of discorde, by any that can descend from him. And who shall let mee then from inioying hir, whom I doe loue, hir brother being dead, and his goods confiscate to the Seigniory, and she without all Maynetenaunce, and Reliefe, except the ayde of hir onely beauty and curtesie? What maynetenaunce shall she haue, if not by the loue of some honest Gentleman, that for hys pleasure may support hir, and haue pitty vppon the losse of so excellent beauty? Ah Salimbene, what hast thou sayd? Hast thou already forgotten that a Gentleman for that only cause is esteemed aboue al other, whose glorious facts ought to shine before the brightnesse of those that force theymselues to followe vertue? Art not thou a Gentleman borne, and Bred in noble house, Issued from the Loyns of gentle and noble Parentes? Is it ignoraunt vnto thee, that it pertayneth vnto a noble and gentle heart, to reuenge receyued Iniuries himselfe, without seeking ayde of other or else to pardon them by vsing clemency and princely curtesie, burying all desire of vengeaunce vnder the Toumbe of eternall obliuion? And what greater glory can man acquire, than by vanquishing himselfe, and chastising his affections and rage, to bynde him which neuer thought to receyue pleasure or benefit at his hand? It is a thing which exceedeth the common order of nature, and so is it meete and requisite, that the most excellent doe make the effects of their excellency appeare, and seeke meanes for the immortality of their remembraunce. The great Dictator Cæsar was more praysed for pardoning hys enimies, and for shewing himselfe curteous and easie to be spoken to, than for subduinge the braue and valiaunt Galles and Britons, or vanquishing the mighty Pompee. Dom Roderico Viuario, the Spaniard, although he might haue bene reuenged vpon Dom Pietro, king of Aragon, for his infidelity, bicause he went about to hinder his voyage agaynst the Saracens at Grenado, yet woulde not Punishe or Raunsome him, but taking him Prysoner in the Warres, suffred him to goe without any Tribute, or any exaction of him and his Realme. The more I followe the example of mighty Personages in thinges that be good, the more notorious and wonderful shall I make my selfe in their rare and noble deedes. And not willing to forget a wrong done vnto me, whereof may I complayne of Montanine? What thinge hath hee euer done agaynst me or mine? And albeit his Predecessors were enimies to our Family, they haue therefore borne the penaunce, more harde than the sinne deserued. And truly I should be afrayde, that God would suffer me to tumble into some mishap, if seeing one afflicted, I should reioyce in his affliction, and take by his decay an argument of ioy and pleasure. No, no, Salimbene is not of minde that sutch fond Imagination should Bereue good will to make hymselfe a Freende, and to gayne by liberality and curtesie hir, which for hir only vertue deserueth a greater lord than I. Being assured, that there is no man (except he were dispoyled of all good nature and humanity) specially bearing the loue to Angelica, that I do, but he would be sory to see hir in sutch heauinesse and despayre, and would attempt to deliuer hir from sutch dolorous griefe. For if I loue hir as I do in deede, must not I likewise loue all that which she earnestly loueth, as him that is nowe in daunger of death for a simple fine of a thousand Florens? That my heart doe make appeere what the loue is, which maketh me Tributary and Subiect to fayre Angelica, and that eche man may knowe, that furious loue hath vanquisht kings and great monarches, it behoueth not me to be abashed, if I which am a man and subiect to passions, so well as other, doe submit my selfe to the seruice of hir, who I am assured is so vertuous as euen very necessity cannot force hir to forget the house, whereof she tooke hir originall. Vaunt thy selfe then O Angelica, to haue forced a heart of it selfe impregnable, and giuen him a wound which the stoutest Lads might sooner haue depriued of lyfe, than put him out of the way of his gentle kinde: and thou, Montanine, thinke, that if thou wilt thy selfe, thou winnest to day so hearty a frende, as only death shall separate the vnion of vs twayne, and of all our posterity. It is I, nay it is I my selfe, that shall excell thee in duety, poynting the way for the wisest, to get honor, and violently compel the mooued myndes of those that be our aduersaries, desiring rather vainely to forgo myne own life, than to giue ouer the vertuous conceipts, which be already grifted in my minde.” After this long discourse seeing the tyme required dilligence, hee tooke a thousand Ducats, and went to the Treasurer of the fines, deputed by the state, whom he founde in his office, and sayde vnto him: “I haue brought you sir, the Thousande Ducates, which Charles Montanine is bounde to pay for his deliueraunce. Tell them, and gieue him an acquittaunce, that presently hee may come forth.” The Treasorer woulde haue giuen him the rest, that exceeded the Summe of a Thousand Florens: but Salimbene refused the same, and receyuing a letter for his discharge, he sent one of his Seruaunts therewithal to the chiefe Gayler, who seeing that the Summe of his condemnation was payd, immediately deliuered Montanine out of the Prison where he was fast shut, and fettered with great, and weyghty Giues. Charles thinckinge that some Frier had bin come to confesse him, and that they had shewed him some mercy to doe hym to death in Prison, that abroade in open shame of the world he might not deface the Noble house whereof he came, was at the first sight astonned, but hauing prepared himselfe to die, praysed God, and besought him to vouchsafe not to forget him in the sorrowful passage, wherein the stoutest and coragious many times be faynt and inconstaunt. He recommended his Soule, he prayed forgieuenesse of his sinnes: and aboue all, he humbly besought the goodnesse of God, that it would please him to haue pitty vpon his Sister, and to deliuer hir from all Infamy and dishonor. When he was caried out of Pryson, and brought before the Chiefe Gayler, sodaynely his Giues were discharged from his Legges, and euery of the standers by looked merily vppon hym, without speakinge any Woorde that might affray hym. That Curtesie vnlooked for, made hym attende some better thynge, and assured hym of that whych before by any meanes hee durste not thyncke. And hys expectation was not deceiued. For the Gayler sayde vnto hym: “Bee of good Cheare Sir, for beholde the letters of your discharge, wherefore you may goe at liberty whether you list.” In saying so, he opened the Pryson, and licenced Montanine to departe, praying him not to take in ill part his intreaty and hard imprysonment, for that hee durst doe none other, the State of the City hauing so enioyned hym. May not ech Wyght now behold how that the euents of loue be diuers from other passions of the mind? How could Salimbene haue so charitably deliuered Montanine, the hatred beyng so long tyme rooted between the two houses, if some greate occasion whych hath no name in Loue, had not altred his Nature, and extinguished hys affection? It is meritoryous to succour them whome we neuer saw before, sith nature moueth vs to doe well to them that be lyke our selues. But faith surmounteth there, where the very naturall inclynation feeleth it self constrayned and seeth that to be broken, whych obstynately was purposed to be kept in mynde. The graces, gentlenesse, Beauty, mild behauior and allurement of Angelica, had greater force ouer Salimbene, than the humility of hir Brother, although he had kneeled a hundred tymes before him. But what heart is so brute, but may be made tractable and Mylde, by the Contemplation of a thyng so rare, as the excellent Beauty of that Siena Mayden, and woulde not humble it selfe to acquyre the good graces of so perfect a Damsel? I wyll neuer accuse man for beyng in Loue wyth a fayre and vertuous Woman, nor esteeme hym a slaue, whych painefully serueth a sobre Mayden, whose heart is fraught wyth honeste affections, and Mynd wyth desyre tending to good ende. Well worthy of blame is he to be deemed whych is in loue wyth the outeward hew, and prayseth the Tree onely layden with floures, without regard to the fruict, whych maketh it worthye of commendation. The young maiden must needes resemble the floure of the Spryng time, vntill by hir constancy, modesty, and chastity she hath vanquished the concupiscence of the flesh, and brought forth the hoped fruicte of a Vertue and Chastity not Common. Otherwyse, shee shall bee lyke the inrolled Souldyer, whose valyance hys only mind doth wytnes, and the offer whych he maketh to hym that doth register his name in the muster bookes. But when the effect of seruyce is ioyned wyth his attempt, and proofe belyeth not hys promyse, then the Captain imbraceth him, and aduaunceth him, as a glasse for his affaires from that time forth. The lyke of Dames hauing passed the assaults and resisted the attempts of theyr assaylants which be honest, not by force being not requyred, but inclyned by ther owne nature, and the dyligence of theyr chast and inuincyble heart. But turne we againe vnto our purpose, Montanine, when he was delyuered, forthwyth wente home to hys house, to comfort hir, whom he was more than sure to be in great distresse and heauinesse for his sake, and whych had so mutch neede of comfort as he had, to take his rest. He came to the gate of his Pallace (where beyng knowne that it was Montanine) his sister by any meanes coulde not bee made to beleue the same: so impossible seeme thynges vnto vs, which we most desyre. They were all in doubte, lyke as wee reade that they were when S. Peter escaped Herod’s Pryson by the Angel’s meanes. When Angelica was assured that it was hir Brother, sobbes wer layde aside, sighes were cast away, and heauy weepings conuerted into teares of ioy, she went to imbrace and kisse hir Brother, praising God for hys delyuerance, and making accompt that he had ben raised from death to lyfe, considering his stoutnes of minde rather bent to dye than to forgo his Land, for so smal a pryce. The Dames that wer kin vnto hym, and tarried there in Company of the maiden half in dispayre, least by dispayre and fury shee might fall into outrage therby to put hir lyfe in peril, with all expedition aduertised their husbands of Montanine’s Lyberty, not looked for, who repayred thither, as wel to reioyce with him in his ioy and good fortune, as to make their excuse, for that they had not trauayled to ryd him from that misery. Charles whych cared nothing at al for those mouth blessings, dissembled what he thought, thanking them neuerthelesse for their visitation and good remembrance they had of hym, for visiting and comforting his sister which honor, he estemed no lesse than if they had imployed the same vpon his owne person. Their friends and kinsfolk being departed, and assured that none of them had payde his ransome, hee was wonderfully astonned and the greater was his gryef for that he could not tell what hee was, whych withoute requeste, had made so gentle a proofe of his lyberality: if he knew nothing, farre more ignoraunte was his sister, forsomutch as she dyd thinke, that he had changed his mind, and that the horrour of death had made him sel his countrey inheritance, to hym whych made the first offer to buy the same: but either of them deceyued of their thought went to bed. Montanine rested not all the Nyght, hauyng still before his eyes, the vnknowne image of hym that had delyuered him. His bed serued his turne to none other purpose, but as a large field or some long alley within a Wood, for walkes to make discourse of hys mynde’s conceipts, sometimes remembryng one, sometimes another, without hitting the blanke and namyng of him that was his deliuerer, vnto whome he confessed him selfe to owe hys seruice and duety so long as hee lyued. And when hee saw the day begyn to appeare and that the Mornyng, the Vauntcurrour of the day, summoned Apollo to harnesse hys Horsse to begynne his course in our Hemisphere, he rose and went to the Chamberlaine or Treasurer, sutch as was deputed for receypt of the Fines, sessed by the State, whom he saluted, and receyuing lyke salutation, he prayed hym to shewe hym so mutch pleasure as to tell hym the parties name, that was so Lyberall to satysfie his fine due in the Eschequer of the State. To whome the other aunswered: “None other hath caused thy delyueraunce (O Montanine) but a certain person of the World, whose Name thou mayst easily gesse, to whome I gaue an acquittance of thyne imprysonmente, but not of the iuste summe, bycause hee gaue me a Thousand Ducates for a Thousand Florens, and woulde not receyue the ouerplus of the debte, whych I am readye to delyuer thee wyth thyne acquyttaunce.” “I haue not to doe wyth the Money” (sayd Charles) “onely I pray you to tell me the name of him that hath don me thys great curtesy, that hereafter I may acknowledge him to be my Friend.” “It is” (sayd the Chamberlayne) “Anselmo Salimbene, who is to bee commended and praysed aboue all thy parents and kinne, and came hither very late to bryng the Money, the surplusage whereof, beholde here it is.” “God forbid” (sayd Montaine) “that I should take awaye that, whych so happily was brought hither to rid me out of payne.” And so went away wyth his acquittance, his mind charged with a numbre of fansies for the fact don by Salimbene. Being at home at his house, he was long time stayed in a deepe consideration, desirous to know the cause of that gentle parte, proceeding from him whose Parents and Auncesters were the capitall Enimies of his race. In the end lyke one risyng from a sound sleepe, he called to mynd, that very many times he had seene Anselmo with attentiue eye and fixed looke to behold Angelica, and in eying hir uery louyngly, he passed euery day (before theyr gate) not shewing other countenaunce, but of good wyll, and wyth fryendly gesture, rather than any Ennimies Face, saluting Angelica at all tymes when he met hir. Wherefore Montanine was assured, that the onely loue of Salimbene towards his sister caused that delyueraunce, concluding that when the passion doth proceede of good loue, seazed in gentle heart and of noble enterpryse, it is impossible but it muste bryng forth the maruellous effects of vertue’s gallantize, of honesty and curtesy, and that the spyrite wel borne, can not so mutch hide hys gentle nourtoure, but the fyre must flame abroade, and that whych seemeth dyfficult to bee brought to passe, is facilitye, and made possible by the conceiptes and indeuors so wel imployed: wherefore in the Ende not to bee surmounted in Honesty, ne yet to beare the marke of one, that vnthankefully accepteth good turnes, he determyned to vse a great prodigality vppon him, that vnder the name of foe, had shewed himselfe a more faythful friend, then those that bare good face, and at neede wer furthest off from afflicted Montanine, who not knowing what present to make to Salimbene, but of himselfe and hys syster, purposed to impart his minde to Angelica, and then vpon knowledge of hir wil to performe his intent. For which cause vnderstanding that his gracious enimy was gone into the Countrey, he thoughte well to consyder of his determynatyon, and to breake wyth hir in hys absence, the better to Execute the same, vppon his nexte retourne to the Citye. He called Angelica asyde, and beynge bothe alone together, hee vsed these or sutch lyke Woordes: “You knowe, deare Sister, that the higher the fall is, the more daungerous and greater gryefe he feeleth that doth fall from highe than hee that tumbleth downe from place more low and of lesser steepenes. I speak this, bicause I cal to mind the condition, nobility, and excellency of our ancesters, the glorie of our race, and riches of all our house, which constraineth me many tymes to sigh, and sheade a streame of teares, when I see the sumptuous palaces that were the homes and resting places of our Fathers, and grand fathers, when I see on al parts of this City, the Armes, and Scutcheons painted and imbossed, bearyng the mark of the Antiquity of our house, and when I beholde the stately marble tombes and brasen Monuments, in dyuers our Temples erected for perpetuall Memorye of many knyghtes and generalles of warres, that sorted forth of the Montanine race: and chyefly I neuer enter thys great Palace, the remnant of our inheritaunce and patrimony, but the remembraunce of our auncesters, so glaunceth ouer mine Hearte, as an hundred hundred tymes, I wysh for death, to thynke that I am the Post alone of the mysery and decay fallen vppon the name and famous familye of the Montanines, whych maketh me thinke our life to be vnhappy, being downe fallen from sutch felicity, to feele a mysery most extreame. But one thing alone ought to content vs, that amid so great pouerty, yl luck, ruine and abasement, none is able to lay vnto our charge any thing vnworthy of the nobility and the house, whereof we be descended, our lyfe being conformable to the generositie of our predecessors: whereby it chanceth, that although our poore estate be generally knowne, yet none can affirme, that we haue forligned the vertue of them, which vertuously haue lyued before vs. If so bee wee haue receiued pleasure or benefit of any man, neuer disdained I with al duety to acknowledge a good turne, stil shunning the vyce of ingratytude, to soyle the reputation wherein hitherto I haue passed my lyfe. Is there anye blot which more spotteth the renoume of man, than not confessing receiued benefites and pleasures perfourmed in our necessity? You know in what peril of death I was, these few daies past, through their false surmise which neuer loued me, and how almost miraculously I was redemed out of the hangman’s hands, and the cruel sentence of the vnryghteous Magistrate, not one of our kin offrynge themselues in deede or word for my defense, which forceth mee to say, that I haue felt of my Kin, which I neuer thought, and haue tasted sutch commodity at his hands, of whome I neuer durst expect or hope for pleasure, relief, aide or any comfort. I attended my delyueraunce by sute of those whome I counted for Kin and fryends, but the same so soon vanished, as the Necessity and peryll were present. So pressed with woe, and forsaken of fryends, I was affrayde that our aduersaries (to remoue all feare and suspition in tyme to come) would haue purchased my totall ruine, and procured the ouerthrowe of the Montanines name, by my Death, and approched end. But good God, from the place whereof I feared the danger, the calme arose, which hath brought my Barke to the hauen of health, and at his hands where I attended ruine, I haue tasted affiance and sustentation of myne honor and lyfe. And playnely to procede, it is Anselmo Salimbene, the son of our auncient and capital enimies, that hath shewed himself the very loyall and faithful fryend of our family, and hath deliuered your brother by payment to the State, the summe of a Thousand Ducats to raunsome the life of him, who thought him to be his moste cruel aduersary. O Gentleman’s heart in dede and gentle mind, whose rare vertues do surpasse all humaine vnderstanding. Friends vnited together in band of Amitye, amaze the World by the effects not vulgar in things whych they do one for an other. But thys surmounteth all, a mortall Ennimy, not reconcyled or requyred, without demaund of assuraunce for the pleasure which he doth, payeth the debts of his aduersarie: which facte exceedeth all consideration in them, that discouer the factes of men. I can not tel what name to attribute to the deede of Salimbene, and what I ought to call that his curtesy, but this must I needes protest, that the example of his honestie and gentlenes is of sutch force, and so mutch hath vanquished me, as whether I shal dye in payne or lyue at ease, neuer am I able to exceede his lyberality. Now my life being ingaged for that which he hath don to mee, and hee hauynge delyuered the same from infamous Death, it is in your handes (deare sister) to practize the deuyse imagined in my mind, to the intente that I may be onely bound to you for satisfying the liberalitye of Salimbene, by meanes whereof, you which wepte the death and wayled the lost liberty of your Brother, doe see me free and in safety hauyng none other care but to be acquited of hym, to whome both you and I be dearely bound.” Angelica hearyng hir brother speak those words, and knowing that Salimbene was he, that had surpassed all their kinne in amity and comforte of theyr familye, answered her brother, sayinge: “I woulde neuer haue thought (good Brother) that your deliuerance had come to passe by him whose name euen now you tolde, and that our Ennimyes breaking al remembraunce of auncient quarels, had care of the health and conseruation of the Montanines. Wherefore if it were in my power I would satisfy the curtesy and gentlenesse of Anselmo, but I know not which way to begin the same. I being a maid that knoweth not how to recompense a good turne, but by acknowledging the same in heart: and to go to render thanks, it is neither lawfull or comely for me, and mutch lesse to offer him any thynge for the lyttle accesse I haue to his house, and the small familiarity I haue with the Gentlewomen of his kinne. Notwythstanding, Brother, consider you wherein my power resteth to ayde and helpe you, and be assured (myne honor saued) I wyll spare nothynge for your contentment.” “Sister” (sayd Montanine) “I haue of long time debated with my self what is to be done, and deuised what myghte be the occasion that moued this young Gentleman to vse so greate kindnesse toward mee, and hauing diligently pondred and waied what I haue seene and knowne, at length I founde that it was the onely force of Loue, which constrained his affection, and altered the auncient hatred that he bare vs, into new loue, that by no meanes can be quenched. It is the couert fire which Loue hathe kindled in his intrailes, it is loue whych hath raysed the true effects of gentlenesse, and hath consumed the conceipts of displeased mind. O the great force of that amorous alteration, which vppon the sodain exchaung, seemeth impossible to receiue any more chaung or mutation. The onely Beauty and good grace of you Syster, hath induced our gracious Enimy, the seruaunt of your perfections, to delyuer the poore Gentleman forlorn of all good fortune. It is the honest lyfe and commendable behauiour of Angelica Montanine, that hath incyted Anselmo to doe an acte so praise worthy, and a deede so kinde, to procure the deliuerance of one, which looked not for a chaunce of so great consequence. Ah gentle younge gentleman: Ah pryncely minde, and heart noble and magnanimous. Alas how shall it be possyble that euer I can approche the honest liberalitye wherwyth thou hast bound me for euer? My lyfe is thine, myne honour dependeth of thee, my goodes be tyed to thee. What resteth then, if not that you (sister) voyde of cruelty do vse no vnkyndnesse to hym that loueth you, and who for love of you hathe prodygally offred hys owne goodes to ryd me from payne and dyshonor? If so be, my lyfe and sauegarde haue ben acceptable vnto thee, and the sight of me dyscharged from Pryson was ioyful unto thee, if thou gauest thy willing consent that I should sel my patrimony, graunt presently that I may wyth a great, rare, and precious present, requyte the Goodnesse, Pleasure and curtesye that Salimbene hath done for your sake: And syth I am not able with goodes of Fortune to satisfie his bountye, it is your person which may supply that default, to the intent that you and I may be quytted of the oblygation, wherein we stand bound vnto him. It behoueth that for the offer and reward of Money whych he hath imployed, we make present of your Beautye, not selling the pryce of your chastity, but delyueryng the same in exchaunge of curtesye, beyng assured for hys gentlenesse and good Nourtoure sake, hee wyll vse you none otherwyse, or vsurpe any greater authority ouer you, than Vertue permitteth in ech gentle and Noble hearte. I haue none other means of satisfaction, ne larger raumsome to render free my head from the Tribute whych Salimbene hathe gyuen for my Lyfe and Liberty. Thynke (deare Sister) what determinate aunswere you wyll make me, and consider if my request be meete to be denyed. It is in your choise and pleasure to deny or consent to my demaund. If so be that I be denyed and loose the meanes by your refuse to be acquitted of my defender, I had rather forsake my Citye and Countrey, than to lyue heere wyth the title of ingratitude, for not acknowledging so greate a pleasure. But alas, with what Eye, shall I dare behold the Nobility of Siena, if by greate vnkyndnesse I passe vnder silence the rarest friendship that euer was deuised? What heartes sorrow shall I conceyue to bee pointed at wyth the finger, like one that hath forgotten in acknowledging by effecte, the receiued pleasure of my delyueraunce? No (sister) eyther you must bee the quyet of my Minde, and the acquittance of vs bothe, or else must I dye, or wander lyke a vagabond into straunge Countries, and neuer put foote agayne into Italy.” At those words Angelica stode so astonned and confused, and so besides hir selfe, like as wee see one distraught of sense that feeleth himself attached with some amaze of the Palsey. In the end recouering hir sprytes, and bee blubbered al with teares, hir stomacke panting like the Bellowes of a forge, she answeared hir brother in thys manner: “I knowe not louyng Brother by reason of my troubled minde howe to aunswere your demaund, which seemeth to be both ryght, and wronge, right for respect of the bond, not so, in consideration of the request. But how I proue the same, and what reason I can alleadge and discouer for that proofe, hearken me so paciently, as I haue reason to complayne and dispute vpon this chaunce more hard and difficulte to auoyde, than by reply able to be defended, sith that Lyfe and the hazarding thereof is nothing, in regarde of that which you wyll haue me to present with too exceeding prodigall Liberality, and I would to God that Life mighte satisfie the same, than be sure it should so soone be imployed, as the promise made thereof. Alas, good God, I thought that when I sawe my brother out of Pryson, the neare distresse of death, whereunto vniustly he was thrown, I thought (I say) and firmely did beleue, that fortune the Enimy of our ioy, had vomitted al hir poison, and being despoyled of hir fury and crabbed Nature had broken the bloudy and Venemous Arrowes, wherewyth so longe tyme she hath plagued our family, and that by resting of hir selfe, shee had gyuen some rest to the Montanine house of al theyr troubles and misaduentures. But I (O miserable wight) do see and feele how far I am deuided from my hope, and deceiued of mine opinion, sith the furious stepdame, appeareth before me with a face more fierce and threatning, then euer she did, sharpening hir selfe against my youth in other sort, then euer against any of our race. If euer she persecuted our auncesters, if she brought them to ruine and decay, she now doth purpose wholly to subuerte the same, and throw vs headelong into the bottomlesse pit of all misery, exterminating for all tegether, the remnaunte of our consumed house. Be it either by losse of thee (good brother) or the vyolent death of me which cannot hazarde my Chastity for the pryce of myne vnhappy life: Ah, good God, into what anguish is my mynde exponed, and how doe I feele the force and Vyolence of froward Fortune? But what speak I of fortune? How doth hard lucke insue, that is predestinated by the heauens vppon our familly? Must I at so tender yeares, and of so feeble kinde make choyse of a thing, which would put the wysest vpon Earth into their shifts? My heart doth fayle me, reason wanteth and Iudgement hangeth in ballaunce by continuall agitations, to see how I am dryuen to the extremity of two daungerous straits, and enuironned with fearefull ieoperdies, forcibly compelled either to bee deuided and separated from thee (my Brother,) whome I loue aboue mine owne life, and in whome next after God I haue fyxed and put my hope and trust, hauing none other solace, Comfort and helpe, but thee, or else by keping thee, am forced to giue vnto an other, and know not how, the precious treasure which beyng once lost, cannot be recouered by any meanes, and for the gard and conseruation whereof, euery woman of good iudgement that loueth vertue, ought a thousand times to offer hir selfe to death (if so many wayes she could) rather than to blot or soyle that inestimable Iewell of chastity, wherewith our lyfe is a true lyfe: contrarywyse shee which fondly suffreth hir self to be disseazed and spoyled of the same, and looseth it without honest title, albeit she be a lyue, yet is she buryed in the most obscure caue of death, hauing lost the honour which maketh Maydens march with head vpryght. But what goodnesse hath a Ladye, Gentlewoman, Maiden, or Wyfe, wherein she can glory, hir honour being in doubt, and reputatyon darkened with infamie? Whereto serued the imperyall house of Augustus, in those Ladyes that were intituled the Emperour’s Daughters, when for their villany, theyr were vnworthy of the title of chaste and vertuous? What profited Faustina the Emperiall Crowne vpon hir head, hir chastity through hir abhominable Life, being rapt and despoyled? What wronge hath bene done to many symple Women, for being buryed in the Tombe of dark obliuion, which for their vertue and pudique Lyfe, meryted Eternall prayse? Ah Charles, my Brother deare, where hast thou bestowrd the Eye of thy foreseeing mynde, that without prouidence and care of the fame due to honest Dames, and chast Damosels of our Family, hauyng lost the goodes and Fathers inheritance, wilt haue me in like sort forgoe my Chastity, whych hytherto I haue kept with heedeful dilygence. Wilte thou deare Brother, by the pryce of my virginity, that Anselmo shall haue greater victorye ouer vs, than he hath gotten by fight of Sword vpon the allied remnaunt of our house? Art thou ignorant that the woundes and diseases of the Mynd, be more vehement than those which afflict the Body? Ah I vnhappy mayden, and what ill lucke is reserued for me, what destiny hath kept me till this day to be presented for Venus’ Sacrifice, to satisfy a young manne’s lust, which coueteth (peraduenture) but the spoile of mine honor? O happy the Romain maide, slayne by the proper hands of hir woeful Father Virginius, that she myght not be soyled with infamy, by the Lecherous embracements of rauenous Appius, which desired hir acquaintaunce. Alas, that my brother doe not so, rather I woulde to God of his owne accord he be the infamous minister of my life ready to be violated, if God by his grace take not my cause in hand? Alas death, why dost thou not throwe against my hearte thy most pearcing dart, that I may goe waite vpon the shadowes of my thryce happy Parents, who knowing this my gryefe, wyll not be voide of passion to helpe me wayle my woefull state. O God, why was not I choaked and strangled, so soone as I was taken forth the secret imbracements of my mother’s Wombe, rather than to arriue into this mishap, that either must I lose the thing I deeme moste deare, or die with the violence of my proper hands? Come death, come and cut the vnhappy threede of my woefull Lyfe: stope the pace of teares with thy trenchant Darte that streame outragiously downe my face, and close the breathing wind of sighes, which hynder thee from doing thine office vpon my heart, by suffocation of my lyfe and it.” When she had ended those Words, hir speache dyd faile, and waxing pale and faint, (sitting vppon hir stoole) she fared as though that very death had sitten in hir place. Charles thynking that his sister had bene deade, mated with sorrowe, and desirous to lyue no longer after hir, seeing he was the cause of that sownyng, fell downe dead vpon the Ground, mouing neither hand nor foote, as though the soule had ben departed from the bodye. At the noyse which Montanine made by reason of hys fall, Angelica reuiued out of hir sowne, and seeinge hir Brother in so pytifull plyght, and supposing he had bene dead for care of hys request, for beyng berieued of hir Brother, was so moued, as a lyttle thynge would haue made hir do, as Thisbe dyd, when she viewed Pyramus to be slayne. But conceyuing hope, she threw hir selfe vppon hir Brother, cursing hir Fortune, bannyng the Starres of cruelty, and hir lauish speach, and hir self for hir little loue to hir brother, who made no refusall to dye to saue his Lande for reliefe of hir: wher she denyed to yeld hir selfe to him that loued hir with so good affection. In the end she applied so many remedies vnto hir brother, sometimes casting cold water vpon his face, sometimes pinching and rubbing the temples and pulses of his armes and his mouth with vineger, that she made hym to come agayne: and seeing that his eyes were open, beholding hir intentiuely with the countenance of a man half in despayre, she saied vnto him: “For so mutch brother as I see fortune to be so froward, that by no meanes thou canst auoide the cruel lot, which launceth me into the bottome of mortall misery, and that I must aduenture to folowe the indeuors of thy minde, and obey thy will, which is more gentle and Noble, than fraught with reason, I am content to satisfy the same and the loue which hitherto thou hast born me. Be of good cheere, and doe wyth mee and my body what thou list, giue and presente the same to whom thou pleasest. Wel be thou sure, that so sone as I shal bee out of thy hands and power, I wyl be called or esteemed thine no more, and thou shalt haue lesse authority to stay me from doing the deuises of my fantasie, swearing and protesting by the Almighty God, that neuer man shall touch Angelica, except it be in mariage, and that if he assay to passe any further, I haue a heart that shall incourage my hands to sacrifice my Life to the Chastitye of Noble Dames whych had rather dye than liue in slaunder of dyshonesty. I wyll die a body without defame, and the Mynde voyde of consent, shall receiue no shame or filth that can soyle or spot the same.” In saying so, she began againe to weepe in sutch aboundance, as the humour of hir brayne ranne downe by the issue of bothe hir Eyes. Montanine albeit sorrowful beyond measure to see his gentle and chast sister in sutch vexation and heauinesse, reioysed yet in his mind, that she had agreed to his request, which presaged the good lucke that afterwardes chaunced vnto him, for hys Lyberal offer. “Wherefore” (said he to Angelica,) “I was neuer in my Lyfe so desirous to liue, but that I rather choose to dye, than procure a thinge that should turne thee to displeasure and griefe, or to hazarde thine honor and reputation in daunger or peryll of damage, which thou hast euer knowne, and shouldest haue still perceyued by effect, or more properly to speak, touched with thy finger if that incomparable and rare curtesy and Lyberality of Salimbene had not prouoked me to requyre that, which honestly thou canst not gyue, nor I demaunde without wronge to thee, and preiudice to mine owne estimation and honoure. But what? the feare I haue to be deemed ingrate, hath made me forget thee, and the great honesty of Anselmo maketh me hope, yea and stedfastly beleue, that thou shalt receiue none other displeasure, but to be presented vnto him whome at other times we haue thought to be our mortal enimy. And I thinke it impossible that he wil vse any villany to hir whome he so feruently loueth, for whose sake he feareth not the hatred of his friends, and disdained not to save him whome he hated, and on whome he myght haue bene reuenged. And forsomutch sister, as the face commonly sheweth the signe and token of the hearte’s affection, I pray thee by any meanes declare no sad countenaunce in the presence of Salimbene, but rather cheere vp thy face, dry vp the aboundance of thy teares, that he by seeing thee Ioyfull and mery, may be moued to continue his curtesy and use thee honestly, being satisfied with thy liberality, and the offer that I shall make of our seruice.” Here may be seene the extremitie of two dyuers thinges, duety combatting with shame, reason being in contention with himself. Angelica knew and confessed that hir brother did but his duetye, and that she was bound by the same very bond. On the other side, hir estate and virginall chastity, brake the endeuours of hir duety, and denyed to doe that which she esteemed ryght. Neuerthelesse shee prepared hir self to follow both the one and the other: and by acquitting the duety to hir brother, she ordayned the meane, to discharge him of that which he was bound to his benefactor, determinynge neuerthelesse rather to dye, than shamefully to suffer hir selfe to be abused, or to make hir lose the floure, which made hir glyster amongs the maidens of the city, and to deface hir good fame by an acte so vyllanous. But that speciall rare vertue was more singular in hir, than was that continency of Cyrus the Persian King, who fearing to be forced by the allurements of the excellent beauty of chast Panthea, would not suffer hir to be brought into his presence, for feare that hee being surmounted with folysh lustes, should force hir, that by other meanes could not be persuaded to breake the holy lawes of Mariage, and promised faith to hir husband. For Salimbene hauing in his presence, and at his commaundement hir whome aboue al thyngs he loued would by no meanes abuse his power, but declared his gentle nature to bee of other force and effect, than that of the aforesaid king as by reading the successe of this historie you shal perceiue. After that Montanine and his sister had vttered many other words vpon their determination, and that the fayre maiden was appeased of hir sorrow, attending the issue of that which they went about to begin: Anselmo was come home out of the Countrey, whereof Charles hauing intelligence, about the second houre of the night, he caused his sister to make hir ready, and in company of one of their seruants that caried light before them, they came to the lodginge of Salimbene, whose seruaunt seeing Montanine so accompanied to knocke at the Gate, if hee did maruel I leaue for you to think, by reason of the displeasure and hatred which he knew to bee betweene the two families, not knowing that which had already passed for the heginning of a final peace of so many controuersies: for which cause so astonned as he was, he went to tel his maister that Montanine was at the gate, desirous secretly to talk vnto him. Salimbene knowing what company Charles had with him, was not vnwilling to goe downe, and causing two Torches to be lighted, came to his gate to entertaine them, and to welcome the brother and the sister, wyth so great curtesie and friendship as he was surprysed with loue, seeing before his eyes the sight of hir that burned hys heart incessantly, not discoueryng as yet the secrets of his thought by making hir to vnderstand the good wyl he bare hir, and how mutch he was hir seruant. He could not tel wel whether he was incharmed or his eyes daselled, or not wel wakened from sleepe when he saw Angelica, so amazed was he with the straungenesse of the fact, and arriuall of the maiden to his house. Charles seeing hym so confused, and knowing that the great affection he bare vnto his sister, made him so perplexed and besides himself, said vnto him: “Sir, we would gladly speake with you in one of your Chambers, that there myght be none other witnesse of our dyscourse, but we three together.” Salimbene which was wrapt wyth ioy, was able to make none other aunsweare, but: “Goe we whether you please.” So taking his Angelica by the hand, they went into the Hall, and from thence into his chamber, whych was furnyshed accordinge to the state and riches of a Lord, he being one of the welthiest and chiefe of the City of Siena. When they were set downe, and al the seruants gone forth, Charles began to say to Salimbene, these words: “You may not thinke it straunge (sir Salimbene) if against the Lawes and customes of our Common Wealthe, I at thys tyme of the Nyght doe call you vp, for knowyng the Bande wherewyth I am bound vnto you, I must for euer confesse and count my selfe to be your slaue and bondman, you hauing don a thing in my behalf that deserueth the name of Lord and maister. But what vngrateful man is he that wil forget so greate a benefit, as that which I haue receyued of you, holding of you, life, goods, honor, and this mine own sister that enioyeth by your meanes the presence of hir brother and hir rest of mind, not losing our noble reputation by the losse prepared for me through vnrighteous iudgement, you hauing staied the ruine both of hir and me, and the rest of our house and kin. I am ryghte glad sir, that this my duety and seruice is bounden to so vertuous a Gentleman as you be, but exceeding sorry, that fortune is so froward and contrary vnto me, that I am not able to accomplishe my good will, and if ingratitude may lodge in mind of a neady Gentleman, who hath no helpe but of himselfe, and in the wyll of hys chast sister, and minde vnited in two persons onely saued by you, duety doeth requyre to present the rest, and to submit al that is left to be disposed at your good pleasure. And bicause that I am well assured, that it is Angelica alone which hath kindled the flame of desire, and hath caused you to loue that which your predecessours haue deadly hated, that same sparke of knowledge, whych our misery could not quench with all his force, hath made the way and shewed the path whereby we shall auoide the name of ingrate and forgetfull persons, and that same which hath made you lyberall towards me, shalbe bountifully bestowed vpon you. It is Angelica sir, which you see present heere, who to discharge my band, hath willingly rendred to be your owne, submittinge hir selfe to your good wyll, for euer to be youres. And I which am hir brother, and haue receiued that great good wyll of hir, as in my power to haue hir wyl, do present the same, and leaue hir in your hands, to vse as you would your owne, praying you to accept the same, and to consider whose is the gift, and from whence it commeth, and how it ought to be regarded.” When he had sayd so, Montanine rose vp, and without further talke, went home vnto his house. If Anselmo were abashed at the Montanines arriuall, and astonned at the Oration of Charles, his sodain departure was more to be maruelled at, and therwithal to see the effect of a thing which he neuer hoped, nor thought vpon. He was exceding glad and ioyfull to see himself in the company of hir, whome he desired aboue al things of the world, but sory to see hir heauy and sorrowful for sutch chaunce. He supposed hir being ther, to procede rather of the yong man’s good and gentle Nature, than of the Maiden’s will and lykynge. For whych cause taking hir by the hand, and holding hir betwene hys armes, he vsed these or sutch lyke words: “Gentlewoman, if euer I had felt and knowne with what Wing the variety and lyghtnesse of worldly thynges do flye, and the gaynes of inconstant fortune, at this present I haue seen one of the most manifest profes which seemeth to me so straunge, as almost I dare not beeleue that I see before myne Eyes. I know well that it is for you, and for the seruice that I beare you, that I haue broken the effect of that hatred, whych by inheritaunce I haue receiued against your House, and for that deuotion haue deliuered your Brother. But I see that Fortune wyll not let mee to haue the vpper hand, to bee the Conquerer of hir sodaine pangs. But you your self shall see, and euery man shall know that my heart is none other than noble, and my deuises tend, but to the exploit of all vertue and Gentlenesse: wherefore I pray you (sayd he, kissing hir louingly) be not sad, and doubt not that your seruaunt is any other now, hauing you in his power, than he was when he durst not dyscouer the ardent Loue that vexed him, and held him in feeble state, ful of desire and thought: you also may bee sure, that he hath not had the better hande ouer me, ne yet for his curtesy hath obteined victory, nor you for obeying him. For sith that you be myne, and for sutch yelded and giuen to me, I wyl keepe you, as hir whome I loue and esteme aboue al things of the World, makyng you my Companion and the onely mistresse of my goodes heart, and wyll. Thinke not that I am the Fryend of Fortune, and practise pleasure alone without vertue. It is modesty which commaundeth me, and honesty is the guide of my conceipts. Assure you then, and repose your comfort on mee: for none other than Angelica Montanine shall be the wyfe of Anselmo Salimbene: and during my life, I wyll bee the Fryend, the defender and supporter of your house.” At these good Newes, the drousie and wandryng Spirite of the fayre Siena mayd awaked, who endyng hir teares and appeasing hir sorrow, rose vp, and made a very lowe reuerence vnto hir curteous fryend, thanking hym for hys greate and incomparable liberalitye, promising all seruice, duetie, and Amitye, that a Gentlewoman ought to beare vnto him, whom God hath reserued for hir Spouse and husband. After an infinite number of honest imbracements and pleasaunte kisses giuen and receiued on both partes, Anselmo called vnto him one of his Auntes that dwelled within him, to whome he deliuered his new Conquest to keepe, and spedily without delay he sent for the next of his Kinne and dearest friends: and being come, he intreated them to kepe him company, in a very vrgent and weighty businesse he had to do, wherein if they shewed themselues dilygent in his request, doubtful it is not, but he addressed speede for accomplishment of his Enterpryse. Then causyng hys Aunte and welbeloued Angelica to come forth, he carryed them (not without their great admiration) to the pallace of Montanine, whither being arryued: he and hys Companie were well intertayned of the sayd Montanine, the Brother of fayre Angelica. When they were in the Hall, Salimbene sayd to hys Brother in law that should be: “Senio Montanine, it is not long sithens, that you in company of my faire Gentlewoman heere, came home to speake wyth mee, desirous to haue no man priuy to the effect of your conference. But I am come to you with this troupe to disclose my minde before you al, and to manifeste what I purpose to doe, to the intente the whole World may know your good and honest Nature, and vnderstand how I can be requited on them, which indeuor to gratifie me in any thing.” Hauing said so, and euery man being set down he turned his talk to the rest of the company in thys wise: “I doubt not my friends and Noble Dames, but that ye mutch muse and maruell to see me in this house so late, and in your company, and am sure, that a great desire moueth your minds to know for what purpose, the cause, and why I haue gathered this assemblie in a time vnlooked for, and in place where none of our race and kinne of long time did enter, and lesse did meane to make hither their repaire. But when you doe consider what vertue and goodnesse resteth in the heartes of those men, that shunne and auoide the brutyshnesse of Minde, to followe the reasonable part, and which proprely is called Spirituall, you shall thereby perceiue, that when Gentle kynde and Noble Heart, by the great mistresse dame Nature be gryfted in the myndes of Men, they cease not to make appeare the effect of their doings, sometyme producing one vertue, sometimes another, which cease not to cause the fruicte of sutch industry both to blome and beare: In sutch wyse, as the more those vertuous actes and commendable workes, do appeare abroade, the greater dyligence is imployed to searche the matter wherein she can cause to appeare the force of vertue and excellency, conceiuing singular delyghte in that hir good and holy delyuery, which bryngeth forth a fruict worthy of sutch a stocke. And that force of mind and Generosity of Noble Heart is so firme and sure in operation, as although humane thinges be vnstable and subiect to chaung, yet they cannot be seuered or disparcled. And although it be the Butte and white, whereat fortune dischargeth al hir dartes and shaftes, threatning shooting and assayling the same round, yet it continueth stable and firme like a Rocke and Clyffe beaten wyth the vyolent fury of waues rising by wind or tempest. Whereby it chaunceth, that riches and dignity can no more aduaunce the heart of a slaue and villaine, than pouerty make vile and abase the greatnesse of courage in them that be procreated of other stuffe than of common sorte, whych daily keepe the maiesty of their oryginall, and lyve after the instincte of good and Noble Bloude, wherewith their auncesters were made Noble, and sucked the same vertue oute of the Teates of Noursses Breasses, who in the myddes of troublesome trauayles of Fortune that doe assayle them, and depresse theyr modesty, their face and Countenaunce, and theyr factes full well declare theyr condition, and to doe to vnderstande, that vnder sutch a Misery, a Mynde is hydde which deserueth greater Guerdon than the eigre taste of Calamitye. In that dyd glowe and shyne the Youthe of the Persian and Median Monarch, beynge nourssed amonges the stalles and Stables of hys Grandfather, and the gentle kind of the founder of stately Rome sockeled in the Shepecoates of Prynces sheepehierds. Thus mutch haue I sayd, my good lords and dames, in consideration of the noble corage and gentle minde of Charles Montanine, and of his sister, who without preiudice to any other I dare to say, is the paragon and mirrour of all chast and curteous maidens, well trayned vp, amonges the whole Troupe of those that lyue thys day in Siena, who beeyng brought to the ende and last poynt of their ruine, as euery of you doth knowe, and theyr race so sore decayed as there remayneth but the onely Name of Montanine: notwythstanding they neuer lost the heart, desire, ne yet the effect of the curtesy, and naturall bounty, whych euer doth accompany the mynd of those that be Noble in deede. Whych is the cause that I am constrayned to accuse our Auncesters, of to mutch cruelty, and of the lyttle respecte whych for a controuersye occured by chaunce, haue pursued them with sutch mortall reuenge, as without ceasing, with all their force, they haue assayed to ruinate, abolyshe, and for euer adnichilate that a ryghte Noble and illustre race of the Montanines, amongs whome if neuer any goodnesse appeared to the Worlde, but the Honesty, Gentlenesse, Curtesy and vertuous maners of these twayne here presente, the Brother and sister, yet they ought to be accompted amonges the ranke of the Noblest and chiefest of our City, to the intent in time to come it may not be reported, that wee haue esteemed and chearyshed Riches and drossie mucke, more than vertue and modesty. But imitating those excellent gouerners of Italy, whych held the Romane Empire, let vs rather reuerence the Vertuous Poore, than prayse or pryse the Rich, gyuen to vice and wickednesse. And for so mutch as I do see you all to be desirous to knowe the cause and argument, whych maketh me to vse this talke, and forceth mee to prayse the curtesy and goodnesse of the Montanines, pleaseth you to stay a lyttle with pacience, and not think the tyme tedyous, I meane to declare the same. Playnely to confesse vnto you (for that it is no cryme of Death, or heinous offence) the gyfts of nature, the Beauty and comelynesse of fayre Angelica heere present, haue so captiuate my Mind, and depriued my heart of Lyberty, as Night and Day trauailing how I might discouer vnto hir my martirdom, I did consume in sutch wyse, as losing lust of slepe and meate, I feared ere long to be either dead of sorrow or estranged of my right wits, seing no meanes how I might auoide the same, bicause our two houses and Families were at contynuall debate: and albeit conflicts were ceased, and quarelles forgotten, yet there rested (as I thought) a certaine desire both in the one and the other of offence, when time and occasion did serue. And yet mine affection for all that was not decreased, but rather more tormented, and my gryefe increased, hopelesse of help, which now is chaunced to me as you shall heare. You do know, and so do all men, howe wythin these fewe dayes past, the Lord Montanine here present, was accused before the Seniorie, for trespasses against the statutes and Edicts of the same, and being Prysoner, hauing not wherewith to satisfie the condempnation, the Law affirmed that his life should recompence and supply default of Money. I not able to suffer the want of hym, which is the brother of the dearest thing I esteeme in the Worlde, and hauing not hir in possession, nor lyke without him to attayne hir, payed that Summe, and delyuered hym. He, by what meanes I know not, or how he coniectured the beneuolence of my deede, thynking that it proceeded of the honest Loue and affection which I bare to gracious and amiable Angelica, wel consideryng of my curtesy, hath ouercome me in prodigalitye, he this Nyght came vnto mee, with his sister my mistresse, yelding hir my slaue and Bondwoman, leauyng hir with me, to doe with hir as I would with any thing I had. Behold my good Lordes, and yee Noble Ladies and cosins, and consider how I may recompence this Benefit, and be able to satisfie a present so precious, and of sutch Value and regard as both of them be, sutch as a right puissant prince and Lord may be contented wyth, a duety so Liberall and Iewell inestymable of two offered thynges.” The assistants that were there, could not tell what to say, the discourse had so mutch drawne their myndes into dyuers fantasies and contrary opinions, seing that the same requyred by deliberation to be considered, before lightly they vttred their mindes. But they knew not the intent of him, which had called them thither, more to testify his fact, than to iudge of the thing he went about, or able to hinder and let the same. True it is, that the ladies viewing and marking the amiable countenance of the Montanine Damsell, woulde haue iudged for hir, if they feared not to bee refused of hym, whome the thing did touche most neere. Who without longer staye, opened to them al, what he was purposed to do, saying: “Sith ye do spende time so long vpon a matter already meant and determyned, I wyll ye to knowe, that hauing regard of mine honour, and desirous to satisfie the honesty of the Brother and sister, I mynde to take Angelica to my wyfe and lawfull spouse, vniting that whych so long tyme hath bene deuyded, and making into two bodyes, whilom not well accorded and agreed, one like and vniforme wyll, praying you ech one, ioyfully to ioy with me, and your selues to reioyse in that alliaunce, whych seemeth rather a worke from Heauen, than a deede concluded by the Counsell and industrie of Men. So lykewyse all wedded feeres in holy Wedlocke (by reason of the effect and the Author of the same, euen God himselfe, whych dyd ordayne it firste) bee wrytten in the infallible booke of hys owne prescience, to the intent that nothing may decay, whych is sustayned wyth the mighty hand of that Almyghty God, the God of wonders, which verily hee hath displayed ouer thee (deare Brother) by makynge thee to fall into distresse and daunger of death, that myne Angelica, beeing the meane of thy delyueraunce, myght also bee cause of the attonement which I doe hope henceforth shall bee, betwene so Noble houses as ours be.” Thys finall decree reueled in open audience, as it was, against their expectation, and the ende that the kindred of Anselmo looked for, so was the same no lesse straunge and bashfull, as ioyful and pleasaunt, feeling a sodain ioy, not accustomed in theyr mynde, for that vnion and allyaunce. And albeit that their ryches was vnequall, and the dowry of Angelica nothyng neare the great wealth of Salimbene, yet all Men dyd deeme him happy, that hee had chaunced vpon so vertuous a maiden, the onely Modestie and Integritie of whome, deserued to bee coupled wyth the most honourable. For when a man hath respecte onely to the beauty or Riches of hir, whome he meaneth to take to Wyfe, hee moste commonly doth incurre the Mischiefe, that the Spyrite of dyssention intermeddleth amyd theyr household, whereby Pleasuere vanishing wyth Age, maketh the riueled Face (beset wyth a Thousand wrynkeled furrowes) to growe pale and drye. The Wyfe lykewyse when she seeth her goodes to surmount the substance of hir wedded Husband, she aduaunceth hir hearte, she swelleth wyth pryde, indeuoryng the vpper hand and souerainty in all thyngs, whereupon it riseth, that of two frayle and transitorie things, the building which hath so fyckle foundation, can not indure, man being borne to commaund, and can not abyde a mayster ouer hym, beyng the chyefe and Lord of hys Wyfe. Now Salimbene, to perfourme the effect of hys curtesie, gaue his fayre Wife the moytie of his Lands and goods, in fauoure of the Mariage, adopting by that meanes, Montanine to bee his Brother, appointing hym to be heyre of all hys goodes in case he deceased wythout heyres of his Body. And if God did send hym Children, he instituted him to bee the heyre of the other halfe, which rested by hys donation to Angelica his new espouse: Whom he maried solempnely the Sunday folowing, to the great contentation and maruell of the whole City, which long time was afflicted by the ciuile dissentions of those two houses. But what? Sutch be the varieties of worldly successe, and sutch is the mischiefe amongs men, that the same which honesty hath no power to winne, is surmounted by the disgrace and misfortune of wretched time. I neede not to alleage here those amongs the Romanes, which from great hatred and malice were reconciled with the indissoluble knot of Amity; forsomutch as the dignyties and Honoures of theyr Citty prouoked one to flatter and fawne vpon an other for particular profit, and not one of them attained to sutch excellencie and renoume, as the foresayd did, one of whome was vanquyshed with the fire of an amorous passion, whych forcyng nature hir selfe, brought that to passe, which could neuer haue bene thoughte or imagyned. And yet Men wyll accuse loue, and painte hir in the Colours of foolysh Furye and raging Madnesse. No, no, Loue in a gentle heart is the true subiect and substance of Vertue, Curtesy, and Modest Manners, expellynge all Cruelty and Vengeance, and nourishyng peace amongs men. But if any do violate and prophane the holy Lawes of Loue, and peruert that which is Vertuous, the faulte is not in that holye Saincte but in hym whych foloweth it wythout skyll, and knoweth not the perfection. As hapneth in euery operation, that of it selfe is honest, although defamed by those, who thinking to vse it, doe filthily abuse the same, and cause the grosse and ignoraunte to condempne that is good, for the folye of sutch inconstant fooles: In the other is painted a heart so voyde of the blody and abhominable sinne of Ingratitude, as if death had ben the true remedy and meane to satisfie his band and duety, he would haue made no conscience to offer himselfe frankly and freely to the dreadful passage of the same. You see what is the force of a gentle heart wel trained vp, that would not be vanquished in curtesye and Lyberality. I make you to be iudges, (I meane you) that be conuersant in loue’s causes, and that with a Iudgement passionlesse, voide of parciality doe dyscourse vppon the factes and occurrentes that chaunce to men. I make you (I saye) iudges to gyue sentence, whether of three caried away the pryse, and most bound his companion by lyberall acte, and curtesie not forced. You see a mortall enimy sorrow for the misery of his aduersary, but solycited therunto by the ineuitable force of Loue. The other marcheth with the glory of a present so rare and exquisite, as a great Monarch would haue accompted it for singuler fauor and prodigality. The maiden steppeth forth to make the third in ranke, wyth a loue so stayed and charity wonderfull towards hir brother, as being nothynge assured whether he to whome she offered hir selfe were so Moderate, as Curteous, she yeldeth hir selfe to the losse of hir chastity. The first assayeth to make himselfe a conquerour by mariage, but she diminishyng no iote of hir Noble mind, he must seeke else where hys pryse of victory. To hir a desyre to kyll hir selfe (if thinges succeeded contrary to hir minde) myght haue stopped the way to hir great glory, had she not regarded hir virginity, more than hir own Lyfe. The second seemeth to go half constrained, and by maner of acquitall, and had hys affectyon bene to render hymselfe Slaue to hys Foe, hys Patron and preseruer, it would haue diminished his prayse. But sithens inough wee haue hereof dyscoursed, and bene large in treatie of Tragicomicall matters, intermyxed and suaged (in some parte) wyth the Enteruiewes of dolor, modesty, and indifferente good hap, and in some wholly imparted the dreadfull endes like to terrible beginnings, I meane for a reliefe, and after sutch sowre sweete bankets, to interlarde a licorous refection for sweeting the mouthes of the delicate: And do purpose in this Nouell insuing, to manifest a pleasaunt disport betweene a Wydow and a Scholler, a passing Practise of a crafty Dame, not well schooled in the discipline of Academicall rules, a surmountinge science to trade the nouices of that forme, by ware foresight, to incountre those that by laborsome trauayle and nightly watch, haue studied the rare knowledge of Mathematicalles, and other hidden and secrete Artes. Wishing them so well to beware, as I am desirous to let them know by this rudiment, the successe of sutch attemptes.