There was one named, Muſciatto Franceſi, who from beeing a moſt rich and great merchant in France, was become a Knight, and preparing to go into Tuſcany, with Monſieur Charles without Land, Brother to the King of France (who vvas deſired and incited to come thither by Pope Boniface) foūd his affaires greatly intricated here and there (as oftentimes the matters of Merchants fall out to bee) and that very hardly hee ſhould ſodainly vnintangle them, without referring the charge of them to diuers perſons. And for all he tooke indifferent good order, onely he remained doubtfull, whom he might ſufficiently leaue, to recouer his debts among many Burgundians. And the rather was his care the more herein, becauſe he knew the Burgundians to be people of badde nature, rioters, brablers, full of calumny, and without any faithfulneſſe: ſo that he could not bethinke himſelfe of any man (how wicked ſoeuer he was) in whom he might repoſe truſt to meete with their lewdneſſe. Hauing a long while examined his thoughts vpon this point, at laſt hee remembred one maſter Chappelet du Prat, who ofttimes had reſorted to his houſe in Paris. And becauſe he was a man of little ſtature, yet handſom enough, the French not knowing what this word Chappelet might mean, eſteeming he ſhould be called rather (in their tongue) Chappell; imagined, that in regard of his ſmall ſtature, they termed him Chappelet, and not Chappell, and ſo by the name of Chappelet he was euery where known, and by few or none acknowledged for Chappel.

This maſter Chappelet, was of ſo good and commendable life; that, being a Notarie, he held it in high diſdaine, that any of his Contractes (although he made but few) ſhould be found without falſhoode. And looke how many ſoeuer hee dealt withall, he would be vrged and required thereto, offering them his paines and trauaile for nothing, but to be requited otherwiſe then by money; which prooued to bee his much larger recompencing, and returned to him the farre greater benefit. Hee tooke the onely pleaſure of the world, to beare falſe witneſſe, if hee were thereto entreated, and (oftentimes) when hee was not requeſted at all. Likewiſe, becauſe in thoſe times, great truſt and beleefe was giuen to an oath, he making no care or conſcience to be periured: greatly aduantaged himſelfe by Law ſuites, in regard that many matters relyed vpon his oath, and deliuering the truth according to his knowledge.

He delighted (beyond meaſure) and addicted his beſt ſtudies, to cauſe enmities & ſcandals between kindred and friends, or any other perſons, agreeing well together; and the more miſchiefe he could procure in this kind, ſo much the more pleaſure and delight tooke he therein. If he were called to kil any one, or to do any other villanous deede, he neuer would make deniall, but go to it very willingly; and diuers times it was wel knowen, that many were cruelly beaten, ye ſlainc by his hands. Hee was a moſt horrible blaſphemer of God and his Saints, vpon the very leaſt occaſion, as being more addicted to choller, then any other man could be. Neuer would he frequent the Church, but baſely contemned it, with the Sacraments and religious rites therein adminiſtred, accounting them for vile and vnprofitable things: but very voluntarily would viſit Tauernes, and other places of diſhoneſt acceſſe, which were continually pleaſing vnto him, to ſatisfie his luſt and inordinate lubricitie. Hee would ſteale both in publike and priuate, euen with ſuch a conſcience, as if it were giuen to him by nature ſo to do. He was a great glutton and a drunkarde, euen till he was not able to take any more: being alſo a continuall gameſter, and carrier of falſe Dice, to cheate with them the verie beſt Friendes he had.

But why do I waſte time in ſuch extent of words? When it may ſuffice to ſay, that neuer was there a worſe man borne; whoſe wickedneſſe was for long time ſupported, by the fauour, power, and Authoritie of Monſieur Muſciatto, for whoſe ſ • ke many wrongs and iniuries were patiently endured, as well by priuate perſons (whom hee would abuſe notoriouſly) as others of the Court, beeweene whom he made no difference at all in his vile dealing. This Maſter Chappelet, being thus remembred by Muſciatto (who very well knew his life and behauiour) he perfectly perſwaded himſelfe, that this was a man apt in all reſpects, to meete with the treachery of the Burgundians: whereupon, hauing ſent for him, thus he beganne.

Chappelet, thou knoweſt how I am wholly to retreate my ſelfe from hence, and hauing ſome affaires among the Burgundians, men full of wickedneſſe and deceite; I can bethinke my ſelfe of no meeter a man then Chappelet, to recouer ſuch debts as are due to me among them. And becauſe it falleth out ſo well, that thou art not now hindered by any other buſineſſe; if thou wilt vndergoe this office for me, I will procure thee fauourable Letters from the Court, and giue thee a reaſonable portion in all thou recouereſt. Maſter Chappelet, ſeeing himſelfe idle, and greedy after worldly goods, conſidering that Mounſieur Muſciatto (who had beene alwayes his beſt buckler) was now to depart from thence, without any dreaming on the matter, and conſtrained thereto (as it were) by neceſſity, ſet downe his reſolution, and anſwered that hee would gladly doe it.

Hauing made their agreement together, and receiued from Muſciatto his expreſſe procuration, as alſo the Kings gracious Letters; after that Muſciatto was gone on his iourney,To Borgogna ſaith the Italian. Maſter Chappelet went to Dijon, where he was vnknowne (well neere) of any. And there (quite from his naturall diſpoſition) he beganne benignely and graciouſly, in recouering the debts due; which courſe he tooke the rather, becauſe they ſhould haue a further feeling of him in the ende. Being lodged in the houſe of two Florentine brethren, that liued on their monies vſance; and (for Mounſieur Muſciattoes ſake) vſing him with honour and reſpect: It fortuned that he fell ſicke, and the two brethren ſent for Phyſicions to attend him, allowing their ſeruants to be diligent about him, making no ſpare of any thing, which gaue the beſt likelyhood of reſtoring his health. But all their paines proued to no purpoſe, becauſe he (honeſt man) being now growne aged, and hauing liued all his life time very diſordredly, fell day by day (according to the Phyſicions iudgement) from bad to worſe, as no other way appeared but death, whereat the brethren greatly greeued.

Vpon a day, neere to the Chamber where the ſicke man lay, they entred into this communication. What ſhall we doe (quoth the one to the other) with this man? We are much hindered by him; for to ſend him away (ſicke as he is) we ſhall be greatly blamed thereby, and it will be a manifeſt note of our weake wiſedome: the people knowing that firſt of all we gaue him entertainement, and haue allowed him honeſt phyſical attendance, and he not hauing any way iniuried or offended vs, to let him be ſuddenly expulſed our houſe (ſicke to death as he is) it can be no way for our credit.

On the other ſide, we are to conſider alſo, that he hath bin ſo badde a man, as he will not now make any confeſſion thereof, neither receiue the bleſſed Sacrament of the Church, and dying ſo without confeſſion; there is no Church that wil accept his body, but it muſt be buried in prophane ground, like to a Dogge. And yet if he would confeſſe himſelfe, his ſinnes are ſo many and monſtrous; as the like caſe alſo may happen, becauſe there is not any Prieſt or Religious perſon, that can or will abſolue him. And being not abſolued, he muſt be caſt into ſome ditch or pit, and then the people of the Towne, as well in regard of the account we carry heere, (which to them appeareth ſo little pleaſing, as we are daily purſued with their worſt words) as alſo coueting our ſpoile and ouerthrow; vpon this accident will cry out and mutiny againſt vs; Beholde theſe Lombard dogs, which are not to be receiued into the Church, why ſhould we ſuffer them to liue heere among vs? In furious madneſſe wil they come vpon vs, and our houſe, where (peraduenture) not contented with robbing vs of our goods, our liues will remaine in their mercy and danger; ſo that, in what ſort ſoeuer it happen, this mans dying heere, muſt needs be banefull to vs.

Maſter Chappelet, who (as we haue formerly ſaide) was lodged neere to the place where they thus conferred, hauing a ſubtle attention (as oftentimes we ſee ſicke perſons to bee poſſeſſed withall) heard all theſe ſpeeches ſpoken of him, and cauſing them to be called vnto him, thus hee ſpake.

I would not haue you to be any way doubtfull of me; neither that you ſhold receiue the leaſt damage by me: I haue heard what you haue ſaid, and am certaine, that it will happen according to your words, if matters ſhould fall out as you conceite; but I am minded to deale otherwiſe. I haue committed ſo many offences againſt our Lord God, in the vvhole current of my life; that now I intend one action at the hour of my death, which I truſt will make amends for all. Procure therefore, I pray you, that the moſt holy and religious man that is to be found (if there bee any one at all) may come vnto me, and referre the caſe then to me, for I will deale in ſuch ſort for you and my ſelfe, that all ſhall be well, and you no way diſcontented.

The two Brethren, although they had no great hope in his ſpeeches, went yet to a Monaſtery of Gray-Friars, and requeſted; that ſome one holy and learned man, might come to heare the confeſſion of a Lombard, that lay verie weake and ſicke in their houſe. And one was granted vnto them, beeing an aged religious Frier, a great read maſter in the ſacred Scriptures, a very venerable perſon, who beeing of good and ſanctified life, all the Citizens held him in great reſpect & eſteem, and on he went with thē to their houſe. When he was come vp into the Chamber wher Maſter Chappelet lay, and being there ſeated downe by him; he beganne firſt to comfort him very louingly, demanding alſo of him, howe many times he had bin at confeſſion? Whereto maſter Chappelet (who neuer had bin ſhriuen in all his life time) thus replied.

Holy Father, I alwayes vſed (as a common cuſtome) to bee confeſſed once (at the leaſt) euery weeke, albeit ſometimes much more often) but true it is, that being faln into this ſickneſſe, now eight dayes ſince; I haue not bene confeſt, ſo violent hath bene the extremity of my weakneſſe. My ſonne (anſwered the good old man) thou haſt done well, and ſo keep thee ſtill hereafter in that minde: but I plainly perceiue, ſeeing thou haſt ſo often confeſſed thy ſelfe, that I ſhall take the leſſe labour in vrging queſtions to thee.

Maſter Chappelet replied: Say not ſo good Father, for albeit I haue bene ſo oftentimes confeſſed, yet am I willing now to make a generall confeſſion, euen of all ſinnes comming to my remembrance, from the very day of my birth, vntil this inſtant houre of my ſhrift. And therefore I intreate you (holy Father) to make a particular demand of euery thing, euen as if I had neuer bene confeſſed at al, and to make no reſpect of my ſickneſſe: for I had rather be offenſiue to mine owne fleſh, then by fauoring or allowing it eaſe, to hazard the perdition of my ſoule, which my Redeemer bought with ſo precious a price.

Theſe words were highly pleaſing to the holy Frier, and ſeemed to him as an argument of a good conſcience: Wherefore, after hee had much commended this forwardneſſe in him, he began to demand of him if he had neuer offended with any Woman? Whereunto maſter Chappelet (breathing foorth a great ſigh) anſwered.

Holy Father, I am halfe aſhamed to tell you the truth in this caſe, as fearing leaſt I ſhould ſinne in vaine-glory. Whereto the Confeſſor replyed: Speake boldly Sonne, and feare not; for in telling the truth, be it in confeſſion or otherwiſe, a man can neuer ſinne. Then ſayde Maiſter Chappelet, Father, ſeeing you giue me ſo good an aſſurance, I wil reſolue you faithfully heerein. I am ſo true a Virgin-man in this matter, euen as when I iſſued forth of my Mothers wombe. O Sonne (quoth the Frier) how happie and bleſſed of God art thou? Well haſt thou liued, and therein haſt not meanly merited: hauing hadde ſo much libertie to doo the contrary if thou wouldſt, wherein very few of vs can ſo anſwer for our ſelues.

Afterward, he demanded of him, how much diſpleaſing to God hee had beene in the ſinne of Gluttony? When (ſighing againe greatly) he anſwered: Too much, and too often, good Father. For, ouer and beſide the Faſts of our Lent ſeaſon, which euerie yeare ought to bee dulie obſerued by deuout people, I brought my ſelfe to ſuch a cuſtomarie vſe, that I could faſt three dayes in euery Weeke, with Bread and Water. But indeede (holy Father) I confeſſe, that I haue drunke water with ſuch a pleaſing appetite and delight (eſpecially in praying, or walking on pilgrimages) euen as greedy drunkards do, in drinking good Wine. And many times I haue deſired ſuch Sallades of ſmall hearbes, as Women gather abroad in the open fields, and feeding onely vpon them, without coueting after any other kinde of ſuſtenance; hath ſeemed much more pleaſing to me, then I thought to agree with the nature of Faſting, eſpecially, when as it ſwerueth from deuotion, or is not done as it ought to bee.

Sonne, Sonne, replied the Confeſſour, theſe ſinnes are naturall, and very light, and therefore I would not haue thee to charge thy conſcience with them, more then is needfull. It happeneth to euery man (how holy ſoeuer he be) that after he hath faſted ouer-long, feeding will be welcome to him, and drinking good drinke after his trauaile. O Sir (ſaid Maiſter Chappelet) neuer tell me this to comfort me, for well you know, and I am not ignorant therein, that ſuch things as are done for the ſeruice of God, ought all to be performed purely, and without any blemiſh of the minde; what otherwiſe is done, ſauoureth of ſinne. The Friar being well contented with his words, ſaid: It is not amiſſe that thou vnderſtandeſt it in this manner, and thy conſcience thus purely cleared, is no little comfort to me. But tell me now concerning Auarice, haſt thou ſinned therein? by deſiring more then was reaſonable, or withholding from others, ſuch things as thou oughtſt not to detaine? whereto Maiſter Chappelet anſwered. Good Father, I would not haue you to imagine, becauſe you ſee me lodged here in the houſe of two vſurers, that therefore I am of any ſuch diſpoſition. No truly Sir, I came hither to no other end, but onely to chaſtiſe and admoniſh them in friendly manner, to cleanſe their mindes from ſuch abhominable profit: And aſſuredly, I ſhould haue preuailed therein, had not this violently ſickneſſe hindered mine intention. But vnderſtand (holy Father) that my parents left me a rich man, and immediatly after my fathers death, the greater part of his goods I gaue away for Gods ſake, and then, to ſuſtaine mine ownelife, and to helpe the poore members of Ieſus Chriſt, I betooke my ſelfe to a meane eſtate of Merchandiſe, deſiring none other then honeſt gaine thereby, and euermore whatſoeuer benefit came to me; I imparted halfe thereof to the poore, conuerting mine owne ſmall portion about my neceſſary affaires, which that other part would ſcarſely ſerue to ſupply: yet alwayes God gaue thereto ſuch a mercifull bleſſing, that my buſineſſe dayly thriued more and more, ariſing ſtill from good to better.

Well haſt thou done therein good Sonne, ſaid the Confeſſour: but how often times haſt thou beene angry? Oh Sir (ſaid Maiſter Chappelet) therein I aſſure yee, I haue often tranſgreſſed. And what man is able to forbeare it, beholding the dayly actions of men to be ſo diſhoneſt? No care of keeping Gods commaundements, nor any feare of his dreadfull iudgements. Many times in a day, I haue rather wiſhed my ſelfe dead then liuing, beholding youth purſuing idle vanities, to ſweare and forſweare themſelues, tipling in Tauernes, and neuer haunting Churches; but rather affecting the worlds follies, then any ſuch duties as they owe to God. Alas Sonne (quoth the Friar) this is a good and holy anger, and I can impoſe no penance on thee for it. But tell me, hath not rage or furie at any time ſo ouer-ruled thee, as to commit murther or manſlaughter, or to ſpeake euill of any man, or to doe any other ſuch kinde of iniurie? Oh Father (anſwered Maiſter Chappelet) you that ſeeme to be a man of God, how dare you vſe any ſuch vile words? If I had had the very leaſt thought, to doe any ſuch act as you ſpeake, doe you thinke that God would haue ſuffered me to liue? Theſe are deedes of darkneſſe, fit for villaines and wicked liuers, of which helliſh crue, when at any time I haue happened to meete with ſome one of them; I haue ſaid, Goe, God conuert thee.

Worthy, and charitable words, replied the Friar; but tell me Sonne, Didſt thou euer beare falſe witneſſe againſt any man, or haſt ſpoken falſly, or taken ought from any one, contrary to the will of the owner? Yes indeede Father, ſaid Maiſter Chappelet, I haue ſpoken ill of another, becauſe I haue ſometime ſeene one of my neighbours, who with no meane ſhame of the world, would doe nothing elſe but beate his wife: and of him once I complained to the poore mans parents, ſaying, that he neuer did it, but when he was ouercome with drinke. Thoſe were no ill words, quoth the Friar; but I remember, you ſaid that you were a Merchant: Did you euer deceiue any, as ſome Merchants vſe to doe? Truly Father, anſwered Maiſter Chappelet, I thinke not any, except one man, who one day brought me money which he owed me, for a certaine piece of cloath I ſolde him, and I put it into a purſe without accounting it: about a moneth afterward, I found that there were foure ſmall pence more then was due to me. And neuer happening to meete with the man againe, after I had kept them the ſpace of a whole yeare, I then gaue them away to foure poore people for Gods ſake.

A ſmall matter, ſaid the Friar, & truly payed back again to the owner, in beſtowing them vpon the poore. Many other queſtions hee demaunded of him, whereto ſtill he anſwered in the ſame manner: but before he proceeded to abſolution, Maiſter Chappelet ſpake thus. I haue yet one ſinne more, which I haue not reuealed to you: when being vrged by the Friar to confeſſe it, he ſaid. I remember, that I ſhould afford one day in the weeke, to cleanſe the houſe of my ſoule, for better entertainement to my Lord and Sauiour, and yet I haue done no ſuch reuerence to the Sunday or Sabaoth, as I ought to haue done. A ſmall fault Sonne, replied the Friar. O no (quoth Maiſter Chappelet) doe not terme it a ſmall fault, becauſe Sunday being a holy day, is highly to be reuerenced: for, as on that day, our bleſſed Lord aroſe from death to life. But (quoth the Confeſſour) haſt thou done nothing elſe on that day? Yes, ſaid he, being forgetfull of my ſelfe, once I did ſpet in Gods Church. The Friar ſmiling, ſaid: Alas Sonne, that is a matter of no moment, for wee that are Religious perſons, doe vſe to ſpet there euery day. The more is your ſhame, anſwered Maiſter Chappelet, for no place ought to be kept more pure and cleane then the ſacred Temple, wherein our dayly ſacrifices are offered vp to God,

In this manner he held on an houre and more, vttering the like tranſgreſſions as theſe; and at laſt began to ſigh very paſſionately, and to ſhed a few teares, as one that was skilfull enough in ſuch diſſembling prankes; whereat the Confeſſour being much mooued, ſaid: Alas Sonne, what ayleſt thou? Oh Father (quoth Chappelet) there remaineth yet one ſinne more vpon my conſcience, whereof I neuer at any time made confeſſion, ſo ſhamefull it appeareth to me to diſcloſe it; and I am partly perſwaded, that God will neuer pardon me for that ſinne. How now Sonne? ſaid the Friar, neuer ſay ſo; for if all the ſinnes that euer were committed by men, or ſhall be committed ſo long as the World endureth, were onely in one man, and he repenting them, and being ſo contrite for them, as I ſee thou art; the grace and mercy of God is ſo great, that vpon penitent confeſſion, he will freely pardon him, and therefore ſpare not to ſpeak it boldly. Alas Father (ſaid Chappelet, ſtill in pretended weeping) this ſinne of mine is ſo great, that I can hardly beleeue (if your earneſt prayers doe not aſſiſt me) that euer I ſhall obtaine remiſſion for it. Speake it Sonne, ſaid the Friar, and feare not, I promiſe that I will pray to God for thee.

Maſter Chappelet ſtill wept and ſighed, and continued ſilent, notwithſtanding all the Confeſſors comfortable perſwaſions; but after hee had helde him a long while in ſuſpence, breathing forth a ſighe, euen as if his very heart would haue broken, he ſaide; Holy Father, ſeeing you promiſe to pray to God for me, I will reueale it to you: Know then, that when I was a little boy, I did once curſe my Mother; which he had no ſooner ſpoken, but he wrung his hands, and greeued extraordinarily. Oh good Son, ſaide the Friar, doth that ſeeme ſo great a ſinne to thee? Why, men doe daily blaſpheme our Lord God, and yet neuertheleſſe, vpon their hearty repentance, he is alwayes ready to forgiue them; and wilt not thou beleeue to obtaine remiſſion, for a ſinne ſo ignorantly committed? Weepe no more deare Sonne, but comfort thy ſelfe, and reſt reſolued, that if thou wert one of them, who nayled our bleſſed Sauiour to his Croſſe; yet being ſo truly repentant, as I ſee thou art, he would freely forgiue thee. Say you ſo Father? quoth Chappelet. What? mine owne deare Mother? that bare me in her wombe nine moneths, day and night, and afterwards fed me with her breaſts a thouſand times, can I be pardoned for curſing her? Oh no, it is too haynous a ſinne, and except you pray to God very inſtantly for me, he will not forgiue me.

When the religious man perceiued, that nothing more was to be confeſſed by Maſter Chappelet; he gaue him abſolution, and his owne benediction beſide, reputing him to be a moſt holy man, as verily beleeuing all that he had ſaid. And who would not haue done the like, hearing a man to ſpeake in that manner, and being vpon the very point of death? Afterward, he ſaide vnto him; Maſter Chappelet, by Gods grace you may be ſoone reſtored to health, but if it ſo come to paſſe, that God doe take your bleſſed and well diſpoſed ſoule to his mercy, will it pleaſe you to haue your body buried in our Conuent? Whereto Maſter Chappelet anſwered; I thanke you Father for your good motion, and ſorry ſhould I be, if my friends did bury me any where elſe, becauſe you haue promiſed, to pray to God for me; and beſide, I haue alwayes carried a religious deuotion to your Order. Wherefore, I beſeech you, ſo ſoone as you are come home to your Conuent, preuaile ſo much by your good meanes, that the holy Euchariſt, conſecrated this morning on your high Altar, may be brought vnto me: for although I confeſſe my ſelfe vtterly vnworthy, yet I purpoſe (by your reuerend permiſſion) to receiue it, as alſo your holy and lateſt vnction; to this ende, that hauing liued a greeuous ſinner, I may yet (at the laſt) die a Chriſtian. Theſe words were pleaſing to the good olde man, and he cauſed euery thing to be performed, according as Maſter Chappelet had requeſted.

The two Brethren, who much doubted the diſſembling of Chappelet, being both in a ſmall partition, which ſundered the ſicke mans Chamber from theirs, heard and vnderſtood the paſſage of all, betweene him and the ghoſtly Father, being many times ſcarcely able to refrain from laughter, at the fraudulent courſe of his confeſſion. And often they ſaid within themſelues; what manner of man is this, whom neither age, ſickneſſe, nor terror of death ſo neere approaching, and ſenſible to his owne ſoule, nor that which is much more, God, before whoſe iudgement he knowes not how ſoone he ſhall appeare, or elſe be ſent to a more fearefull place; none of theſe can alter his wicked diſpoſition, but that he will needes die according as he hath liued? Notwithſtanding, ſeeing he had ſo ordered the matter, that he had burial freely allowed him, they cared for no more.

After that Chappelet had receiued the Communion, and the other ceremonies appointed for him; weakneſſe encreaſing on him more and more, the very ſame day of his goodly confeſſion, he died (not long after) towards the euening. Whereupon the two Brethren tooke order, that all needefull things ſhould be in a readineſſe, to haue him buried honourably; ſending to acquaint the Fathers of the Conuent therewith, that they might come to ſay their Nigilles, according to precedent cuſtome, and then on the morrow to fetch the body. The honeſt Friar that had confeſſed him, hearing he was dead, went to the Prior of the Conuent, and by ſound of the houſe Bell, cauſed all the Brethren to aſſemble together, giuing them credibly to vnderſtand, that Maſter Chappelet was a very holy man, as appeared by all the parts of his confeſſion, and made no doubt, but that many miracles would be wrought by his ſanctified body, perſwading them to fetch it thither with all deuoute ſolemnity and reuerence; whereto the Prior, and all the credulous Brethren preſently condiſcended very gladly.

When night was come, they went all to viſit the dead body of Maſter Chappelet, where they vſed an eſpeciall and ſolemne Nigill; and on the morrow, apparrelled in their richeſt Coapes and Veſtiments, with books in their hands, and the Croſſe borne before them, ſinging in the forme of a very deuoute proceſſion, they brought the body pompeouſly into their Church, accompanied with all the people of the Towne, both men and women. The Father Confeſſor, aſcending vp into the Pulpit, preached wonderfull things of him, and the rare holineſſe of his life; his faſtes, his virginity, ſimplicity, innocency, and true ſanctity, recounting alſo (among other eſpeciall obſeruations) what Chappelet had confeſſed, as this moſt great and greeuous ſinne, and how hardly he could be perſwaded, that God would grant him pardon for it. Wherby he tooke occaſion to reproue the people then preſent, ſaying; And you (accurſed of God) for verie leaſt and trifling matter hapning, will not ſpare to blaſpheme God, his bleſſed Mother, and the whole Court of heauenly Paradiſe: Oh, take example by this ſingular man, this Saint-like man, nay, a verie Saint indeede.

Many additions more he made, concerning his faithfulneſſe, truth, & integrity; ſo that, by the vehement aſſeueration of his words (wherto all the people there preſent gaue credible beleefe) he prouoked them vnto ſuch zeale and earneſt deuotion; that the Sermon was no ſooner ended, but (in mighty crowds and throngs) they preſſed about the Biere, kiſſing his hands and feete, and all the garments about him were torne in peeces, as precious Reliques of ſo holy a perſon, and happy they thought themſelues, that could get the ſmalleſt peece or ſhred of anie thing that came neere to his body, and thus they continued all the day, the body lying ſtill open, to be viſited in this manner.

When night was come, they buried him in a goodly Marble tombe, erected in a faire Chappell purpoſely; and for many dayes after following, it was moſt ſtrange to ſee, how the people of the country came thither on heapes, with holy Candles and other offerings, with Images of waxe faſtened to the Tombe, in ſigne of Sacred and ſolemne Vowes, to this new created Saint. And ſo farre was ſpread the fame and renowne of his ſanctity, deuotion, and integrity of life, maintained conſtantly by the Fathers of the Conuent; that if any one fell ſicke in neede, diſtreſſe, or aduerſity, they would make their Vowes to no other Saint but him: naming him (as yet to this day they do) Saint Chappelet, affirming vpon their Oathes, that infinite miracles were there daily performed by him, and eſpecially on ſuch, as came in deuotion to viſit his ſhrine.

In this manner liued and died Maſter Chappelet du Prat, who before he became a Saint, was as you haue heard: and I will not deny it to be impoſſible, but that he may be at reſt among other bleſſed bodies. For, although he liued lewdly and wickedly, yet ſuch might be his contrition in the lateſt extreamity, that (queſtionleſſe) he might finde mercie. But, becauſe ſuch things remaine vnknowne to vs, and ſpeaking by outwarde appearance, vulgar iudgement will cenſure otherwiſe of him, and thinke him to be rather in perdition, then in ſo bleſſed a place as Paradice. But referring that to the Omnipotent appointment, whoſe clemencie hath alwayes beene ſo great to vs, that he regards not our errors, but the integrity of our Faith, making (by meanes of our continuall Mediator) of an open enemy, a conuerted ſonne and ſeruant. And as I began in his name, ſo will I conclude, deſiring that it may euermore be had in due reuerence, and referre we our ſelues thereto in all our neceſſities, with this ſetled aſſurance, that he is alwayes readie to heare vs. And ſo he ceaſed.

It is no little ioy to me, that wee vnderſtand ſo well (by the diſcourſes already paſt) what power conſiſteth in the deliuery of wiſe and ready anſweres; And becauſe it is a great part of ſence and iudgement in men, to affect women of great birth and quality, then themſelues, as alſo an admirable fore-ſight in women, to keepe off from being ſurprized in loue, by Lords going beyond them in degree; a matter offereth it ſelfe to my memory, well deſeruing my ſpeech and your attention, how a Gentlewoman (both in word and deede) ſhould defend her honour in that kind, when importunity laboureth to betray it.

The Marqueſſe of Montferrat was a worthy and valiant Knight, who being Captaine Generall for the Church, the neceſſary ſeruice required his company on the Seas, in a goodly Army of the Chriſtians againſt the Turkes. Vpon a day, in the Court of King Philip, ſirnamed the one eyed King (who likewiſe made preparation in France, for a royall aſſiſtance to that expedition) as many ſpeeches were deliuered, concerning the valour and manhood of this Marqueſſe: it fortuned, that a Knight was then preſent, who knew him very familiarly, and hee gaue an addition to the former commendation, than the whole world contained not a more equall couple in mariage, then the Marqueſſe & his Lady. For, as among all Knights, the Marqueſſe could hardly be paraleld for Armes and honour; euen ſo his wife, in compariſon of all other Ladies, was ſcarcely matchable for beauty and vertue. Which words were ſo waighty in the apprehenſion of King Philip, that ſuddainly (hauing as yet neuer ſeene her) he began to affect her very earneſtly, concluding to embarque himſelfe at Gennes or Genoua, there to ſet forward on the intended voyage, and iourneying thither by land: hee would ſhape ſome honeſt excuſe to ſee the Lady Marqueſſe, whoſe Lord being then from home, opinion perſwaded him ouer-fondly, that he ſhould eaſily obtaine the iſſue of his amorous deſire.

When hee was come within a dayes iourney, where the Lady Marqueſſe then lay; he ſent her word, that ſhe ſhould expect his company on the morrow at dinner. The Lady, being ſingularly wiſe and iudicious; anſwered the Meſſenger, that ſhe reputed the Kings comming to her, as an extraordinary grace and fauour, and that hee ſhould be moſt heartily welcome. Afterward, entring into further conſideration with her ſelfe, what the King might meane by this priuate viſitation, knowing her huſband to be from home, and it to be no meane barre to his apter entertainement: at laſt ſhe diſcreetly conceited (and therein was not deceiued) that babling report of her beauty and perfections, might thus occaſion the Kings cōming thither, his iourny lying elſe a quite contrary way. Notwithſtanding, being a Princely Lady, and ſo loyall a wife as euer liued, ſhee intended to giue him her beſt entertainement: ſummoning the chiefeſt Gentlemen in the Country together, to take due order (by their aduiſe) for giuing the King a gracious welcome. But concerning the dinner, and diet for ſeruice to his table; that remained onely at her owne diſpoſing.

Sending preſently abroade, and buying all the Hennes that the Country afforded; ſhee commaunded her Cookes, that onely of them (without any other prouiſion beſide) they ſhould prepare all the ſeruices that they could deuiſe. On the morrow, the King came according to his promiſe, and was moſt honourable welcommed by the Lady, who ſeemed in his eye (farre beyond the Knights ſpeeches of her) the faireſt creature that euer he had ſeene before; whereat he meruailed not a little, extolling her perfections to be peereleſſe, which much the more enflamed his affections, and (almoſt) made his deſires impatient. The King being withdrawne into ſuch Chambers, as orderly were prepared for him, and as beſeemed ſo great a Prince: the houre of dinner drawing on, the King and the Lady Marqueſſe were ſeated at one Table, and his attendants placed at other tables, anſwerable to their degrees of honour.

Plenty of diſhes being ſerued in, and the rareſt wines that the Countrey yeelded, the King had more minde to the faire Lady Marqueſſe, then any meate that ſtood on the Table. Neuertheleſſe, obſeruing each ſeruice after other, and that all the Viands (though variouſly cooked, and in diuers kindes) were nothing elſe but Hennes onely; he began to wonder, and ſo much the rather, becauſe he knew the Countrey to be of ſuch quality, that it affoorded all plenty both of Fowles and Venyſon: beſide, after the time of his comming was heard, they had reſpite enough, both for hawking and hunting; and therefore it encreaſed his maruell the more, that nothing was prouided for him, but Hennes onely: wherein to be the better reſolued, turning a merry countenance to the Lady, thus he ſpake. Madam, are Hennes onely bred in this Countrey, and no Cockes? The Lady Marqueſſe, very well vnderſtanding his demand, which fitted her with an apt opportunity, to thwart his idle hope, and defend her owne honour; boldly returned the King this anſwere. Not ſo my Lord, but women and wiues, howſoeuer they differ in garments and graces one from another; yet notwithſtanding, they are all heere as they be in other places.

When the King heard this reply, he knew well enough the occaſion of his Henne dinner, as alſo, what vertue lay couched vnder her anſwer; perceiuing apparantly, that wanton words would proue but in vaine, and ſuch a woman was not eaſily to be ſeduced; wherefore, as hee grew enamored on her inconſiderately, ſo he found it beſt fitting for his honour, to quench this heate with wiſedome diſcreetely. And ſo, without any more words, or further hope of ſpeeding in ſo vnkingly a purpoſe, dinner being ended, by a ſudden departing, he ſmoothly ſhadowed the cauſe of his comming, and thanking her for the honour ſhee had done him, commended her to her chaſte diſpoſition, and poſted away with ſpeede to Gennes.

Being on a day in company, (very little differing in quality from himſelfe) he chanced to ſay; that he had beene at ſuch good wine, as God himſelfe did neuer drinke better. Which words (by ſome Sicophant then in preſence) being carried to this curious Inquiſitor, and he well knowing, that the mans faculties were great, and his bagges ſwolne vp full with no meane abundance: Cum gladijs & fuſtibus; With Booke, Bell, and Candle, he rayſed an hoaſt of execrations againſt him, and the Sumner cited him with a ſolemne Proceſſe to appeare before him, vnderſtanding ſufficiently, that this courſe would ſooner fetch money from him, then amend any misbeliefe in the man; for no further reformation did he ſeeke after.

The man comming before him, he demanded, if the accuſation intimated againſt him, was true or no? Whereto the honeſt man anſwered, that he could not denie the ſpeaking of ſuch words, and declared in what manner they were vttered. Preſently the Inquiſitor, moſt deuoutly addicted to Saint Iohn with the golden beard, ſaide; What? Doeſt thou make our Lord a drinker, and a curious quaffer of wines, as if he were a glutton, belly-god, or a Tauerne haunter, as thou, and other drunkards are. Being an hypocrite, as thou art, thou thinkeſt this to be but a light matter, becauſe it may ſeeme ſo in thine owne opinion: but I tell thee plainly, that it deſerueth fire and faggor, if I ſhould proceede in Iuſtice to inflict it on thee: with theſe, and other ſuch like threatning words, as alſo a very ſtearn and angry countenance, he made the man belieue himſelfe to be an Epicure, and that hee denied the eternity of the ſoule; whereby he fell into ſuch a trembling feare, as doubting indeed, leaſt he ſhould be burned, that, to be more mercifully dealt withall, he rounded him in the care, and (by ſecret means) ſo annointed his hands with Saint Iohns golden greaſe, (a very ſingular remedy againſt the diſeaſe peſtilentiall in couetous Prieſts, eſpecially Friars Minors, that dare touch no money) as the caſe became very quickly altered.

This ſoueraigne vnction was of ſuch vertue (though Galen ſpeakes not a word thereof among all his chiefeſt medicines) and ſo farre preuailed; that the terrible threatening words of fire and fagot, became meerely frozen vp, and gracious language blew a more gentle and calmer ayre; the Inquiſitor deliuering him an hallowed Crucifixe, creating him a Souldier of the Croſſe (becauſe he had payred Croſſes good ſtore for it) and euen as if he were to trauell vnder that Standard to the holy Land; ſo did hee appoint him a home-paying pennance, namely, to viſit him thrice euery weeke in his Chamber, and to annoint his hands with the ſelfe-ſame yellow vnguent, and afterward, to heare a Maſſe of the holy Croſſe, viſiting him alſo at dinner time, which being ended, to doe nothing all the reſt of the day, but according as he directed him.

The ſimple man, yet not ſo ſimple, but ſeeing that this weekely greaſing the Inquiſitors hands, would (in time) graſpe away all his gold; grew weary of this annointing, and beganne to conſider with himſelfe, how to ſtay the courſe of this chargeable penance: And comming one morning, (according to his iniunction) to heare Maſſe, in the Goſpell he obſerued theſe wordes; You ſhall receiue an hundred for one, and ſo poſſeſſe eternall life; which ſaying he kept perfectly in his memory, and, as hee was commanded, at dinner time, he came to the Inquiſitor, finding him (among his fellowes) ſeated at the Table. The Inquiſitor preſently demanded of him, whether he had heard Maſſe that morning, or no? Yes Sir, replied the man very readily. Haſt thou heard any thing therein (quoth the Inquiſitor) whereof thou art doubtfull, or deſireſt to be further informed? Surely Sir, anſwered the plaine meaning man, I make no doubt of any thing I haue heard, but doe beleeue all conſtantly; onely one thing troubleth me much, and maketh me very compaſſionate of you, and of all theſe holy Fathers your brethren, perceiuing in what wofull and wretched eſtate you will be, when you ſhall come into another World. What words are theſe, quoth the Inquiſitor? And why art thou moued to ſuch compaſſion of vs? O good Sir, ſaide the man, doe you remember the words in the Goſpell this morning? you ſhall receiue an hundred for one. That is very true, replied the Inquiſitor, but what moueth thee to vrge thoſe words?

I will tell you Sir, anſwered the plaine fellow, ſo it might pleaſe you to be not offended. Since the time of my reſorting hither, I haue daily ſeene many poore people at your doore, and (out of your abundance) when you and your brethren haue fed ſufficiently, euery one hath had a good meſſe of pottage: now Sir, if for euery diſhfull giuen, you are ſure to receiue an hundred againe, you will all be meerely drowned in pottage. Although though the reſt (ſitting at the Table with the Inquiſitor) laughed heartily at this ieſt; yet he found himſelfe toucht in another nature, hauing (hypocritically) receiued for one poore offence, aboue three hundred peeces of gold, and not a mite to be reſtored againe. But fearing to be further diſcloſed, yet threatning him with another Proceſſe in Law, for abuſing the words of the Goſpell; he was content to diſmiſſe him for altogether, without any more golden greaſing in the hand.

It is a commendable thing (faire Ladies) to hit a But that neuer ſtirreth out of his place: but it is a matter much more admirable, to ſee a thing (ſuddenly appearing, and ſildome or neuer frequented before) to be as ſuddenly hit by an ordinary Archer. The vicious and polluted liues of Prieſts, yeeldeth matter of it ſelfe in many things, deſeruing ſpeech and reprehenſion, as a true But of wickedneſſe, and well worthy to be ſharply ſhot at. And therefore, though that honeſt meaning man did wiſely, in touching Maſter Inquiſitor to the quicke, with the hypocriticall charity of Monkes and Friars, in giuing ſuch things to the poore, as were more meete for ſwine, or to be worſe throwne away; yet I hold him more to be commended, who (by occaſion of a former tale, and which I purpoſe to relate) pleaſantly reproued Maſter Can de la Scala, a Magnifico and mightie Lord, for a ſudden and vnaccuſtomed couetouſneſſe appearing in him, figuring by other men, that which he intended to ſay of him, in manner following.

Maſter Can de la Scala, as fame ranne abroade of him in all places, was (beyond the infinite fauours of Fortune towards him) one of the moſt notable and magnificent Lords that euer liued in Italy, ſince the dayes of Fredericke the ſecond Emperour. He determining to procure a very ſolemne aſſembly at Verona, and many people being met there from diuers places, eſpecially Gentlemen of all degrees; ſuddenly (vpon what occaſion I know not) his minde altered, and hee would not goe forward with his intention. Moſt of them hee partly recompenced which were come thither, and they diſmiſſed to depart at their pleaſure, one onely man remained vnreſpected, or in any kinde ſort ſent away, whoſe name was Bergamino, a man very pleaſantly diſpoſed, and ſo wittily ready in ſpeaking and anſwering, as none could eaſily credit it, but ſuch as heard him; and although his recompence ſeemed ouer long delayed, yet hee made no doubt of a beneficiall ending.

By ſome enemies of his, Maſter Can de la Scala was incenſed, that whatſoeuer he gaue or beſtowed on him; was as ill imployed and vtterly loſt, as if it were throwne into the fire, and therefore he neither did or ſpake any thing to him. Some fewe dayes being paſſed ouer, and Bergamino perceiuing, that hee was neither called, nor any account made of, notwithſtanding many manly good parts in him; obſeruing beſide, that hee found a ſhrewd conſumption in his purſe, his Inne, horſes, and ſeruants being chargeable to him: he beg • n to grow extremely melancholly, and yet hee attended in expectation day by day, as thinking it farre vnfitting for him, to depart before he was bidden farewell.

Hauing brought with him thither three goodly rich garments, which had beene giuen him by ſundry Lords, for his more ſightly appearance at this great meeting: the importunate Hoſt being greedy of payment, firſt he deliuered him one of them, and yet not halfe the ſcore being wiped off, the ſecond muſt needes follow, and beſide, except he meant to leaue his lodging, hee muſt liue vpon the third ſo long as it would laſt, till hee ſaw what end his hopes would ſort to. It fortuned, during the time of liuing thus vpon his lateſt refuge, that he met with Maiſter Can one day at dinner, where he preſented himſelfe before him, with a diſcontented countenance: which Maiſter Can well obſeruing, more to diſtaſte him, then take delight in any thing that could come from him, he ſaid. Bergamino, how cheareſt thou? Thou art very melancholly, I pray thee tell vs why? Bergamino ſuddenly, without any premeditation, yet ſeeming as if he had long conſidered thereon, reported this Tale.

Sir, I haue heard of a certaine man, named Primaſſo, one skilfully learned in the Grammar, and (beyond all other) a very witty and ready verſifier: in regard whereof, he was ſo much admired, and farre renowned, that ſuch as neuer ſaw him, but onely heard of him, could eaſily ſay, this is Primaſſo. It came to paſſe, that being once at Paris, in poore eſtate, as commonly hee could light on no better fortune (becauſe vertue is ſlenderly rewarded, by ſuch as haue the greateſt poſſeſſions) he heard much fame of the Abbot of Clugni, a man reputed (next to the Pope) to be the richeſt Prelate of the Church. Of him he heard wonderfull and magnificent matters, that he alwayes kept an open and hoſpitable Court, and neuer made refuſall of any (from whence ſo euer hee came or went) but they did eate and drinke freely there; prouided, that they came when the Abbot was ſet at the Table. Primaſſo hearing this, and being an earneſt deſirer, to ſee magnificent and vertuous men; he reſolued to goe ſee this rare bounty of the Abbot, demaunding how far he dwelt from Paris. Being anſwered, about ſome three leagues thence; Primaſſo made account, that if he went on betimes in the morning, he ſhould eaſily reach thither before the houre for dinner.

Being inſtructed in the way, and not finding any to walke along with him; fearing, if he went without ſome furniſhment, and ſhould ſtay long there for his dinner, he might (perhaps) complaine of hunger: he therefore caried three loaues of bread with him, knowing that he could meete with water euery where, albeit he vſed to drinke but little. Hauing aptly conuayed his bread about him, he went on his iourney, and arriued at the Lord Abbots Court, an indifferent while before dinner time: wherfore, entring into the great Hall, and ſo from place to place, beholding the great multitude of Tables, bountifull preparation in the Kitchin, and what admirable prouiſion there was for dinner; he ſaid to himſelfe, Truly this man is more magnificent, then Fame hath made him, becauſe ſhee ſpeakes too ſparingly of him.

While thus he went about, conſidering on all theſe things, he ſaw the Maiſter of the Abbots houſhold (becauſe then it was the houre of dinner) commaund water to be brought for waſhing hands, and euery one ſitting downe at the Table: it fell to the lot of Primaſſo, to ſit directly againſt the doore, whereat the Abbot muſt enter into the Hall. The cuſtome in this Court was ſuch, that no foode ſhould be ſerued to any, of the Tables, vntill the Lord Abbot was himſelfe firſt ſette: whereupon, euery thing being fitte and readie, the Maiſter of the houſhold, went to tell his Lord, that nothing now wanted but his preſence onely.

The Abbot comming from his Chamber to enter the Hall, looking about him, as hee was wont to doe; the firſt man hee ſaw was Primaſſo, who being but in homely habite, and he hauing not ſeene him before to his remembrance; a preſent bad conceite poſſeſſed his braine, that he neuer ſaw an vnworthier perſon, ſaying within himſelfe: See how I giue my goods away to be deuoured. So returning backe to his Chamber againe, commaunded the doore to be made faſt, demaunding of euery man neere about him, if they knew the baſe Knaue that ſate before his entrance into the Hall, and all his ſeruants anſwered no. Primaſſo being extreamely hungry, with trauailing on foote ſo farre, and neuer vſed to faſt ſo long; expecting ſtill when meate would be ſerued in, and that the Abbot came not at all: drew out one of his loaues which hee brought with him, and very heartily fell to feeding.

My Lord Abbot, after he had ſtayed within an indifferent while, ſent forth one of his men, to ſee if the poore fellow was gone, or no. The ſeruant told him, that he ſtill ſtayed there, and fed vpon dry bread, which it ſeemed he had brought thither with him. Let him feede on his owne (replyed the Abbot) for he ſhall taſte of none of mine this day. Gladly wold the Abbot, that Primaſſo ſhould haue gone thence of himſelfe, and yet held it ſcarſely honeſt in his Lordſhip, to diſmiſſe him by his owne command. Primaſſo hauing eaten one of his Loaues, and yet the Abbot was not come; began to feede vpon the ſecond: the Abbot ſtill ſending to expect his abſence, and anſwered as he was before. At length, the Abbot not comming, and Primaſſo hauing eaten vp his ſecond loafe, hunger compeld him to begin with the third.

When theſe newes were carried to the Abbot, ſodainly he brake forth and ſaide. What new kinde of needy tricke hath my braine begotte this day? Why do I grow diſdainfull againſt any man whatſoeuer? I haue long time allowed my meate to be eaten by all commers that did pleaſe to viſit me, without exception againſt any perſon, Gentleman, Yeoman, poore or rich, Marchant or Minſtrill, honeſt man or knaue, neuer refraining my preſence in the Hall, by baſely contemning one poore man. Beleeue me, couetouſneſſe of one mans meate, doth ill agree with mine eſtate and calling. What though he appeareth a wretched fellow to mee? He may be of greater merit then I can imagine, and deſerue more honor then I am able to giue him.

Hauing thus diſcourſed with himſelfe, he would needs vnderſtande of whence and what he was, and finding him to be Primaſſo, come onely to ſee the magnificence which he had reported of him, knowing alſo (by the generall fame noyſed euery whereof him) that he was reputed to bee a learned, honeſt, and ingenious man: he grew greatly aſhamed of his own folly, and being deſirous to make him an amends, ſtroue many waies how to do him honor, When dinner was ended, the Abbot beſtowed honorable garments on him, ſuch as beſeemed his degree and merit, and putting good ſtore of money in his purſe, as alſo giuing him a good horſſe to ride on, left it at his owne free election, whether hee would ſtay there ſtill with him, or depart at his pleaſure. Wherewith Primaſſo being highly contented, yeelding him the heartieſt thankes he could deuiſe to doe, returned to Paris on horſe-back, albeit he came poorly thether on foot.

Maſter Can de la Scala, who was a man of good vnderſtanding, perceyued immediately (without any further interpretation) what Bergamino meant by this morall, and ſmiling on him, ſaide: Bergamino, thou haſt honeſtly expreſſed thy vertue and neceſſities, and iuſtly reprooued mine auarice, niggardneſſe, and baſe folly. And truſt me Bergamino, I neuer felt ſuch a fit of couetouſneſſe come vpon me, as this which I haue diſhoneſtly declared to thee: and which I will now baniſh from me, with the ſame correction as thou haſt taught mee. So, hauing payed the Hoſt all his charges, redeeming alſo his robes or garments, mounting him on a good Gelding, and putting plenty of Crownes in his purſe, hee referd it to his owne choiſe to depart, or dwell there ſtill with him.

This laſt diſcourſe (faire and vertuous company) induceth mee to tell you, how an honeſt Courtier reprehended in like manner (and nothing vnprofitably) baſe couetouſneſſe in a Merchant of extraordinary wealth. Which Tale, although (in effect) it may ſeeme to reſemble the former; yet perhaps, it will proue no leſſe pleaſing to you, in regard it ſorted to as good an end.

It is no long time ſince, that there liued in Genes or Geneway, a Gentleman named Signior Herminio de Grimaldi, who (as euery one wel knew) was more rich in inheritances, and ready ſummes of currant mony, then any other knowne Citizen in Italy. And as hee ſurpaſſed other men in wealth, ſo did he likewiſe excell them in wretched Auarice, being ſo miſerably greedy and couetous, as no man in the world could be more wicked that way; becauſe, not onely he kept his purſe lockt vp from pleaſuring any, but denied needful things to himſelf, enduring many miſeries & diſtreſſes, onely to auoide expences, contrary to the Genewayes generall cuſtome, who alwayes delighted to be decently cloathed, and to haue their dyet of the beſt. By reaſon of which moſt miſerable baſeneſſe, they tooke from him the ſir-name of Grimaldi, whereof hee was in right deſcended: and called him maſter Herminio the couetous Mizer, a nickname very notably agreeing with his gripple nature.

It came to paſſe, that in this time of his ſpending nothing, but multiplying daily by infinite meanes, that a ciuill honeſt Gentleman (a Courtier, of ready wit, and diſcourſiue in Languages) came to Geneway, being named Guillaume Bourſier. A man very farre differing from diuers Courtiers in theſe dayes, who for ſoothing ſhamefull and graceleſſe maners, in ſuch as allow them maintenance, are called and reputed to bee Gentlemen, yea eſpeciall fauourites: whereas much more worthily, they ſhould be accounted as knaues and villaines, being borne and bred in all filthineſſe, and skilfull in euery kinde of baſeſt behauiour, not fit to come in Princes Courts. For, whereas in paſſed times, they ſpent their dayes and paines in making peace, when Gentlemen were at warre or diſſention, or treating on honeſt marriages, betweene friends and familiars, & (with louing ſpeeches) would recreate diſturbed mindes, deſiring none but commendable exerciſes in Court, and ſharpely reproouing (like fathers) diſordred life, or ill actions in any, albeit with recompence little, or none at all: theſe vpſtarts now adayes, employ all their paines in detractions, ſowing queſtions and quarrels betweene one another, making no ſpare of lyes & falſhoods. Nay which is worſe, they will do this in the preſence of any man, vpbraiding him with iniuries, ſhames, and ſcandals (true or not true) vpon the very leaſt occaſion. And by falſe and deceitfull flatteries and villanies of their own inuenting, they make Gentlemen to become as vile as themſelues. For which deteſtable qualities, they are better beloued and reſpected of theyr miſdemeanor'd Lords, and recompenced in more bountiful manner, then men of vertuous carriage and deſert. Which is an argument ſufficient, that goodneſſe is gone vp to heauen, and hath quite forſaken theſe loathed lower Regions, where men are drowned in the mud of all abhominable vices.

But returning where I left (being led out of my way by a iuſt and religious anger againſt ſuch deformity) this Gentleman, Maſter Guillaume Bourſier, was willingly ſeene, and gladly welcommed by all the beſt men in Geneway. Hauing remayned ſome few dayes in the City, & (among other matters, heard much talke of the miſerable couetouſnes of maſter Herminio, he grew verie deſirous to haue a ſight of him. Maſter Herminio had already vnderſtood, that this Gentleman, Maſter Guillaume Bourſier, was vertuouſly diſpoſed, and (how couetouſly ſoeuer he was inclined) hauing in him ſome ſparkes of noble nature; gaue him very good words, and gracious entertainement, diſcourſing with him on diuers occaſions.

In company of other Genewayes with him, h • brought him to a new erected houſe of his, a building of great coſt and beauty, where, after he had ſhewen him all the variable rarities, he beganne thus. Maſter Guillaume, no doubt but you haue heard and ſeene many things, and you can inſtruct me in ſome quaint conceit or deuiſe, to be fairely figured in painting, at the entrance into the great Hall of my Houſe. Maſter Guillaume hearing him ſpeake ſo ſimply, returned him this anſwere; Sir, I cannot aduiſe you in any thing, ſo rare or vnſeen as you talke of: but how to ſneeze (after a new manner) vpon a full and ouercloyed ſtomacke, to auoide baſe humours that ſtupifie the braine, or other matters of the like quality. But if you would be taught a good one indeede, and had a diſpoſition to ſee it fairely effected; I could inſtruct you in an excellent Embleme, wherwith (as yet) you neuer came acquainted.

Maſter Herminio hearing him ſay ſo, and expecting no ſuch anſwere as he had ſaide; Good Maſter Guillaume, tell me what it is, and on my faith I will haue it fairely painted. Whereto Maſter Guillaume ſuddenly replied: Doe nothing but this Sir; Paint ouer the Portall at your Halles entrance, the liuely picture of Liberality, to bid all your friends better welcome, then hitherto they haue beene. When Maſter Herminio heard theſe words, he became poſſeſſed with ſuch a ſudden ſhame, that his complexion changed from the former paleneſſe, and anſwered thus. Maſter Guillaume, I will haue your aduice ſo truly figured ouer my gate, and ſhee ſhall giue ſo good welcome to all my gueſts, that both you, and all theſe Gentlemen ſhall ſay; I haue both ſeene her, and am become reaſonably acquainted with her. From that time forward, the words of Maſter Guillaume were ſo effectuall with Signior Herminio, that he became the moſt bountifull and beſt houſe-keeper, which liued in his time in Geneway; no man more honouring and friendly welcoming both ſtrangers and Citizens, then he continually vſed to doe.

In the dayes of the firſt King of Cyprus, after the Conqueſt made in the holy Land by Godfrey of Bullen, it fortuned, that a Gentlewoman of Gaſcoignie, trauelling in pilgrimage, to viſit the ſacred Sepulcher in Ieruſalem, returning home againe, arriued at Cyprus, where ſhee was villanouſly abuſed by certaine baſe wretches. Complaining thereof, without any comfort or redreſſe, ſhee intended to make her moane to the King of the Countrey. Whereupon it was tolde her, that therein ſhee ſhould but looſe her labour, becauſe hee was ſo womaniſh, and faint-hearted; that not onely he refuſed to puniſh with iuſtice the offences of others, but alſo ſuffered ſhamefull iniuries done to himſelfe. And therefore, ſuch as were diſpleaſed by his negligence, might eaſily diſcharge their ſpleene againſt him, and doe him what diſhonour they would.

When the Gentlewoman heard this, deſpairing of any conſolation, or reuenge for her wrongs, ſhee reſolued to checke the Kings deniall of iuſtice, and comming before him weeping, ſpake in this manner. Sir, I preſume not into your preſence, as hoping to haue redreſſe by you, for diuers diſhonourable iniuries done vnto me; but, as a full ſatisfaction for them, doe but teach me how you ſuffer ſuch vile abuſes, as daily are offered to your ſelfe. To the ende, that being therein inſtructed by you, I may the more patiently beare mine owne; which (as God knoweth) I would beſtow on you very gladly, becauſe you know ſo well how to endure them.

The King, who (till then) had beene very bad, dull, and ſlothfull, euen as ſleeping out his time of gouernement; beganne to reuenge the wrongs done to this Gentlewoman very ſeuerely, and (thence forward) became a moſt ſharpe Iuſticer, for the leaſt offence offered againſt the honour of his Crowne, or to any of his ſubiects beſide.

Sta • res (when the Ayre is faire and cleere) are the adorning and beauty of Heauen, and flowres (while the Spring time laſteth) doe graciouſly embelliſh the Meadowes; euen ſo ſweete ſpeeches and pleaſing conferences, to paſſe the time with commendable diſcourſes, are the beſt habit of the minde, and an outward beauty to the body: which ornament of words, when they appeare to be ſhort and ſweete, are much more ſeemely in women, then in men; becauſe long and tedious talking (when it may be done in leſſer time) is a greater blemiſh in women, then in men.

Among vs women, this day, I thinke few or none haue therein offended, but as readily haue vnderſtood ſhort and pithy ſpeeches, as they haue beene quicke and quaintly deliuered. But when anſwering ſuteth not with vnderſtanding, it is generally a ſhame in vs, and all ſuch as liue; becauſe our moderne times haue conuerted that vertue, which was within them who liued before vs, into garments of the bodie, and ſhew whoſe habites were noted to bee moſt gaudie, fulleſt of imbroyderies and fantaſtick faſhions: ſhe was reputed to haue moſt matter in her, and therefore to be more honoured and eſteemed. Neuer conſidering, that whoſoeuer loadeth the backe of an Aſſe, or puts vpon him the richeſt brauerie; he becommeth not thereby a iote the wiſer, or merriteth any more honour then an Aſſe ſhould haue. I am aſhamed to ſpeake it, becauſe in detecting other, I may (perhaps) as iuſtly taxe my ſelfe.

Such imbroydered bodies, tricked and trimmed in ſuch boaſting brauery, are they any thing elſe but as Marble Statues, dumbe, dull, and vtterly inſenſible? Or if (perchaunce) they make an anſwere, when ſome queſtion is demaunded of them; it were much better for them to be ſilent. For defence of honeſt deuiſe and conference among men and women, they would haue the world to thinke, that it proceedeth but from ſimplicity and preciſe opinion, couering their owne folly with the name of honeſty: as if there were no other honeſt woman, but ſhee that conferres onely with her Chamber-maide, Laundreſſe, or Kitchin-woman, as if nature had allowed them (in their owne idle conceite) no other kinde of talking.

Moſt true it is, that as there is a reſpect to be vſed in the action of other things; ſo, time and place are neceſſarily to be conſidered, and alſo whom we conuerſe withall; becauſe ſometimes it happeneth, that a man or woman, intending (by a word of ieſt and merriment) to make another body bluſh or be aſhamed: not knowing what ſtrength of wit remaineth in the oppoſite, doe conuert the ſame diſgrace vpon themſelues. Therefore, that we may the more aduiſedly ſtand vpon our owne guard, and to preuent the common prouerbe, That Women (in all things) make choyſe of the woorſt: I deſire that this dayes laſt tale, which is to come from my ſelfe, may make vs all wiſe. To the end, that as in gentleneſſe of minde we conferre with other; ſo by excellency in good manners, we may ſhew our ſelues not inferiour to them.

It is not many yeares ſince (worthy aſſembly) that in Bulloigne there dwelt a learned Phyſitian, a man famous for skill, and farre renowned, whoſe name was Maſter Albert, and being growne aged, to the eſtimate of threeſcore and tenne yeares: hee had yet ſuch a ſprightly diſpoſition, that though naturall heate and vigour had quite ſhaken hands with him, yet amorous flames and deſires had not wholly forſaken him. Hauing ſeene (at a Banquet) a very beautifull woman, being then in the eſtate of widdowhood, named (as ſome ſay) Madame Margaret de Chiſolieri, ſhee appeared ſo pleaſing in his eye; that his ſences became no leſſe diſturbed, then as if he had beene of farre younger temper, and no night could any quietneſſe poſſeſſe his ſoule, except (the day before) he had ſeene the ſweet countenance of this louely widdow. In regard whereof, his dayly paſſage was by her doore, one while on horſebacke, and then againe on foote; as beſt might declare his plaine purpoſe to ſee her.

Both ſhee and other Gentlewomen, perceiuing the occaſion of his paſſing and repaſſing; would priuately ieſt thereat together, to ſee a man of ſuch yeares and diſcretion, to be amorouſly addicted, or ouer-ſwayed by effeminate paſſions. For they were partly perſwaded, that ſuch wanton Ague fits of Loue, were fit for none but youthfull apprehenſions, as beſt agreeing with their chearefull complexion. Maſter Albert continuing his dayly walkes by the widdowes lodging, it chaunced vpon a Feaſtiuall day, that ſhee (accompanied with diuers other women of great account) being ſitting at her doore; eſpied Maſter Albert (farre off) comming thitherward, and a reſolued determination among themſelues was ſet downe, to allow him fauourable entertainement, and to ieſt (in ſome merry manner) at his louing folly, as afterward they did indeede.

No ſooner was he come neere, but they all aroſe, and courteouſly inuited him to enter with them, conducting him into a goodly Garden, where readily was prepared choyſe of delicate wines and banquetting. At length, among other pleaſant and delightfull diſcourſes, they demanded of him: how it was poſſible for him, to be amorouſly affected towards ſo beautifull a woman, both knowing and ſeeing, how earneſtly ſhe was ſollicited by many gracious, gallant, and youthfull ſpirits, ap • ly ſuting with her yeares and deſires? Maſter Albert perceiuing, that they had drawne him in among them, onely to ſcoffe and make a mockery of him; ſet a merry countenance on the matter, and honeſtly thus anſwered.

Beleeue mee Gentlewoman (ſpeaking to the widdowe her ſelfe) it ſhould not appeare ſtrange to any of wiſedome and diſcretion, that I am amorouſly enclined, and eſpecially to you, becauſe you are well worthy of it. And although thoſe powers, which naturally appertaine to the exerciſes of Loue, are bereft and gone from aged people; yet good will thereto cannot be taken from them, neither iudgement to know ſuch as deſerue to be affected: for, by how much they exceede youth in knowledge and experience, by ſo much the more hath nature made them meet for reſpect and reuerence. The hope which incited me (being aged) to loue you, that are affected of ſo many youthfull Gallants, grew thus. I haue often chaunced into diuers places, where I haue ſeene Ladies and Gentlewomen, being diſpoſed to a Collation or rere-banquet after dinner, to feede on Lupines, and young Onions or Leekes, and although it may be ſo, that there is little or no goodneſſe at all in them; yet the heads of them are leaſt hurtfull, and moſt pleaſing in the mouth. And you Gentlewomen generally (guided by vnreaſonable appetite) will hold the heads of them in your hands, and feede vpon the blades or ſtalkes: which not onely are not good for any thing, but alſo are of very bad ſauour. And what know I (Lady) whether among the choiſe of friends, it may fit your fancy to doe the like? For, if you did ſo, it were no fault of mine to be choſen of you, but thereby were all the reſt of your ſuters the ſooner anſwered.

The widdowed Gentlewoman, and all the reſt in her company, being baſhfully aſhamed of her owne and their folly, preſently ſaid. Maſter Albert, you haue both well and worthily chaſtiſed our ouer-bold preſumption, and beleeue mee Sir, I repute your loue and kindneſſe of no meane merrit, comming from a man ſo wiſe and vertuous: And therefore (mine honour reſerued) commaund my vttermoſt, as alwayes ready to do you any honeſt ſeruice. Maſter Albert, ariſing from his ſeat, thanking the faire widdow for her gentle offer; tooke leaue of her and all the company, and ſhe bluſhing, as all the reſt were therein in not much behinde her, thinking to checke him, became chidden her ſelfe, whereby (if wee be wiſe) let vs all take warning.

The Sunne was now ſomewhat farre declined, and the heates extremity well worne away, when the Tales of the ſeauen Ladies and three Gentlemen were thus finiſhed, whereupon their Queene pleaſantly ſaid. For this day (faire company) there remaineth nothing more to be done vnder my regiment, but onely to beſtow a new Queene vpon you, who (according to her iudgement) muſt take her turne, and diſpoſe what next is to be done, for continuing our time in honeſt pleaſure. And although the day ſhould endure till darke night; in regard, that when ſome time is taken before, the better preparation may be made for occaſions to follow, to the end alſo, that whatſoeuer the new Queene ſhall pleaſe to appoint, may be the better fitted for the morrow: I am of opinion, that at the ſame houre as we now ceaſe, the following dayes ſhall ſeuerally begin. And therefore, in reuerence to him that giueth life to all things, and in hope of comfort by our ſecond day; Madame Philomena, a moſt wiſe young Lady, ſhall gouerne as Queene this our Kingdome.

So ſoone as ſhe had thus ſpoken, ariſing from her ſeate of dignity, and taking the Lawrell Crowne from off her owne head; ſhe reuerently placed it vpon Madame Philomenaes, ſhe firſt of all humbly ſaluting her, and then all the reſt, openly confeſſing her to be their Queene, made gracious offer to obey whatſoeuer ſhe commaunded. Philomena, her cheekes deliuering a ſcarlet tincture, to ſee her ſelfe thus honoured as their Queene, and well remembring the words, ſo lately vttered by Madame Pampinea; that dulneſſe or neglect might not be noted in her, tooke cheerefull courage to her, and firſt of all, ſhe confirmed the officers, which Pampinea had appointed the day before, then ſhee ordained for the morrowes prouiſion, as alſo for the ſupper ſo neere approaching, before they departed away from thence, and then thus began.

Louely Companions, although that Madam Pampinea, more in her owne courteſie, then any matter of merit remaining in mee, hath made me your Queene: I am not determined, to alter the forme of our intended life, nor to be guided by mine owne iudgement, but to aſſociate the ſame with your aſſiſtance. And becauſe you may know what I intend to do, and ſo (conſequently) adde or diminiſh at your pleaſure; in verie few words, you ſhall plainly vnderſtand my meaning. If you haue well conſidered on the courſe, which this day hath bene kept by Madam Pampinea, me thinkes it hath bene very pleaſing and commendable; in which regard, vntill by ouer-tedious continuation, or other occaſions of irkeſome offence, it ſhall ſeeme iniurious, I am of the minde, not to alter it. Holding on the order then as we haue begun to do, we will depart from hence to recreate our ſelues awhile, and when the Sun groweth towards ſetting, we will ſup in the freſh and open ayre: afterward, with Canzonets and other paſtimes, we will out-weare the houres till bed time. To morrow morning, in the freſh and gentle breath thereof, we will riſe & walke to ſuch places, as euery one ſhall finde fitteſt for them, euen as already this day we haue done; vntill due time ſhall ſummon vs hither againe, to continue our diſcourſiue Tales, wherein (me thinkes) conſiſteth both pleaſure and profit, eſpecially by diſcreete obſeruation.

Very true it is, that ſome things which Madam Pampinea coulde not accompliſh, by reaſon of her ſo ſmall time of authority, I will beginne to vndergo, to wit, in reſtraining ſome matters whereon we are to ſpeake, that better premeditation may paſſe vpon them. For, when reſpite and a little leyſure goeth before them, each diſcourſe will ſauour of the more formality; and if it might ſo pleaſe you, thus would I direct the order. As ſince the beginning of the world, all men haue bene guided (by Fortune) thorow diuers accidents and occaſions: ſo beyond all hope & expectation, the iſſue and ſucceſſe hath bin good and ſuccesfull, and accordingly ſhould euery one of our arguments be choſen.

The Ladies, and the yong Gentlemen likewiſe, commended her aduice, and promiſed to imitate it; onely Dioneus excepted, who when euery one was ſilent, ſpake thus. Madam, I ſay as all the reſt haue done, that the order by you appointed, is moſt pleaſing and worthy to bee allowed. But I intreate one ſpeciall fauour for my ſelfe, and to haue it confirmed to me, ſo long as our company continueth; namely, that I may not be conſtrained to this Law of direction, but to tell my Tale at liberty, after mine owne minde, and according to the freedome firſt inſtituted. And becauſe no one ſhall imagine, that I vrge this grace of you, as being vnfurniſhed of diſcourſes in this kinde, I am well contented to be the laſt in euery dayes exerciſe.

The Queene, knowing him to be a man full of mirth and matter, began to conſider very aduiſedly, that he would not haue mooued this requeſt, but onely to the end, that if the company grew wearied by any of the Tales re-counted, hee would ſhut vppe the dayes diſport with ſome mirthfull accident. Wherefore willingly, and with conſent of al the reſt he had his ſuite granted. So, ariſing all, they walked to a Chriſtall riuer, deſcending downe a little hill into a vally, graciouſly ſhaded with goodly Trees; where waſhing both their hands and feete, much pretty pleaſure paſſed among them; till ſupper time drawing nere, made them returne home to the Palace. When ſupper was ended, and bookes and inſtruments being laide before them, the Queene commanded a dance, & that Madam Aemilia, aſſiſted by Madam Lauretta and Dioneus, ſhold ſing a ſweet ditty. At which command, Lauretta vndertooke the dance, and led it, Aemilia ſinging this ſong enſuing.

The Song being ended, the Chorus whereof was aunſwered by them all, it paſſed with generall applauſe: and after a few other daunces, the night being well run on, the Queene gaue ending to this firſt dayes Recreation. So, lights being brought, they departed to their ſeuerall Lodgings, to take their reſt till the next morning.

OVR King (moſt Noble and vertuous Ladies) hath this day giuen vs a ſubiect, very rough and ſtearne to diſcourſe on, and ſo much the rather, if we conſider, that we are come hither to be merry & pleaſant, where ſad Tragicall reports are no way ſuteable, eſpecially, by reuiuing the teares of others, to bedew our owne checkes withall. Nor can any ſuch argument be ſpoken of, without mouing compaſſion both in the reporters, and hearers. But (perhaps) it was his highneſſe pleaſure, to moderate the delights which we haue already had. Or whatſoeuer elſe hath prouoked him thereto, ſeeing it is not lawfull for mee, to alter or contradict his appointment; I will recount an accident very pittifull, or rather moſt vnfortunate, and well worthy to bee graced with our teares.

Tancrede, Prince of Salerne (which City, before the Conſulles of Rome held dominion in that part of Italy, ſtoode free, and thence (perchance) tooke the moderne title of a Principality) was a very humane Lord, and of ingenious nature; if, in his elder yeares, he had not ſoiled his hands in the blood of Louers, eſpecially one of them, being both neere and deere vnto him. So it fortuned, that during the whole life time of this Prince, he had but one onely daughter (albeit it had bene much better, if he had had none at all) whom he ſo choiſely loued and eſteemed, as neuer was any childe more deerely affected of a Father: and ſo farre extended his ouer-curious reſpect of her, as he would ſildome admit her to be foorth of his ſight; neither would he ſuffer her to marry, although ſhe had outſtept (by diuers yeares) the age meete for marriage. Neuertheleſſe, at length, he matched her with the Sonne to the Duke of Capua, who liued no long while with her; but left her in a widdowed eſtate, and then ſhee returned home to her father againe.

This Lady, had all the moſt abſolute perfections, both of fauour and feature, as could be wiſhed in any woman, yong, queintly diſpoſed, and of admirable vnderſtanding, more (perhappes) then was requiſite in ſo weake a bodie. Continuing thus in Court with the King her Father, who loued her beyond all his future hopes; like a Lady of great and glorious magnificence, ſhe liued in all delights & pleaſure. She well perceiuing, that her Father thus exceeding in his affection to her, had no mind at all of re-marrying her, and holding it moſt immodeſt in her, to ſolicite him with any ſuch ſuite: concluded in her mindes priuate conſultations, to make choiſe of ſome one eſpeciall friend or fauorite (if Fortune would proue ſo furtherous to her) whom ſhe might acquaint ſecretly, with her ſober, honeſt, and familiar purpoſes. Her Fathers Court beeing much frequented, with plentifull acceſſe of braue Gentlemen, and others of inferiour quality, as commonly the Courts of Kings & Princes are, whoſe carriage and demeanor ſhe very heedfully obſerued. There was a yong Gentleman among all the reſt, a ſeruant to her Father, and named Guiſcardo, a man not deriued from any great deſcent by bloode, yet much more Noble by vertue and commendable behauiour, then appeared in any of the other, none pleaſed her opinion, like as he did; ſo that by often noting his parts and perfections, her affection being but a glowing ſparke at the firſt, grewe like a Bauin to take flame, yet kept ſo cloſely as poſſibly ſhe could; as Ladies are warie enough in their loue.

The yong Gentleman, though poore, being neither blocke nor dullard, perceiued what he made no outward ſhew of, and vnderſtood himſelfe ſo ſufficiently, that holding it no meane happineſſe to bee affected by her, he thought it very baſe and cowardly in him, if he ſhould not expreſſe the like to her againe. So louing mutually (yet ſecretly) in this maner, and ſhee coueting nothing more, then to haue priuate conference with him, yet not daring to truſt any one with ſo important a matter; at length ſhe deuiſed a new cunning ſtratageme, to compaſſe her longing deſire, and acquaint him with her priuate purpoſe, which proued to bee in this manner. Shee wrote a Letter, concerning what was the next day to be done, for their ſecret meeting together; and conueying it within the ioynt of an hollow Cane, in ieſting maner threw it to Guiſcardo, ſaying; Let your man make vſe of this, inſted of a paire of bellowes, when he meaneth to make fire in your chamber. Guiſcardo taking vp the Cane, and conſidering with himſelfe, that neither was it giuen, or the wordes thus ſpoken, but doubtleſſe on ſome important occaſion: went vnto his lodging with the Cane, where viewing it reſpectiuely, he found it to be cleft, and opening it with his knife, found there the written Letter encloſed.

After he had reade it, and well conſidered on the ſeruice therein concerned; he was the moſt ioyfull man of the world, and began to contriue his apteſt meanes, for meeting with his gracious Miſtreſſe, and according as ſhe had giuen him direction. In a corner of the Kings Palace, it being ſeated on a riſing hill, a caue had long beene made in the body of the ſame hill, which receiued no light into it, but by a ſmall ſpiracle or vent-loope, made our ingeniouſly on the hils ſide. And becauſe it hadde not in long time bene frequented, by the acceſſe of any body, that ventlight was ouer-growne with briars and buſhes, which almoſt engirt it round about. No one could deſcend into this caue or vault, but only by a ſecret paire of ſtaires, anſwering to a lower Chamber of the Palace, and very neere to the Princeſſes lodging, as beeing altogether at her command, by meanes of a ſtrong barred and defenſible doore, whereby to mount or deſcend at her pleaſure. And both the caue it ſelfe, as alſo the degrees conducting downe into it, were now ſo quite worne out of memory (in regard it had not bene viſited by any one in long time before) as no man remembred that there was any ſuch thing.

But Loue, from whoſe bright diſcerning eies, nothing can be ſo cloſely concealed, but at the length it commeth to light: had made this amorous Lady mindefull thereof, and becauſe ſhe would not bee diſcouered in her intention, many dayes together, her ſoule became perplexed; by what meanes that ſtrong doore might beſt be opened, before ſhee could compaſſe to performe it. But after that ſhe had found out the way, and gone downe her ſelfe alone into the caue; obſeruing the loope-light, & had made it commodious for her purpoſe, ſhee gaue knowledge thereof to Guiſcardo, to haue him deuiſe an apt courſe for his deſcent, acquainting him truly with the height, and how farre it was diſtant from the ground within. After he had found the ſouſpirall in the hils ſide, and giuen it a larger entrance for his ſafer paſſage; he prouided a Ladder of cords, with ſteppes ſufficient for his deſcending and aſcending, as alſo a wearing ſute made of leather, to keepe his skinne vnſcratched of the thornes, and to auoide all ſuſpition of his reſorting thither. In this manner went he to the ſaide loope-hole the night following, and hauing faſtened the one end of his corded ladder, to the ſtrong ſtumpe of a tree being cloſely by it; by meanes of the ſaide ladder, he deſcended downe into the caue, and there attended the comming of his Lady.

She, on the morrow morning, pretending to her waiting woman, that ſhe was ſcarſly well, and therefore would not be diſeaſed the moſt part of that day; commanded them to leaue her alone in her Chamber, and not to returne vntill ſhe called for them, locking the doore her ſelfe for better ſecurity. Then opened ſhe the doore of the caue, and going downe the ſtaires, found there her amorous friend Guiſcardo, whom ſhe ſaluting with a chaſte and modeſt kiſſe; cauſed him to aſcend vp the ſtayres with her into her chamber. This long deſired, and now obtained meeting, cauſed the two deerely affecting Louers, in kinde diſcourſe of amorous argument (without inciuill or rude demeanor) to ſpend there the moſt part of that day, to their hearts ioy and mutuall contentment. And hauing concluded on their often meeting there, in this cunning & concealed ſort; Guiſcardo went downe into the caue againe, the Princeſſe making the doore faſt after him, and then went forth among her Women. So in the night ſeaſon, Guiſcardo aſcended vppe againe by his Ladder of cords, and couering the loope-hole with brambles and buſhes, returned (vnſeene of any) to his owne lodging: the caue being afterward guilty of their often meeting there in this manner.

But Fortune, who hath alwayes bin a fatall enemy to louers ſtolne felicities, became enuious of their thus ſecret meeting, and ouerthrew (in an inſtant) all their poore happineſſe, by an accident moſt ſpightfull and malicious. The King had vſed diuers dayes before, after dinner time, to reſort all alone to his daughters Chamber, there conuerſing with her in moſt louing manner. One vnhappy day amongſt the reſt, when the Princeſſe, being named Ghiſmonda, was ſporting in her priuat Garden among her Ladies, the King (at his wonted time) went to his daughters Chamber, being neither heard or ſeene by any. Nor would he haue his daughter called from her pleaſure, but finding the windowes faſt ſhut, and the Curtaines cloſe drawne about the bed; he ſate downe in a chaire behind it, and leaning his head vpon the bed, his body being couered with the curtaine, as if he hid himſelfe purpoſely; hee muſed on ſo many matters, vntill at laſt he ſell faſt aſleepe.

It hath bin obſerued as an ancient Adage, that when diſaſters are ordained to any one, commonly they proue to be ineuitable, as poore Ghiſmonda could witneſſe too well. For, while the King thus ſlept, ſhee hauing (vnluckily) appointed another meeting with Guiſcardo, left hir Gentlewomen in the Garden, and ſtealing ſoftly into her Chamber, hauing made all faſt and ſure, for being deſcried by any perſon: opened the doore to Guiſcardo, who ſtood there ready on the ſtaire-head, awaiting his entrance; and they ſitting downe on the bed ſide (according as they were wont to do) began their vſuall kinde conference againe, with ſighes and louing kiſſes mingled among them. It chanced that the King awaked, & both hearing and ſeeing this familiarity of Guiſcardo with his Daughter, he became extreamly confounded with greefe therat. Once he intended, to cry out for helpe, to haue them both there apprehended; but he helde it a part of greater wiſedome, to ſit ſilent ſtill, and (if hee could) to keepe himſelfe ſo cloſely concealed: to the end, that he might the more ſecretly, and with far leſſe diſgrace to himſelfe, performe what hee had raſhly intended to do.

The poore diſcouered Louers, hauing ended their amorous interparlance, without ſuſpition of the Kings being ſo neer in perſon, or any els, to betray their ouer-confident truſt; Guiſcardo deſcended againe into the Caue, and ſhe leauing the Chamber, returned to her women in the Garden; all which Tancrede too well obſerued, and in a rapture of fury, departed (vnſeene) into his owne lodging. The ſame night, about the houre of mens firſt ſleepe, and according as he had giuen order; Guiſcardo was apprehended, euen as he was comming forth of the loope-hole, & in his homely leather habite. Very cloſely was he brought before the King, whoſe heart was ſwolne ſo great with greefe, as hardly was hee able to ſpeake▪ notwithſtanding, at the laſt he began thus. Guiſcardo, the loue & reſpect I haue vſed towards thee, hath not deſerued the ſhameful wrong which thou haſt requited me withall, and as I haue ſeene with mine owne eyes this day. Whereto Guiſcardo could anſwer nothing elſe, but onely this: Alas my Lord! Loue is able to do much more, then either you, or I. Whereupon, Tancrede commanded, that he ſhould bee ſecretly well guarded, in a neere adioyning Chamber, and on the next day, Ghiſmonda hauing (as yet) heard nothing heereof, the Kings braine being infinitely buſied and troubled, after dinner, and as he often had vſed to do: he went to his daughters chamber, where calling for her, and ſhutting the doores cloſely to them, the teares trickling downe his aged white beard, thus he ſpake to her.

Ghiſmonda, I was once grounded in a ſetled perſwaſion, that I truely knew thy vertue, and honeſt integrity of life; and this beleefe could neuer haue bene altred in mee, by any ſiniſter reports whatſoeuer, had not mine eyes ſeene, and mine eares heard the contrary. Nor did I ſo much as conceiue a thought either of thine affection, or priuate conuerſing with any man, but onely he that was to be thy husband. But now, I my ſelfe being able to auouch thy folly, imagine what an heart-breake this will be to me, ſo long as life remaineth in this poore, weak, and aged body. Yet, if needs thou muſt haue yeelded to this wanton weakeneſſe, I would thou hadſt made choiſe of a man, anſwerable to thy birth & Nobility: whereas on the contrary, among ſo many worthy ſpirits as reſort to my Court, thou likeſt beſt to conuerſe with that ſilly yong man Guiſcardo, one of very meane and baſe deſcent, and by mee (euen for Gods ſake) from his very youngeſt yeares, brought vppe to this inſtant in my Court; wherein thou haſt giuen me much affliction of minde, and ſo ouerthrowne my ſenſes, as I cannot wel imagine how I ſhould deale with thee. For him, whom I haue this night cauſed to be ſurprized, euen as he came forth of your cloſe contriued conueyance, and detaine as my priſoner, I haue reſolued how to proceed with him: but concerning thy ſelfe▪ mine oppreſſions are ſo many and violent, as I know not what to ſay of thee. One way, thou haſt meerly murthered the vnfeigned affection I bare thee, as neuer any father could expreſſe more to his child: and then againe, thou haſt kindled a moſt iuſt indignation in me, by thine immodeſt and wilfull folly, and whereas Nature pleadeth pardon for the one, yet iuſtice ſtandeth vp againſt the other, and vrgeth cruell ſeuerity againſt thee: neuertheleſſe, before I will determine vpon any reſolution, I come purpoſely firſt to heare thee ſpeake, and what thou canſt ſay for thy ſelfe, in a bad caſe, ſo deſperate and dangerous.

Hauing thus ſpoken, he hung downe the head in his boſome, weeping as abundantly, as if it had beene a childe ſeuerely diſciplinde. On the other ſide, Ghiſmonda hearing the ſpeeches of her Father, and perceiuing withall, that not onely her ſecret loue was diſcouered, but alſo Guiſcardo was in cloſe priſon, the matter which moſt of all did torment her; ſhee fell into a very ſtrange kinde of extaſie, ſcorning teares, and entreating tearmes, ſuch as feminine frailety are alwayes apteſt vnto: but rather, with height of courage, controling feare or ſeruile baſeneſſe, and declaring inuincible fortitude in her very lookes, ſhee concluded with her ſelfe, rather then to vrge any humble perſwaſions, ſhee would lay her life downe at the ſtake. For plainely ſhee perceiued, that Guiſcardo already was a dead man in Law, and death was likewiſe as welcome to her, rather then the depriuation of her Loue; and therefore, not like a weeping woman, or as checkt by the offence committed, but careleſſe of any harme happening to her: ſtoutly and couragiouſly, not a teare appearing in her eye, or her ſoule any way to be perturbed, thus ſhee ſpake to her Father.

Tancrede, to denie what I haue done, or to entreate any fauour from you, is now no part of my diſpoſition: for as the one can little auaile me, ſo ſhall not the other any way aduantage me. Moreouer, I couet not, that you ſhould extend any clemency or kindneſſe to me, but by my voluntary confeſſion of the truth; doe intend (firſt of all) to defend mine honour, with reaſons ſound, good, and ſubſtantiall, and then vertuouſly purſue to full effect, the greatneſſe of my minde and conſtant reſolution. True it is, that I haue loued, and ſtill doe, honourable Guiſcardo, purpoſing the like ſo long as I ſhall liue, which will be but a ſmall while: but if it bee poſſible to continue the ſame affection after death, it is for euer vowed to him onely. Nor did mine owne womaniſh weakneſſe ſo much thereto induce me, as the matchleſſe vertues ſhining cleerely in Guiſcardo, and the little reſpect you had of marrying me againe. Why royall Father, you cannot be ignorant, that you being compoſed of fleſh and blood, haue begotten a Daughter of the ſelfe ſame compoſition, and not made of ſtone or yron. Moreouer, you ought to remember (although now you are farre ſtept in yeeres) what the Lawes of youth are, and with what difficulty they are to be contradicted. Conſidering withall, that albeit (during the vigour of your beſt time) you euermore were exerciſed in Armes; yet you ſhould likewiſe vnderſtand, that negligence and idle delights, haue mighty power, not onely in yong people, but alſo in them of greateſt yeeres.

I being then made of fleſh and blood, and ſo deriued from your ſelfe; hauing had alſo ſo little benefit of life, that I am yet in the ſpring, and blooming time of my blood: by either of theſe reaſons, I muſt needs be ſubiect to naturall deſires, wherein ſuch knowledge as I haue once already had, in the eſtate of my marriage, perhaps might moue a further intelligence of the like delights, according to the better ability of ſtrength, which exceeding all capacity of reſiſtance, induced a ſecond motiue to affection, anſwerable to my time and youthful deſires, and ſo (like a yong woman) I became amorous againe; yet did I ſtriue, euen with all my vtmoſt might, and beſt vertuous faculties abiding in me, no way to diſgrace either you or my ſelfe, as (in equall cenſure) yet I haue not done. But Nature is aboue all humane power, and Loue, commanded by Nature, hath preuailed for Loue, ioyning with Fortune: in meere pitty and commiſeration of my extreme wrong. I found them both moſt benigne and gracious, teaching me a way ſecret enough, whereby I might reach the height of my deſires, howſoeuer you became inſtructed, or (perhaps) found it out by accident; ſo it was, and I denie it not.

Nor did I make election of Guiſcardo by chance, or raſhly, as many women doe, but by deliberate counſell in my ſoule, and moſt mature aduiſe; I choſe him aboue all other, and hauing his honeſt harmeleſſe conuerſation, mutually we enioyed our hearts contentment. Now it appeareth, that I hauing not offended but by loue; in imitation of vulgar opinion, rather then truth: you ſeeke to reproue me bitterly, alleaging no other maine argument for your anger, but onely my not chooſing a gentleman, or one more worthy. Wherein it is moſt euident, that you doe not ſo much checke my fault, as the ordination of Fortune; who many times aduanceth men of meaneſt eſteeme, and abaſeth them of greater merit. But leauing this diſcourſe, let vs looke into the orignall of things, wherein wee are firſt to obſerue, that from one maſſe or lumpe of fleſh, both we, and all other receiued our fleſh, and one Creator hath created all things; yea, all creatures, equally in their forces and faculties, and equall likewiſe in their vertue: which vertue was the firſt that made diſtinction of our birth and equality, in regard, that ſuch as had the moſt liberall portion thereof, and performed actions thereto anſwerable, were thereby termed noble; all the reſt remaining vnnoble: now although contrary vſe did afterward hide and conceale this Law, yet was it not therefore baniſhed from Nature or good manners. In which reſpect, whoſoeuer did execute all his actions by vertue, declared himſelfe openly to be noble; and he that tearmed him otherwiſe, it was an errour in the miſcaller, and not in the perſon ſo wrongfully called; as the very ſame priuiledge is yet in full force among vs at this day.

Caſt an heedfull eye then (good Father) vpon all your Gentlemen, and aduiſedly examine their vertues, conditions and manner of behauiour. On the other ſide, obſerue thoſe parts remaining in Guiſcardo: and then, if you will iudge truly, and without affection, you will confeſſe him to be moſt noble, and that all your Gentlemen (in reſpect of him) are but baſe Groomes and villaines. His vertues and excelling perfections, I neuer credited from the report or iudgement of any perſon; but onely by your ſpeeches, and mine owne eyes as true wirneſſes. Who did euer more commend Guiſcardo, extolling all thoſe ſingularities in him, moſt requiſite to be in an honeſt vertuous man; then you your ſelfe haue done? Nor neede you to be ſorry, or aſhamed of your good opinion concerning him; for, if mine eyes haue not deceiued my iudgement, you neuer gaue him the leaſt part of praiſe, but I haue knowne much more in him, then euer your words were able to expreſſe: wherefore, if I haue beene any way deceiued, truly the deceit proceeded onely from you. How will you then maintaine, that I haue throwne my liking on a man of baſe condition? In troth (Sir) you cannot. Perhaps you will alleadge, that he is meane and poore; I confeſſe it, and ſurely it is to your ſhame, that you haue not beſtowne place of more preferment, on a man ſo honeſt and well deſeruing, and hauing beene ſo long a time your ſeruant. Neuertheleſſe, pouerty impaireth not any part of noble Nature, but wealth hurries it into horrible confuſions. Many Kings and great Princes haue heretofore beene poore, when diuers of them that haue delued into the Earth, and kept Flockes in the Feld, haue beene aduanced to riches, and exceeded the other in wealth.

Now, as concerning your laſt doubt, which moſt of all afflicteth you, namely, how you ſhall deale with me; boldly rid your braine of any ſuch diſturbance, for if you haue reſolued now in your extremity of yeeres, to doe that which your younger dayes euermore deſpiſed, I meane, to become cruell; vſe your vtmoſt cruelty againſt me, for I will neuer entreate you to the contrary, becauſe I am the ſole occaſion of this offence, if it doe deſerue the name of an offence. And this I dare aſſure you, that if you deale not with me, as you haue done already, or intend to Guiſcardo, mine owne hands ſhall act as much: and therefore giue ouer your teares to women, and if you purpoſe to be cruel, let him and me in death drinke both of one cup, at leaſt, if you imagine that we haue deſerued it.

The King knew well enough the high ſpirit of his Daughter, but yet (neuertheleſſe) he did not beleeue, that her words would proue actions, or ſhee doe as ſhee ſaide. And therefore parting from her, and without intent of vſing any cruelty to her; concluded, by quenching the heate of another, to coole the fiery rage of her diſtemper, commanding two of his followers (who had the cuſtody of Guiſcardo) that without any rumour or noyſe at all, they ſhould ſtrangle him the night enſuing, and taking the heart forth of his body, to bring it to him, which they performed according to their charge. On the next day, the King called for a goodly ſtanding Cup of Gold, wherein he put the heart of Guiſcardo, ſending it by one of his moſt familiar ſeruants to his Daughter, with command alſo to vſe theſe words to her. Thy Father hath ſent thee this preſent, to comfort thee with that thing which moſt of all thou affecteſt, euen as thou haſt comforted him with that which he moſt hated.

Ghiſmonda, nothing altered from her cruell deliberation, after her Father was departed from her, cauſed certaine poyſonous rootes & hearbs to be brought her, which ſhee (by diſtillation) made a water of, to drinke ſuddenly, whenſoeuer any croſſe accident ſhould come from her Father; whereupon, when the meſſenger from her Father had deliuered her the preſent, and vttered the words as he was commanded: ſhee tooke the Cup, and looking into it with a ſetled countenance, by ſight of the heart, and effect of the meſſage, ſhee knew certainly, that it was the heart of Guiſcardo; then looking ſtearnely on the ſeruant, thus ſhe ſpake vnto him. My honeſt friend, it is no more then right and iuſtice, that ſo worthy a heart as this is, ſhould haue any worſer graue then gold, wherein my Father hath dealt moſt wiſely. So, lifting the heart vp to her mouth, and ſweetly kiſſing it, ſhee proceeded thus. In all things, euen till this inſtant, (being the vtmoſt period of my life) I haue euermore found my Fathers loue moſt effectuall to me; but now it appeareth farre greater, then at any time heretofore: and therefore from my mouth, thou muſt deliuer him the lateſt thankes that euer I ſhall giue him, for ſending me ſuch an honourable preſent.

Theſe words being ended, holding the Cup faſt in her hand, and looking ſeriouſly vpon the heart, ſhee began againe in this manner. Thou ſweete entertainer of all my deareſt delights, accurſed be his cruelty, that cauſeth me thus to ſee thee with my corporall eyes, it being ſufficient enough for me, alwayes to behold thee with the ſight of my ſoule. Thou haſt runne thy race, and as Fortune ordained, ſo are thy dayes finiſhed: for as all fleſh hath an ending; ſo haſt thou concluded, albeit too ſoone, and before thy due time. The trauailes and miſeries of this World, haue now no more to meddle with thee, and thy very heauieſt enemy, hath beſtowed ſuch a graue on thee, as thy greatneſſe in vertue worthily deſerueth; now nothing elſe is wanting, wherewith to beautifie thy Funerall, but onely her ſighes & teares, that was ſo deare vnto thee in thy life time. And becauſe thou mighteſt the more freely enioy them, ſee how my mercileſſe Father (on his owne meere motion) hath ſent thee to me; and truly I will beſtow them frankly on thee, though once I had reſolued, to die with drie eyes, and not ſhedding one teare, dreadleſſe of their vtmoſt malice towards me.

And when I haue giuen thee the due oblation of my teares, my ſoule, which ſometime thou haſt kept moſt carefully, ſhall come to make a ſweete coniunction with thine: for in what company elſe can I trauaile more contentedly, and to thoſe vnfrequented ſilent ſhades, but onely in thine? As yet I am ſure it is preſent here, in this Cup ſent me by my Father, as hauing a prouident reſpect to the place, for poſſeſſion of our equall and mutuall pleaſures; becauſe thy ſoule affecting mine ſo truely, cannot walke alone, without his deare companion.

Hauing thus finiſhed her complaint, euen as if her head had been conuerted into a well-ſpring of water, ſo did teares abundantly flow from her faire eyes, kiſſing the heart of Guiſcardo infinite times. All which while, her women ſtanding by her, neither knew what heart it was, nor to what effect her ſpeeches tended: but being moued to compaſſionate teares, they often demanded (albeit in vaine) the occaſion of her ſad complaining, comforting her to their vtmoſt power. When ſhee was not able to weepe any longer, wiping her eyes, and lifting vp her head, without any ſigne of the leaſt diſmay, thus ſhee ſpake to the heart. Deare heart, all my duty is performed to thee, and nothing now remaineth vneffected; but onely breathing my laſt, to let my ghoſt accompany thine.

Then calling for the glaſſe of water, which ſhee had readily prepared the day before, and powring it vpon the heart lying in the Cup, couragiouſly aduancing it to her mouth, ſhee dranke it vp euery drop; which being done, ſhee lay downe vpon her bed, holding her Louers heart faſt in her hand, and laying it ſo neere to her owne as ſhe could. Now although her women knew not what water it was, yet when they had ſeene her to quaffe it off in that manner, they ſent word to the King, who much ſuſpecting what had happened, went in all haſte to his Daughters chamber, entring at the very inſtant, when ſhee was laide vpon her bed; beholding her in ſuch paſſionate pangs, with teares ſtreaming downe his reuerend beard, he vſed many kinde words to comfort her, when boldly thus ſhee ſpake vnto him. Father (quoth ſhe) well may you ſpare theſe teares, becauſe they are vnfitting for you, and not any way deſired by me; who but your ſelfe, hath ſeene any man to mourne for his owne wilfull offence. Neuertheleſſe, if but the leaſt iot of that loue doe yet abide in you, whereof you haue made ſuch liberall profeſſion to me; let me obtaine this my very laſt requeſt, to wit, that ſeeing I might not priuately enioy the benefit of Guiſcardoes loue, and while he liued; let yet (in death) one publike graue containe both our bodies, that death may affoord vs, what you ſo cruelly in life denied vs.

Extremity of griefe and ſorrow, with-held his tongue from returning any anſwer, and ſhee perceiuing her end approaching, held the heart ſtill cloſed to her owne bare breſt, ſaying; Here Fortune, receiue two true hearts lateſt oblation, for, in this manner are we comming to thee. So cloſing her eyes, all ſenſe forſooke her, life leauing her body breathleſſe. Thus ended the hapleſſe loue of Guiſcardo, and Ghiſmonda, for whoſe ſad diſaſter, when the King had mourned ſufficiently, and repented fruitleſly; he cauſed both their bodies to be honourably embalmed, and buried in a moſt royall Monument; not without generall ſorrow of the ſubiects of Salerne.

It hath been continually vſed as a common Prouerbe; that a bad man, taken and reputed to be honeſt and good, may commit many euils, yet neither credited, or ſuſpected: which prouerbe giueth mee very ample matter to ſpeake of, and yet not varying from our intention, concerning the hypocriſie of ſome religious perſons, who hauing their garments long and large, their faces made artificially pale, their language meeke and humble, to get mens goods from them; yet fower, harſh, and ſtearne enough, in checking and controuling other mens errours, as alſo in vrging others to giue, and themſelues to take, without any other hope or meanes of ſaluation. Nor doe they endeauour like other men, to worke out their ſoules health with feare and trembling; but, euen as if they were ſole owners, Lords, and poſſeſſors of Paradice, will appoint to euery dying perſon, places (there) of greater or leſſer excellency, according as they thinke good, or as the legacies left by them are in quantity, whereby they not onely deceiue themſelues, but all ſuch as giue credit to their ſubtile perſwaſions. And were it lawfull for me, to make knowne no more then is meerely neceſſary; I could quickly diſcloſe to ſimple credulous people, what craft lieth concealed vnder their holy habites: and I would wiſh, that their lies and deluding ſhould ſpeed with them, as they did with a Franciſcane Friar, none of the younger Nouices, but one of them of greateſt reputation, and belonging to one of the beſt Monaſteries in Venice. Which I am the rather deſirous to report, to recreate your ſpirits, after your teares for the death of faire Ghiſmonda.

Sometime (Honourable Ladies) there liued in the City of Imola, a man of moſt lewd and wicked life; named, Bertho de la maſſa, whoſe ſhameleſſe deedes were ſo well knowne to all the Citizens, and won ſuch reſpect among them; as all his lies could not compaſſe any beleefe, no, not when he deliuered a matter of ſound truth. Wherefore, perceiuing that his lewdneſſe allowed him no longer dwelling there; like a deſperate aduenturer▪ he tranſported himſelfe thence to Venice, the receptacle of all foule ſinne and abhomination, intending there to exerciſe his wonted bad behauiour, and liue as wickedly as euer he had done before. It came to paſſe, that ſome remorſe of conſcience tooke hold of him, for the former paſſages of his diſſolute life, and he pretended to be ſurprized with very great deuotion, becomming much more Catholike then any other man, taking on him the profeſſion of a Franciſcane Cordelier, and calling himſelfe Fryar Albert of Imola.

In this habite and outward appearance, hee ſeemed to leade an auſtere and ſanctimonious life, highly commending penance & abſtinence, neuer eating fleſh, or drinking wine, but when hee was prouided of both in a cloſe corner. And before any perſon could take notice thereof, hee became (of a theefe) Ruffian, forſwearer and murtherer, as formerly he had beene a great Preacher; yet not abandoning the forenamed vices, when ſecretly he could put any of them in execution. Moreouer, being made Prieſt, when he was celebrating Maſſe at the Altar, if he ſaw himſelfe to be obſerued by any; he would moſt mournefully reade the paſſion of our Sauiour, as one whoſe teares coſt him little, whenſoeuer hee pleaſed to vſe them: ſo that, in a ſhort while, by his preaching and teares, he fed the humours of the Venetians ſo pleaſingly; that they made him executour (well neere) of all their Teſtaments, yea, many choſe him as depoſitary or Guardion of their monies; becauſe he was both Confeſſour and Councellor, almoſt to all the men and women.

By this well ſeeming out-ſide of ſanctity, the Wolfe became a Shepheard, and his renown for holineſſe was ſo famous in thoſe parts, as Saint Frances himſelfe had hardly any more. It fortuned, that a young Gentlewoman, being ſomewhat fooliſh, wanton and proud minded, named Madam Liſetta de Caquirino, wife to a wealthy Merchant, who went with certaine Gallies into Flanders, and there lay as Lieger long time, in company of other Gentlewomen, went to be confeſſed by this ghoſtly Father; kneeling at his feete, although her heart was high enough, like a proud minded woman, (for Venetians are preſumptuous, vaine-glorious, and witted much like to their skittiſh Gondoloes) ſhe made a very ſhort rehearſall of her ſinnes. At length Fryar Albert demanded of her, whether ſhee had any amorous friend or louer? Her patience being exceedingly prouoked, ſtearne anger appeared in her lookes, which cauſed her to returne him this anſwer. How now Sir Domine? what? haue you no eyes in your head? Can you not diſtinguiſh between mine, and theſe other common beauties? I could haue Louers enow, if I were ſo pleaſed; but thoſe perfections remaining in me, are not to be affected by this man, or that. How many beauties haue you beheld, any way anſwerable to mine, and are more fit for Gods, then mortals.

Many other idle ſpeeches ſhee vttered, in proud opinion of her beauty, whereby Friar Albert preſently perceiued, that this Gentlewoman had but a hollow braine, and was fit game for folly to flye at; which made him inſtantly enamoured of her, and that beyond all capacity of reſiſting, which yet he referred to a further, and more commodious time. Neuertheleſſe, to ſhew himſelfe an holy and religious man now, he began to reprehend her, and told her plainely, that ſhe was vain-glorious, and ouercome with infinite follies. Hereupon, ſhe called him a logger headed beaſt, and he knew not the difference between an ordinary complexion, and beauty of the higheſt merit. In which reſpect, Friar Albert, being loth to offend her any further; after confeſſion was fully ended, let her paſſe away among the other Gentlewomen, ſhe giuing him diuers diſdainfull lookes.

Within ſome few dayes after, taking one of his truſty brethren in his company, he went to the Houſe of Madam Liſetta, where requiring to haue ſome conference alone with her ſelfe; ſhee tooke him into a priuate Parlor, and being there, not to be ſeene by any body, he fell on his knees before her, ſpeaking in this manner. Madam, for charities ſake, and in regard of your own moſt gracious nature, I beſeech you to pardon thoſe harſh ſpeeches, which I vſed to you the other day, when you were with me at confeſſion: becauſe, the very night enſuing thereon, I was chaſtiſed in ſuch ſuch cruell manner, as I was neuer able to ſtirre forth of my bed, vntill this very inſtant morning; whereto the weake witted Gentlewoman thus replyed. And who I pray you (quoth ſhe) did chaſtiſe you ſo ſeuerely? I will tell you Madam, ſaid Friar Albert, but it is a matter of admirable ſecrecie.

Being alone by my ſelfe the ſame night in my Dorter, and in very ſerious deuotion, according to my vſuall manner: ſuddenly I ſaw a bright ſplendour about me, and I could no ſooner ariſe to diſcerne what it might be, and whence it came, but I eſpied a very goodly young Lad ſtanding by me, holding a golden Bow in his hand, and a rich Quiuer of Arrowes hanging at his back. Catching faſt hold on my Hood, againſt the ground he threw me rudely, trampling on me with his feete, and beating me with ſo many cruell blowes, that I thought my body to be broken in peeces. Then I deſired to know, why he was ſo rigorous to me in his correction? Becauſe (quoth he) thou didſt ſo ſaucily preſume this day, to reproue the celeſtiall beauty of Madam Liſetta, who (next to my Mother Venus) I loue moſt dearely. Whereupon I perceiued, he was the great commanding God Cupid, and therefore I craued moſt humbly pardon of him. I will pardon thee (quoth he) but vpon this condition, that thou goe to her ſo ſoone as conueniently thou canſt, and (by lowly humility) preuaile to obtaine her free pardon: which if ſhe will not vouchſafe to grant thee, then ſhall I in ſtearne anger returne againe, and lay ſo many torturing afflictions on thee, that all thy whole life time ſhall be moſt hateful to thee. And what the diſpleaſed God ſaide elſe beſide, I dare not diſcloſe, except you pleaſe firſt to pardon me.

Miſtreſſe ſhallow braine, being ſwolne big with this wind, like an empty bladder; conceiued no ſmall pride in hearing theſe words, conſtantly crediting them to be true, and therefore thus anſwered. Did I not tel you Father Albert, that my beauty was celeſtiall? But I ſweare by my beauty, notwithſtanding your idle paſſed arrogancy, I am heartily ſorry for your ſo ſeuere correction; which that it may no more be inflicted on you, I doe freely pardon you; yet with this prouiſo, that you tell me, what the God elſe ſaide vnto you; whereto Fryar Albert thus replyed. Madam, ſeeing you haue ſo graciouſly vouchſafed to pardon me, I will thankfully tell you all: but you muſt be very carefull and reſpectiue, that whatſoeuer I ſhall reueale vnto you, muſt ſo cloſely be concealed, as no liuing creature in the World may know it; for you are the onely happy Lady now liuing, and that happineſſe relieth on your ſilence and ſecrecie: with ſolemne vowes and proteſtations ſhee ſealed vp her many promiſes, and then the Fryar thus proceeded.

Madam, the further charge impoſed on me by God Cupid, was to tell you, that himſelfe is ſo extremely enamoured of your beauty, and you are become ſo gracious in his affection; as, many nights he hath come to ſee you in your Chamber, ſitting on your pillow, while you ſlept ſweetly, and deſiring very often to awake you, but onely fearing to affright you. Wherefore, now he ſends you word by me, that one night he intendeth to come viſite you, and to ſpend ſome time in conuerſing with you. But in regard he is a God, and meerely a ſpirit in forme, whereby neither you or any elſe haue capacity of beholding him, much leſſe to touch or feele him: he ſaith, that (for your ſake) he will come in the ſhape of a man, giuing me charge alſo to know of you, when you ſhall pleaſe to haue him come, and in whoſe ſimilitude you would haue him to come, whereof he will not faile; in which reſpect, you may iuſtly thinke your ſelfe to be the onely happy woman liuing, and farre beyond all other in your good fortune.

Miſtris want-wit preſently anſwered, ſhee was well contented, that God Cupid ſhould loue her, and ſhe would returne the like loue againe to him; proteſting withall, that whereſoeuer ſhee ſhould ſee his maieſticall picture, ſhe would ſet a hallowed burning Taper before it. Moreouer, at all times he ſhould be moſt welcome to her, whenſoeuer hee would vouchſafe to viſite her; for, he ſhould alwayes finde her alone in her priuate Chamber: on this condition, that his olde Loue Pſyches, and all other beauties elſe whatſoeuer, muſt be ſet aſide, and none but her ſelfe only to be his beſt Miſtreſſe, referring his perſonall forme of appearance, to what ſhape himſelfe beſt pleaſed to aſſume, ſo that it might not be frightfull, or offenſiue to her.

Madam (quoth Friar Albert) moſt wiſely haue you anſwered, & leaue the matter to me; for I will take order ſufficiently, and to your contentment. But you may do me a great grace, and without any preiudice to your ſelfe, in granting me one poore requeſt; namely, to vouchſafe the Gods appearance to you, in my bodily ſhape and perſon, and in the perfect forme of a man as now you behold me, ſo may you ſafely giue him entertainment, without any taxation of the world, or ill apprehenſion of the moſt curious inquiſition. Beſide, a greater happineſſe can neuer befall me: for, while he aſſumeth the ſoule out of my body, and walketh on the earth in my humane figure: I ſhall be wandering in the ioyes of Louers Paradiſe, feeling the fruition of their felicities; which are ſuch, as no mortality can be capeable of, no, not ſo much as in imagination.

The wiſe Gentlewoman replied, that ſhe was well contented, in regard of the ſeuere puniſhment inflicted on him by God Cupid, for the reproachfull ſpeeches he had giuen her; to allow him ſo poore a kinde of conſolation, as he had requeſted her to grant him. Whereuppon Fryar Albert ſaide: Be ready then Madam to giue him welcome to morrow in the euening, at the entering into your houſe, for comming in an humane body, he cannot but enter at your doore, whereas, if (in powerfull manner) he made vſe of his wings, he then would flye in at your window, and then you could not be able to ſee him.

Vpon this concluſion, Albert departed, leauing Liſetta in no meane pride of imagination, that God Cupid ſhould bee enamored of her beauty; and therefore ſhe thought each houre a yeare, till ſhe might ſee him in the mortall ſhape of Friar Albert. And now was his braine wonderfully buſied, to viſite her in more then common or humane manner; and therefore he made him a ſute (cloſe to his body) of white Taffata, all poudred ouer with Starres, and ſpangles of Gold, a Bow and Quiuer of Arrowes, with wings alſo faſtened to his backe behinde him, and all cunningly couered with his Friars habit, which muſt be the ſole meanes for his ſafe paſſage.

Hauing obtained licence of his Superiour, and being accompanyed with an holy Brother of the Conuent, yet ignorant of the buſineſſe by him intended; he went to the houſe of a friend of his, which was his vſuall receptacle, whenſoeuer he went about ſuch deeds of darknes. There did he put on his diſſembled habit of God Cupid, with his winges, Bowe, and Quiuer, in formall faſhion; and then (clouded ouer with his Monkes Cowle) leaues his companion to awaite his returning backe, while he viſited fooliſh Liſetta, according to her expectation, readily attending for the Gods arriuall.

Albert being come to the houſe, knocked at the doore, and the Maid admitting him entrance, according as her Miſtreſſe had appointed, ſhee conducted him to her Miſtreſſes Chamber, where laying aſide his Friars habite, and ſhe ſeeing him ſhine with ſuch glorious ſplendour, adding action alſo to his aſſumed diſſimulation, with maieſticke motion of his body, wings, and bow, as if he had bene God Cupid, indeede conuerted into a body much bigger of ſtature, then Painters commonly do deſcribe him, her wiſedome was ſo ouercome with feare and admiration, that ſhe fell on her knees before him, expreſſing all humble reuerence vnto him. And he ſpreading his wings ouer her, as with wiers and ſtrings hee had made them pliant; ſhewed how graciouſly he accepted her humiliation; folding her in his armes, and ſweetly kiſſing her many times together, with repetition of his entire loue and affection towards her. So delicately was he perfumed with odorifferous ſauours, and ſo compleate of perſon in his ſpangled garments, that ſhe could do nothing elſe, but wonder at his rare behauiour, reputing her felicity beyond all Womens in the world, and vtterly impoſſible to bee equalled, ſuch was the pride of her preſuming. For he told her diuers tales and fables, of his awefull power among the other Gods, and ſtolne pleaſures of his vpon the earth; yet gracing her praiſes aboue all his other Loues, and vowes made now, to affect none but her onely, as his often viſitations ſhould more conſtantly aſſure her, that ſhee verily credited all his proteſtations, and thought his kiſſes and embraces, • arre to exceed any mortall compariſon.

After they had ſpent ſo much time in amorous diſcourſing, as might beſt fit with this their firſt meeting, and ſtand cleare from ſuſpition on either ſide: our Albert-Cupid, or Cupid-Albert, which of thē you beſt pleaſe to terme him, cloſing his ſpangled winges together againe behinde his backe, faſtening alſo on his Bow and Quiuer of Arrowes, ouer-clouds all with his religious Monkes Cowle, and then with a parting kiſſe or two, returned to the place where he had left his fellow and companion, perhaps imployed in as deuout an exerciſe, as he had bin in his abſence from him; whence both repayring home to the Monaſtery, all this nightes wandering was allowed as tollerable, by them who made no ſpare of doing the like.

On the morrow following, Madam Liſetta immediately after dinner, being attended by her Chamber-maid, went to ſee Friar Albert, finding him in his wonted forme and faſhion, and telling him what had hapned betweene her and God Cupid, with all the other lies and tales which hee had told her. Truly Madam (anſwered Albert) what your ſucceſſe vvith him hath beene, I am no way able to comprehend; but this I can aſſure you, that ſo ſoone as I had acquainted him with your anſwer, I felt a ſodaine rapture made of my ſoule, and viſibly (to my apprehenſion) ſaw it carried by Elues and Fairies, into the floury fields about Eliſium, vvhere Louers departed out of this life, vvalk among the beds of Lillies and Roſes, ſuch as are not in this world to be ſeene, neither to be imagined by any humane capacity. So ſuper-abounding was the pleaſure of this ioy and ſolace, that, how long I continued there, or by what meanes I vvas tranſported hither againe this morning, it is beyond all ability in mee to expreſſe, or how I aſſumed my body againe after that great God hadde made vſe thereof to your ſeruice. Well Friar Albert (quoth ſhee) you may ſee what an happineſſe hath befalne you, by ſo groſſe an opinion of my perfections, and what a felicity you enioy, and ſtill are like to do, by my pardoning your error, and granting the Gods acceſſe to me in your ſhape: which as I enuy not, ſo I wiſh you heereafter to be wiſer, in taking vpon you to iudge of beautie. Much other idle folly proceeded from hir, which ſtill he ſoothed to her contentment, and (as occaſion ſerued) many meetings they had in the former manner.

It fortuned within a few dayes after, that Madam Liſetta being in company with one of her Goſſips, and their conference (as commonly it falleth out to be) concerning other women of the City; their beautie, behauiour, amorous ſuters and ſeruants, and generall opinion conceiued of their worth and merit; wherein Liſetta was ouer-much conceyted of her ſelfe, not admitting any other to be her equall. Among other ſpeeches, ſauouring of an vnſeaſoned braine: Goſſip (quoth ſhe) if you knew what account is made of my beauty, and who holdes it in no meane eſtimation, you would then freely confeſſe, that I deſerue to bee preferred before any other. As women are ambitious in their owne opinions, ſo commonly are they couetous of one anothers ſecrets, eſpecially in matter of emulation, whereupon the Goſſip thus replyed. Beleeue me Madam, I make no doubt but your ſpeeches may bee true, in regard of your admired beauty, and many other perfections beſide: yet let me tell you, priuiledges, how great and ſingular ſoeuer they be, without they are knowen to others, beſide ſuch as do particularly enioy them; they carrie no more account, then things of ordinary eſtimation. Wheras on the contrary, when any Lady or Gentlewoman hath ſome eminent and peculiar fauour, which few or none other can reach vnto, and it is made famous by generall notion: then do all women elſe admire and honor her, as the glory of their kinde, and a miracle of Nature.

I perceiue Goſſip ſaid Liſetta wherat you ayme, & ſuch is my loue to you, as you ſhould not loſe your longing in this caſe, were I but conſtantly ſecured of your ſecrecy, which as hitherto I haue bene no way able to tax, ſo would I be loth now to be more ſuſpitious of then needs. But yet this matter is of ſuch maine moment, that if you will proteſt as you are truely vertuous, neuer to reueale it to any liuing body, I will diſcloſe to you almoſt a miracle. The vertuous oath being paſt, with many other ſolemne proteſtations beſide, Liſetta then proceeded in this manner.

I know Goſſip, that it is a matter of common & ordinary cuſtome, for Ladies and Gentlewomen to be graced with fauourites, men of fraile & mortall conditions, whoſe natures are as ſubiect to inconſtancy, as their very beſt endeuours dedicated to folly, as I could name no mean number of our Ladies heere in Venice. But when Soueraigne deities ſhal feele the impreſſion of our humane deſires, and behold ſubiects of ſuch preuailing efficacy, as to ſubdue their greateſt power, yea, and make them enamored of mortall creatures: you may well imagine Goſſip, ſuch a beauty is ſuperiour to any other. And ſuch is the happy fortune of your friend Liſetta, of whoſe perfections, great Cupid the awefull commanding God of Loue himſelfe, conceiued ſuch an extraordinary liking: as he hath abandoned his ſeate of ſupreme Maieſty, and appeared to me in the ſhape of a mortall man, with liuely expreſſion of his amorous paſſions, and what extremities of anguiſh he hath endured, onely for my loue. May this be poſſible? replyed the Goſſip. Can the Gods be toucht with the apprehenſion of our fraile paſſions? True it is Goſſip, anſwered Liſetta, and ſo certainly true, that his ſacred kiſſes, ſweet embraces, and moſt pleaſing ſpeeches, with proffer of his continuall deuotion towards me, hath giuen me good cauſe to confirme what I ſay, and to thinke my felicity farre beyond all other womens, being honoured with his often nightly viſitations.

The Goſſip inwardly ſmiling at her idle ſpeeches, which (neuertheles) ſhe auouched with very vehement aſſeuerations: fell inſtantly ſicke of womens naturall diſeaſe, thinking euery minute a tedious month, till ſhe were in company with ſome other Goſſips, to breake the obligation of her vertuous promiſe, and that others (as well as her ſelfe) might laugh at the folly of this ſhallow-witted woman. The next day following, it was her hap to be at a wedding, among a great number of other women, whō quickly ſhe acquainted with this ſo ſtrange a wonder; as they did the like to their husbands: and paſſing ſo from hand to hand, in leſſe ſpace then two daies, all Venice was fully poſſeſſed with it.

Among the reſt, the brethren to this fooliſh woman, heard this admirable newes concerning their Siſter; and they diſcreetly concealing it to themſelues, cloſely concluded, to watch the walks of this pretended god: and if he ſoared not too lofty a flight, they would clip his wings, to come the better acquainted with him. It fortuned, that the Friar hearing his Cupidicall viſitations ouer-publikely diſcouered, purpoſed to check and reproue Liſetta for her indiſcretion. And being habited according to his former manner, his Friarly Cowle couering al his former brauery, he left his companion where he vſed to ſtay, and cloſely walked along vnto the houſe. No ſooner was he entred, but the Brethren being ambuſhed neer to the doore, went in after him, and aſcending the ſtaires, by ſuch time as he had vncaſed himſelfe, and appeared like God Cupid, with his ſpangled wings diſplayed: they ruſhed into the Chamber, and he hauing no other refuge, opened a large Caſement, ſtanding directly ouer the great gulfe or Riuer, and preſently leapt into the water; which being deepe, and hee skilfull in ſwimming, he had no other harme by his fall, albeit the ſodain affright did much perplex him.

Recouering the further ſide of the Riuer, he eſpied a light, & the doore of an houſe open, wherein dwelt a poore man, whom he earneſtly intreated, to ſaue both his life and reputation, telling him many lies and tales by what meanes he was thus diſguiſed, and throwne by night-walking Villaines into the water. The poore man, being moued to compaſſionate his diſtreſſed eſtate, laid him in his owne bed, miniſtring ſuch other comforts to him, as the time and his pouerty did permit; and day drawing on, he went about his buſineſſe, aduiſing him to take his reſt, and it ſhould not be long till he returned. So, locking the doore, and leauing the counterfe • God in bed, away goes the poore man to his daily labor. The Brethren to Liſetta, perceiuing God Cupid to bee fled and gone, and ſhee in melancholly ſadneſſe ſitting by them: they tooke vp the Reliques he had left behind him, I meane the Friars hood and Cowle, which ſhewing to their ſiſter, and ſharply reprouing her vnwomanly behauiour: they lefte her in no meane diſcomfort, returning home to their owne houſes, with their conquered ſpoiles of the forlorne Friar.

During the time of theſe occurrences, broad day ſpeeding on, & the poore man returning homeward by the Rialto, to viſit his gueſt ſo lefte in bed: he beheld diuers crouds of people, and a generall rumor noyſed among them, that God Cupid had beene that night with Madame Liſetta, where being ouer-cloſely purſued by her Brethren, for fear of being ſurprized, he leapt out of her window into the gulfe, and no one could tell what was become of him. Heereupon, the poore man beganne to imagine that the gueſt entertained by him in the night time, muſt needs bee the ſame ſuppoſed God Cupid, as by his wings and other embelliſhments appeared: wherefore being come home, and ſitting downe on the beds ſide by him, after ſome few ſpeeches paſſing between them, he knew him to be Friar Albert, who promiſed to giue him fifty ducates, if hee would not betray him to Liſettaes brethren.

Vpon the acceptation of this offer, the money being ſent for, and paied downe; there wanted nothing now, but ſome apt and conuenient meanes, whereby Albert might ſafely be conueyed into the Monaſterie, which being wholly referred to the poore mans care and truſt, thus hee ſpake. Sir, I ſee no likely-hoode of your cleare eſcaping home, except in this manner as I aduiſe you. We obſerue this day as a merry Feſtiuall, & it is lawfull for any one, to diſguiſe a man in the skin of a Beare, or in the ſhape of a ſauage man, or any other forme of better deuice. Which being ſo done, he is brought vpon S. Marks market place, where being hunted a while with dogs, vpon the huntings concluſion, the Feaſt is ended; and then each man leades his monſter whether him pleaſeth. If you can accept any of theſe ſhapes, before you bee ſeene heere in my poore abiding, then can I ſafely (afterward) bring you where you would bee. Otherwiſe, I ſee no poſsible meanes, how you may eſcape hence vnknown; for it is without all queſtion to the contrary, that the Gentlewomans brethren, knowing your concealment in ſome one place or other, wil ſet ſuch ſpies and watches for you throughout the City, as you muſt needs be taken by them.

Now, although it ſeemed a moſt ſeuere impoſition, for Albert to paſſe in any of theſe diſguiſes: yet his exceeding feare of Liſettaes brethren and friends, made him gladly yeelde, and to vndergo what ſhape the poore man pleaſed, which thus he ordered. Annointing his naked body with Hony, he then couered it ouer with downy ſmall Feathers, and faſtning a chaine about his necke, and a ſtrange vgly vizard on his face; hee gaue him a great ſtaffe in the one hand, and two huge Maſtiue dogs chained together in the other, which he had borrowed in the Butchery. Afterward, he ſent a man to the Rialto, who there proclaimed by the ſound of Trumpet: That all ſuch as deſired to ſee God Cupid, which the laſt night had deſcended downe from the skies, and fell (by ill hap) into the Venetian gulfe, let them repaire to the publike Market place of S. Marke, and there he would appeare in his owne likeneſſe.

This being done, ſoone after he left his houſe, and leading him thus diſguiſed along by his chaine, hee was followed by great crowds of people, euery one queſtioning of whence, and what he was. In which manner, he brought him to the Market place, where an infinite number of people were gathered together, as well of the followers, as of them that before heard the proclamation. There he made choiſe of a pillar, which ſtood in a place ſomewhat highly exalted, wherto he chained his ſauage man, making ſhew, as if he meant to awaite there, till the hunting ſhold begin: in which time, the Flies, Waſpes, and Hornets, did ſo terribly ſting his naked body, being annointed with Hony, that he endured therby vnſpeakable anguiſh. When the poore man ſaw, that there needed no more concourſe of people; pretending, as if he purpoſed to let looſe his Saluage man; he tooke the maske or vizard from Alberts face, and then he ſpake aloud in this manner.

Gentlemen and others, ſeeing the wilde Boare commeth not to our hunting, becauſe I imagine that he cannot eaſily be found: I meane (to the end you may not loſe your labour in comming hither) to ſhew you the great God of Loue called Cupid, whom Poets feigned long ſince to be a little boy, but now growne to manly ſtature. You ſee in what maner he hath left his high dwelling, onely for the comfort of our Venetian beauties: but belike, the night-fogs ouer-flagging his wings, he fell into our gulfe, and comes ow to preſent his ſeruice to you. No ſooner had he taken off his vizard, but euery one knew him to be Friar Albert; and ſodainly aroſe ſuch ſhoutes and out-cries, with moſt bitter words breathed forth againſt him, hurling alſo ſtones, durt and filth in his face, that his beſt acquaintance then could take no knowledge of him, and not any one pittying his abuſing.

So long continued the offended people in their fury, that newes therof was carried to the Conuent, and ſix of his Religious brethren came, who caſting an habite about him, and releaſing him from his chain, they led him to the Monaſtery, not without much molleſtation and trouble of the people; where impriſoning him in their houſe, ſeueritie of ſome inflicted puniſhment, or rather conceite for his open ſhame, ſhortned his dayes, and ſo he dyed. Thus you ſee faire Ladies, when licentious life muſt be clouded with a cloake of ſanctity, and euill actions dayly committed, yet eſcaping vncredited: there will come a time at length, for iuſt diſcouering of all, that the good may ſhine in their true luſter of glory, and the bad ſinke in their owne deſerued ſhame.

WHen the King perceiued, that Madame Pampinea had ended her diſcourſe; he ſat ſadly a prety while, without vttering one word, but afterward ſpake thus. Little goodneſſe appeared in the beginning of this Nouell, becauſe it miniſtred occaſion of mirth; yet the ending proued better, and I could wiſh, that worſe inflictions had falne on the venerious Friar. Then turning towards Madam Lauretta, he ſaid; Lady, do you tell vs a better tale, if poſſible it may be. She ſmiling, thus anſwered the King: Sir, you are ouer-cruelly bent againſt poore Louers, in deſiſiring, that their amourous proceſſions ſhould haue harſh and ſiniſter concludings. Neuertheleſſe, in obedience to your ſeuere command, among three perſons amourouſly perplexed, I will relate an vnhappy ending; whereas all may be ſaide to ſpeede as vnfortunately, being equally alike, in enioying the iſſue of their deſires, and thus I purpoſe for to proceede.

Euery vice (choiſe Ladies) as very well you know, redoundeth to the great diſgrace and preiudice, of him or her by whom it is practiſed, and oftentimes to others. Now, among thoſe common hurtfull enemies, the ſinne or vice which moſt carrieth vs with full carrere, and draweth vs into vnauoidable perils and dangers; in mine opinion, ſeemeth to be that of choller or anger, which is nothing elſe, but a ſudden and inconſiderate mouing, prouoked by ſome receiued iniury, which hauing excluded all reſpect of reaſon, and dimde (with darke vapours) the bright diſcerning ſight of the vnderſtanding, enflameth the minde with moſt violent furie. And albeit this inconuenience happeneth moſt to men, and more to ſome few, then others; yet notwithſtanding, it hath been noted, that women haue felt the ſelfe ſame infirmity, and in more extreme manner, becauſe it much ſooner is kindled in them, and burneth with the brighter flame, in regard they haue the leſſer conſideration, and therefore not to be wondred at. For if we will aduiſedly obſerue, we ſhall plainely perceiue, that fire (euen of his owne nature) taketh hold on ſuch things as are light and tender, much ſooner then it can on hard and weighty ſubſtances; and ſome of vs women (let men take no offence at my words) are farre more ſoft and delicate then they be, and therefore more fraile. In which regard, ſeeing we are naturally enclined hereto, and conſidering alſo, how much our affability and gentleneſſe, doe ſhew themſelues pleaſing and full of content, to thoſe men with whom we are to liue; and likewiſe, how anger and fury are compacted of extraordinary perils: I purpoſe (becauſe we may be the more valiant in our courage, to outſtand the fierce aſſaults of wrath and rage) to ſhew you by mine enſuing Nouel, how the loues of three young Gentlemen, and of as many Gentlewomen, came to fatall and vnfortunate ſucceſſe, by the tempeſtuous anger of one among them, according as I haue formerly related vnto you.

Marſeilles (as you are not now to learne) is in Prouence, ſeated on the Sea, and is alſo a very ancient and moſt noble City, which hath beene (heretofore) inhabited with farre richer and more wealthy Merchants, then at this inſtant time it is. Among whom there was one, named Narnaldo Ciuada, a man but of meane condition, yet cleare in faith and reputation, and in lands, goods, and ready monies, immeaſurably rich. Many children he had by his Wife, among whom were three Daughters, which exceeded his Sonnes in yeeres. Two of them being twinnes, and borne of one body, were counted to be fifteene yeares old; the third was foureteene, and nothing hindered marriage in their Parents owne expectation, but the returne home of Narnaldo, who was then abroade in Spaine with his Merchandiſes. The eldeſt of theſe Siſters was named Ninetta, the ſecond Magdalena, and the third Bertella. A Gentleman (albeit but poore in fortunes) and called Reſtagnone, was ſo extraordinarily enamoured of Ninetta, as no man poſſibly could be more, and ſhee likewiſe as earneſt in affection towards him; yet both carrying their loues proceeding with ſuch ſecreſie, as long time they enioyed their hearts ſweete contentment, yet vndiſcouered by any eye.

It came to paſſe, that two other young Gallants, the one named Folco, and the other Hugnetto, (who had attained to incredible wealth, by the deceaſe of their Father) were alſo as farre in loue, the one with Magdalena, and the other with Bertella. When Reſtagnone had intelligence thereof, by the meanes of his faire friend Ninetta; he purpoſed to releeue his pouerty, by friendly furthering both their loue, and his owne: and growing into familiarity with them, one while he would walke abroade with Folco, and then againe with Hugnetto, but oftner with them both together, to viſite their Miſtreſſes, and continue worthy friendſhip. On a day, when hee ſaw the time ſutable to his intent, and that hee had inuited the two Gentlemen home to his Houſe, hee fell into this like conference with them.

Kind friends (quoth he) the honeſt familiarity which hath paſt betweene vs, may render you ſome certaine aſſurance, of the conſtant loue I beare to you both, being as willing to worke any meanes that may tend to your good, as I deſire to compaſſe mine owne. And becauſe the truth of mine affection cannot conceale it ſelfe to you, I meane to acquaint you with an intention, wherewith my braine hath a long while trauelled, and now may ſoone be deliuered of, if it may paſſe with your liking and approbation. Let me then tell you, that except your ſpeeches ſauour of vntruth, and your actions carry a double vnderſtanding, in common behauiour both by night and day, you appeare to pine and conſume away, in the cordiall loue you beare to two of the Siſters, as I ſuffer the ſame afflictions for the third, with reciprocall requitall of their deareſt affection to vs. Now, to qualifie the heate of our tormenting flames, if you will condeſcend to ſuch a courſe as I ſhall aduiſe you, the remedy will yeeld them equall eaſe to ours, and we may ſafely enioy the benefit of contentment. As wealth aboundeth with you both, ſo doth want moſt extremely tyrannize ouer me: but if one banke might be made of both your rich ſubſtances, I embraced therein as a third partaker, and ſome quarter of the World diſſigned out by vs, where to liue at hearts eaſe vpon your poſſeſſions; I durſt engage my credite, that all the Siſters, (not meanly ſtored with their Fathers treaſure) ſhall beare vs company to what place ſoeuer we pleaſe. There each man freely enioying his owne deareſt loue, we may liue like three brerhren, without any hinderance to our mutuall contentment; it remaineth now in you Gentlemen, to accept this comfortable offer, or to refuſe it.

The two Brothers, whoſe paſſions exceeded their beſt meanes for ſupport, perceiuing ſome hope how to enioy their loues; deſired no long time of deliberation, or greatly diſputed with their thoughts what was beſt to be done: but readily replyed, that let happen any danger whatſoeuer, they would ioyne with him in this determination, aud he ſhould partake with them in their wealthieſt fortunes. After Reſtagnone had heard their anſwer, within ſome few dayes following, he went to conferre with Ninetta, which was no eaſie matter for him to compaſſe. Neuertheleſſe, opportunity proued ſo fauourable to him, that meeting with her at a priuate place appointed, he diſcourſed at large, what had paſſed betweene him and the other two young Gentlemen, maintaining the ſame with many good reaſons, to haue her like and allow of the enterprize. Which although (for a while) he could very hardly doe; yet, in regard ſhee had more deſire then power, without ſuſpition to be daily in his company, ſhe franckly thus anſwered. My hearts choſen friend, I cannot any way miſlike your aduiſe, and will take ſuch order with my Siſters, that they ſhall agree to our reſolution: let it therefore be your charge, that you and the reſt make euery thing ready, to depart from hence ſo ſoone, as with beſt conuenient meanes we may be enabled.

Reſtagnone being returned to Folco and Hugnetto, who thought euery houre a yeere, to heare what would ſucceed vpon the promiſe paſt betweene them; he told them in plaine termes, that their Ladies were as free in conſent as they, and nothing wanted now, but furniſhment for their ſudden departing Hauing concluded, that Candye ſhould be their harbour for entertainment, they made ſale of ſome few inheritances, which lay the readieſt for their purpoſe, as alſo the goods in their Houſes, and then, vnder colour of venting Merchandiſes abroade; they bought a nimble Pinnace, fortified with good ſtrength and preparation, and waited but for a conuenient wind. On the other ſide, Ninetta, who was ſufficiently acquainted with the forwardneſſe of her Siſters deſires and her owne; had ſo ſubſtantially preuailed with them, that a good voyage now was the ſole expectation. Whereupon, the ſame night when they ſhould ſet away, they opened a ſtrong barred Cheſt of their Fathers, whence they tooke great ſtore of gold and coſtly Iewels, wherewith eſcaping ſecretly out of the Houſe; they came to the place where their Louers attended for them, and going all aboard the Pinnace, the windes were ſo furtherous to them; that without touching any where, the night following they arriued at Geneway.

There being out of peril or purſuite, they all knit the knot of holy wedlocke, and then freely enioyed their long wiſhed deſires, from whence ſetting ſayle againe, and being well furniſhed with all things wanting; paſſing on from Port to Port, at the end of eight dayes they landed in Candie, not meeting with any impeachment by the way. Determining there to ſpend their dayes, firſt they prouided themſelues of faire and goodly Lands in the Countrey, and then of beautifull dwelling Houſes in the City, with all due furniſhments belonging to them, and Families well beſeeming ſuch worthy Gentlemen, and all delights elſe for their daily recreations, inuiting their Neighbours, and they them againe in louing manner; ſo that no Louers could wiſh to liue in more ample contentment.

Paſſing on their time in this height of felicity, and not croſſed by any ſiniſter accidents, it came to paſſe (as often wee may obſerue in the like occaſions, that although delights doe moſt eſpecially pleaſe vs, yet they breed ſurfet, when they ſwell too ouer-great in abundance) that Restagnone, who moſt deerely affected his faire Ninetta, and had her now in his free poſſeſſion, without any perill of looſing her: grew now alſo to bee wearie of her, and conſequently, to faile in thoſe familiar performances, which formerly had paſſed betweene them. For, being one day inuited to a Banket, hee ſaw there a beautifull Gentle-woman of that Countrey, whoſe perfections pleaſing him beyond all compariſon: hee labored (by painfull purſuite) to win his purpoſe; and meeting with her in diuers priuate places, grew prodigall in his expences vpon her. This could not be ſo cloſely carried, but beeing ſeene and obſerued by Ninetta, ſhe became poſſeſſed with ſuch extreame ielouſie, that hee could not doe any thing whatſoeuer, but immediately he had knowledge of it: which fire, growing to a flame in her, her patience became extreamely prouoked, vrging rough and rude ſpeeches from her to him, and daily tormenting him beyond power of ſufferance.

As the enioying of any thing in too much plenty, makes it appeare irkeſome and loathing to vs, and the deniall of our deſires, do more and more whet on the appetite: euen ſo did the angry ſpleene of Ninetta proceede on in violence, againſt this newe commenced loue of Reſtagnone. For in ſucceſſion of time, whether hee enioyed the embracements of his new Miſtreſſe, or no: yet Ninetta (by ſiniſter reports, but much more through her owne iealous imaginations) held it for infallible, and to be moſt certaine. Heereupon, ſhe fell into an extreame melancholly, which melancholly begat implacable fu • y, and (conſequently) ſuch contemptible diſdaine: as conuerted her former kindly loue to Restagnone, into moſt cruell and bloudie hatred; yea, and ſo ſtrangely was reaſon or reſpect confounded in her, as no reuenge elſe but ſpeedy death, might ſatisfie the wrongs ſhee imagined to receiue by Restagnone and his Minion.

Vpon enquiry, by what meanes ſhee might beſt compaſſe her bloody intention, ſhe grew acquainted with a Graecian woman, and wonderfully expert in the compounding of poyſons, whom ſhee ſo perſwaded, by gifts and bounteous promiſes, that at the length ſhee preuailed with her. A deadly water was diſtilled by her, which (without any other counſell to the contrary) on a day when Restagnone had his blood ſome-what ouer-heated, and little dreamed on any ſuch Treaſon conſpired againſt him by his Wife, ſhe cauſed him to drinke a great draught thereof, vnder pretence, that it was a moſt ſoueraigne and cordiall water: but ſuch was the powerfull operation thereof, that the very next morning, Reſtagnone was found to be dead in his bed. When his death was vnderſtood by Folco, Hugnetto and their Wiues, and not knowing how hee came to bee thus empoyſoned (becauſe their ſiſter ſeemed to bemoane his ſodaine death, with as apparant ſhewes of mourning as they could poſſibly expreſſe) they buried him very honourably, and ſo all ſuſpition ceaſed.

But as Fortune is infinite in her fagaries, neuer acting diſaſter ſo cloſely, but as cunningly diſcouereth it againe: ſo it came to paſſe, that within a few dayes following, the Graecian woman, that had deliuered the poyſon to Ninetta, for ſuch another deede of damnation, was apprehended euen in the action. And being put vpon the tortures, among many other horrid villanies by her committed, ſhe confeſſed the empoyſoning of Reſtagnone, and euery particle thereto appertaining. Wherupon, the Duke of Candie, without any noyſe or publication, ſetting a ſtrong guard (in the night time) about the houſe of Folco, where Ninetta then was lodged; there ſodainly they ſeized on her, & vpon examination, in maintainance of her deſperate reuenge; voluntarily confeſſed the fact, and what elſe concerned the occaſion of his death, by the wrongs which hee had offered her.

Folco and Hugnetto vnderſtanding ſecretly, both from the Duke, & other intimate friends, what was the reaſon of Ninettaes apprehenſion, which was not a little diſpleaſing to them, laboured by all their beſt pains and endeauour, to worke ſuch meanes with the Duke, that her life might not periſh by fire, although ſhe had moſt iuſtly deſerued it; but all their attempts prooued to no effect, becauſe the Duke had concluded to execute iuſtice.

Heere you are to obſerue, that Magdalena (beeing a very beautifull Woman, yong, and in the choiſeſt flower of her time:) had often before bin ſolicited by the Duke, to entertaine his loue and kindneſſe, whereto by no meanes ſhe would liſten or giue conſent. And being now moſt earneſtly importuned by her, for the ſafety of her Siſters life, ſhee tooke hold on this her daily ſuite to him, and in priuate told her, that if ſhe was ſo deſirous of Ninettaes life: it lay in her power to obtaine it, by granting him the fruition of her loue. She apparantly perceiuing, that Ninetta was not likely to liue, but by the proſtitution of her chaſte honour, which ſhe preferred before the loſſe of her owne life, or her Siſters; concluded, to let her dye, rather then run into any ſuch diſgrace. But hauing an excellent ingenious wit, quicke, and apprehenſiue in perillous occaſions, ſhee intended now to make a trial of ouer-reaching the laſciuious Duke in his wanton purpoſe, and yet to be aſſured of her Siſters life, without any blemiſh to her reputation.

Soliciting him ſtill as ſhe was wont to doe, this promiſe paſſed from her to him, that when Ninetta was deliuered out of priſon, and in ſafety at home in her houſe: hee ſhould reſort thither in ſome queint diſguiſe, and enioy his long expected deſire; but vntill then ſhe would not yeeld. So violent was the Duke in the proſecution of his purpoſe, that vnder colour of altering the manner of Ninettaes death, not ſuffering her to bee conſumed by fire, but to be drowned, according to a cuſtome obſerued there long time, and at the importunity of her Siſter Magdalena, in the ſtill ſilence of the night, Ninetta was conueyed into a ſacke, and ſent in that manner to the Houſe of Folco, the Duke following ſoone after, to challenge her promiſe.

Magdalena, hauing acquainted her Husband with her vertuous intention, for preſeruing her Siſters life, and diſappointing the Duke in his wicked deſire; was as contrary to her true meaning in this caſe, as Ninetta had formerly beene aduerſe to Reſtagnone, onely being ouer-ruled likewiſe by iealouſie, and perſwaded in his raſh opinion, that the Duke had already diſhonoured Magdalena, otherwiſe, he would not haue deliuered Ninetta out of priſon. Mad fury gaue further fire to this vnmanly perſwaſion, and nothing will now quench this violent ſhame, but the life of poore Magdalena, ſuddenly ſacrificed in the reſcue of her Siſters, ſuch a diuell is anger, when the vnderſtandings bright eye is thereby abuſed. No credit might be giuen to her womanly proteſtations, nor any thing ſeeme to alter his bloody purpoſe; but, hauing ſlaine Magdalena with his Poniard, (notwithſtanding her teares and humble entreaties) hee ran in haſte to Ninettaes Chamber, ſhee not dreaming on any ſuch deſperate accident, and to her he vſed theſe diſſembling ſpeeches.

Siſter (quoth he) my wife hath aduiſed, that I ſhould ſpeedily conuey you hence, as fearing the renewing of the Dukes fury, and your falling againe into the hands of Iuſtice: I haue a Barke readily prepared for you, and your life being ſecured, it is all that ſhe and I doe moſt deſire. Ninetta being fearefull, and no way diſtruſting what he had ſaide; in thankfull allowance of her Siſters care, and curteous tender of his ſo ready ſeruice; departed thence preſently with him, not taking any farewell of her other Siſter and her Husband. To the Sea-ſhore they came, very weakely prouided of monies to defray their charges, and getting aboard the Barke, directed their courſe themſelues knew not whether.

The amourous Duke in his diſguiſe, hauing long daunced attendance at Folcoes doore, and no admittance of his entrance; angerly returned backe to his Court, proteſting ſeuere reuenge on Magdalena, if ſhe gaue him not the better ſatisfaction, to cleare her from thus baſely abuſing him. On the morrow morning, when Magdalena was found murthered in her Chamber, and tidings thereof carried to the Duke; preſent ſearch was made for the bloody offendor, but Folco being fled and gone with Ninetta; ſome there were, who bearing deadly hatred to Hugnetto, incenſed the Duke againſt him and his wife, as ſuppoſing them to be guilty of Magdalenaes death. He being thereto very eaſily perſwaded, in regard of his immoderate loue to the ſlaine Gentlewoman; went himſelfe in perſon (attended on by his Guard) to Hugnettoes Houſe, where both he and his wife were ſeized as priſoners.

Theſe newes were very ſtrange to them, and their impriſonment as vnwelcome; and although they were truly innocent, either in knowledge of the horrid fact, or the departure of Folco with Ninetta: yet being vnable to endure the tortures extremity, they made themſelues culpable by confeſſion, and that they had hand with Folco in the murder of Magdalena. Vpon this their forced confeſſion, and ſentence of death pronounced on them by the Duke himſelfe; before the day appointed for their publike execution, by great ſummes of money, which they had cloſely hid in their Houſe, to ſerue when any vrgent extremitie ſhould happen to them; they corrupted their keepers, and before any intelligence could be had of their flight, they eſcaped by Sea to Rhodes, where they liued afterward in great diſtreſſe and miſery. The iuſt vengeance of Heauen followed after Folco and Ninetta, he for murthering his honeſt wife, and ſhe for poyſoning her offending Husband: for being beaten a long while on the Seas, by tempeſtuous ſtormes and weather, and not admitted landing in any Port or creeke; they were driuen backe on the Coaſt of Candie againe, where being apprehended, and brought to the City before the Duke, they confeſſed their ſeuerall notorious offences, and ended their loathed liues in one fire together.

Thus the idle and looſe loue of Reſtagnone, with the franticke rage and iealouſie of Ninetta and Folco, ouerturned all their long continued happineſſe, and threw a diſaſtrous ending on them all.

MAdam Lauretta hauing concluded her Nouel, and the company complaining on Louers misfortunes, ſome blaming the angry and iealous fury of Ninetta, and euery one deliuering their ſeuerall opinions; the King, as awaking out of a paſſionate perplexity, exalted his lookes, giuing a ſigne to Madam Eliſa, that ſhee ſhould follow next in order, whereto ſhe obeying, began in this manner. I haue heard (Gracious Ladies, quoth ſhe) of many people, who are verily perſwaded, that Loues arrowes, neuer wound any body, but onely by the eyes lookes and gazes, mocking and ſcorning ſuch as maintaine that men may fall in loue by hearing onely. Wherein (beleeue me) they are greatly deceiued, as will appeare by a Nouell which I muſt now relate vnto you, and wherein you ſhall plainely perceiue, that not onely fame or report is as preuailing as ſight; but alſo hath conducted diuers, to a wretched and miſerable ending of their liues.

Gulielmo the ſecond, King of Sicilie, according as the Sicilian Chronicles record, had two children, the one a ſonne, named Don Rogero, and the other a daughter, called Madam Conſtance. The ſaide Rogero died before his Father, leauing a ſonne behind him, named Gerbino, who, with much care and coſt, was brought vp by his Grand-father, prouing to be a very goodly Prince, and wondrouſly eſteemed for his great valour and humanity. His fame could not containe it ſelfe, within the bounds or limits of Sicilie onely, but being publiſhed very prodigally, in many parts of the world beſide, flouriſhed with no meane commendations throughout all Barbarie, which in thoſe dayes was tributary to the King of Sicilie. Among other perſons, deſeruing moſt to be reſpected, the renowned vertues, and affability of this gallant Prince Gerbino, was vnderſtood by the beautious Daughter to the King of Thunis, who by ſuch as had ſeene her, was reputed to be one of the rareſt creatures, the beſt conditioned, and of the trueſt noble ſpirit, that euer Nature framed in her very choyceſt pride of art.

Of famous, vertuous, and worthy men, it was continually her cheefeſt delight to heare, and the admired actions of valiant Gerbino, reported to her by many ſingular diſcourſers, ſuch as could beſt deſcribe him, with language anſwerable to his due deſeruings, won ſuch honourable entertainment in her vnderſtanding ſoule, that they were moſt affectionately pleaſing to her, and in capitulating (ouer and ouer againe) his manifold and heroycall perfections; meere ſpeech made her extreamely amorous of him, nor willingly would ſhe lend an eare to any other diſcourſe, but that which tended to his honour and aduancement.

On the other ſide, the fame of her incomparable beauty, with addition of her other infinite ſingularities beſide; as the World had giuen • are to in numberleſſe places, ſo Sicilie came at length acquainted therewith, in ſuch flowing manner, as was truly anſwerable to her merit. Nor ſeemed this as a bare babling rumour, in the Princely hearing of royall Gerbino; but was embraced with ſuch a reall apprehenſion, and the entire probation of a true vnderſtanding: that he was no leſſe enflamed with noble affection towards her, then ſhe expreſſed the like in vertuous opinion of him. Wherefore, awaiting ſuch conuenient opportunity, when he might entreate licenſe of his Grandfather, for his owne going to Thunis, vnder colour of ſome honourable occaſion, for the earneſt deſire hee had to ſee her: he gaue charge to ſome to his eſpeciall friends (whoſe affaires required their preſence in thoſe parts) to let the Princeſſe vnderſtand, in ſuch ſecret manner as beſt they could deuiſe, what noble affection he bare vnto her, deuoting himſelfe onely to her ſeruice.

One of his choſen friends thus put in truſt, being a Ieweller, a man of ſingular diſcretion, and often reſorting to Ladies for ſight of his Iewelles, winning like admittance to the Princeſſe: related at large vnto her, the honourable affection of Gerbino, with full tender of his perſon to her ſeruice, and that ſhe onely was to diſpoſe of him. Both the meſſage and the meſſenger, were moſt graciouſly welcome to her, and flaming in the ſelf-ſame affection towards him; as a teſtimony thereof, one of the very choiſeſt Iewels which ſhe bought of him, ſhee ſent by him to the Prince Gerbino, it being receiued by him with ſuch ioy and contentment, as nothing in the world could be more pleaſing to him. So that afterward, by the truſty carriage of this Ieweller, many Letters and Loue-tokens paſſed betweene them, each being as highly pleaſed with this poore, yet happy kinde of entercourſe, as if they had ſeene & conuerſed with one another.

Matters proceeding on in this manner, and continuing longer then their loue-ſicke paſſions eaſily could permit, yet neither being able to find out any other meanes of helpe; it fortuned, that the King of Thunis promiſed his daughter in marriage to the King of Granada, whereat ſhe grew exceeding ſorrowfull, perceyuing, that not onely ſhe ſhould be ſent further off, by a large diſtance of way from her friend, but alſo bee depriued vtterly, of all hope euer to enioy him. And if ſhe could haue deuiſed any meanes, either by ſecret flight from her Father, or any way els to further her intention, ſhe would haue aduentured it for the Princes ſake. Gerbino in like maner hearing of this purpoſed mariage, liued in a hel of torments, conſulting oftentimes with his ſoule, how he might bee poſſeſſed of her by power, when ſhe ſhould be ſent by Sea to her husband, or priuate ſtealing her away from her Fathers Court before: with theſe and infinite other thoughts, was he inceſſantly afflicted, both day and night.

By ſome vnhappy accident or other, the King of Thunis heard of this their ſecret loue, as alſo of Gerbinoes purpoſed policy to ſurprize her, and how likely he was to effect it, in regard of his manly valour, and ſtore of ſtout friends to aſsiſt him. Hereupon, when the time was come, that hee would conuey his daughter thence to her marriage, and fearing to be preuented by Gerbino: he ſent to the King of Sicily, to let him vnderſtand his determination, crauing ſafe conduct from him, without impeachment of Gerbino, or any one elſe, vntill ſuch time as his intent was accompliſhed. King Gulielmo being aged, and neuer acquainted with the affectionat proceedings of Gerbino, nor any doubtfull reaſon to vrge this ſecuritie from him, in a caſe conuenient to be granted: yeelded the ſooner thereto right willingly, and as a ſignale of his honourable meaning, he ſent him his royall Gloue, with a full confirmation for his ſafe conduct.

No ſooner were theſe Princely aſſurances receiued, but a goodly ſhip was prepared in the Port of Carthagena, well furniſhed with all thinges thereto belonging, for the ſending his daughter to the King of Granada, writing for nothing elſe but beſt fauouring windes. The yong Princeſſe, who vnderſtood and ſaw all this great preparation; ſecretly ſent a ſeruant of hers to Palermo, giuing him eſpeciall charge, on her behalfe, to ſalute the Prince Gerbino, and to tell him withall, that (within few dayes) ſhee muſt be tranſported to Granada. And now opportunity gaue fayre and free meane, to let the world know, whether hee were a man of that magnanimous ſpirit, or no, as generall opinion had formerly conceyued of him, and whether he affected her ſo firmely, as by many cloſe meſſages he had aſſured her. He who had the charge of this embaſſie, effectually performed it, and then returned backe to Thunis.

The Prince Gerbino, hauing heard this meſſage from his diuine Miſtreſſe, and knowing alſo, that the King his Grandfather, had paſt his ſafe conduct to the King of Thunis, for peaceable paſſage thorough his Seas: was at his wits end, in this vrgent neceſſitie, what might beſt bee done. Notwithſtanding, moued by the ſetled conſtancie of his plighted Loue, and the ſpeeches deliuered to him by the meſſenger from the Princeſſe: to ſhew himſelfe a man endued with courage, he departed thence vnto Meſsina, where he made readie two ſpeedie gallies, and fitting them with men of valiant diſpoſition, ſet away to Sardignia, as making full account, that the Ship which carried the Princeſſe, muſt come along that Coaſt. Nor was his expectation therein deceiued: for, within few dayes after, the Ship (not ouer-ſwiftly winded) came ſailing neere to the place where they attended for her arriuall; whereof Gerbino had no ſooner gotten a ſight, but to animate the reſolutes which were in his company, thus he ſpake.

Gentlemen, if you be thoſe men of valour, as heeretofore you haue beene reputed, I am perſwaded, that there are ſome among you, who either formerly haue, or now inſtantly do feele, the all-commanding power of Loue, without which (as I thinke) there is not any mortall man, that can haue any goodneſſe or vertue dwelling in him. Wherefore, if euer you haue bene amorouſly affected, or preſently haue any apprehenſion thereof, you ſhall the more eaſily iudge of what I now aime at. True it is, that I do loue, and loue hath guided me to be comforted, and manfully aſſiſted by you, becauſe in yonder Ship, which you ſee commeth on ſo gently vnder ſaile (euen as if ſhe offered her ſelfe to be our prize) not onely is the Iewell which I moſt eſteeme, but alſo mighty and vnvalewable treaſure, to be wonne without any difficult labour, or hazard of a dangerous fight, you being men of ſuch vndauntable courage. In the honour of which victory, I couet not any part or parcell, but onely a Ladie, for whoſe ſake I haue vndertaken theſe Armes, and freely giue you all the reſt contained in the ſhippe. Let vs ſet on them, Gentlemen, and my deareſt friends; couragiouſly let vs aſſaile the ſhip, you ſee how the wind fauors vs, and (queſtionleſſe) in ſo good an action, Fortune will not faile vs.

Gerbino needed not to haue ſpoken ſo much, in perſwading them to ſeize ſo rich a booty; becauſe the men of Meſsina were naturally addicted to ſpoile and rapine: and before the Prince began his Oration, they had concluded to make the ſhip their purchaſe. Wherefore, giuing a lowde ſhout, according to their Countrey manner, and commaunding their Trumpets to ſound chearefully, they rowed on amain with their Oares, and (in meere deſpight) ſet vpon the ſhip. But before the Gallies could come neere her, they that had the charge and managing of her, perceyuing with what ſpeede they made towards them, and no likely meanes of eſcaping from them, reſoluedly they ſtood vppon their beſt defence, for now it was no time to be ſlothfull.

The Prince being come neere to the Ship, commanded that the Patrones ſhould come to him, except they would aduenture the fight. When the Sarazines were thereof aduertiſed, and vnderſtood alſo what he demanded, they returned anſwer: That their motion and proceeding in this manner, was both againſt Law and plighted faith, which was promiſed by the King of Sicily, for their ſafe paſſage thorow his Sea, by no meanes to be molleſted or aſſailed. In teſtimony whereof, they ſhewed his Gloue, auouching moreouer, that neyther by force (or otherwiſe) they would yeelde, or deliuer him any thing which they had aboorde their Ship.

Gerbino eſpying his gracious Miſtreſſe on the Ships decke, and ſhe appearing to be farre more beautifull, then Fame had made relation of her: being much more enflamed now, then formerly he had bin, replyed thus when they ſhewed the Gloue. Wee haue (quoth he) no Faulcon heere now, to be humbled at the ſight of your Gloue: and therefore, if you wil not deliuer the Lady, prepare your ſelues for fight, for we muſt haue her whether you will or no. Hereupon, they began to let flie (on both ſides) their Darts and arrowes, with ſtones ſent in violent ſort from their ſlings, thus continuing the fight a long while, to very great harme on either ſide. At the length, Gerbino perceyuing, that ſmall benefite would redound to him, if he did not vndertake ſome other kinde of courſe: he tooke a ſmal Pinnace, which purpoſely he brought with him from Sardignia, and ſetting it on a flaming fire, conueyd it (by the Gallies help) cloſe to the ſhip. The Sarazines much amazed thereat, and euidently perceiuing, that eyther they muſt yeeld or dy; brought their Kings daughter vpon the prow of the ſhip, moſt greeuouſly weeping and wringing her hands. Then calling Gerbino, to let him behold their reſolution, there they ſlew hir before his face; and afterward, throwing her body into the Sea, ſaid: Take her, there we giue her to thee, according to our bounden duty, and as thy periury hath iuſtly deſerued.

This ſight was not a little greeuous to the Prince Gerbino, who madded now with this their monſtrous cruelty, and not caring what became of his owne life, hauing loſt her for whom hee onely deſired to liue: not dreading their Darts, Arrowes, ſlinged ſtones, or what violence els they could vſe againſt him; he leapt aboord their ſhip, in deſpight of all that durſt reſiſt him, behauing himſelf there like a hunger-ſtarued Lyon, when he enters among a heard of beaſtes, tearing their carkaſſes in pieces both with his teeth and pawes. Such was the extreme fury of the poor Prince, not ſparing the like of any one, that durſt appeare in his preſence; ſo that what with the bloody ſlaughter, and violence of the fires encreaſing in the Ship; the Mariners got ſuch wealth as poſſibly they could ſaue, and ſuffering the Sea to ſwallow the reſt, Gerbino returned vnto his Gallies againe, nothing proud of this ſo ill-gotten victory.

Afterward, hauing recouered the Princeſſes dead body out of the Sea, and enbalmed it with ſighes and teares: hee returned backe into Sicilie, where he cauſed it to be moſt honourably buried, in a little Iſland, named Vstica, face to face confronting Trapanum. The King of Thunis hearing theſe diſaſtrous Newes, ſent his Ambaſſadors (habited in ſad mourning) to the aged King of Sicily, complaining of his faith broken with him, and how the accident had falne out. Age being ſodainly incited to anger, and the King extreamly offended at this iniury, ſeeing no way whereby to deny him iuſtice, it being vrged ſo inſtantly by the Ambaſſadours: cauſed Gerbino to be apprehended, and hee himſelfe (in regard that none of his Lords and Barons would therein aſſiſt him, but laboured to diuert them by their earneſt importunity) pronounced the ſentence of death on the Prince, and commanded to haue him beheaded in his preſence; affecting rather, to dye without an heire, then to be thought a King void of iuſtice. So theſe two vnfortunate Louers, neuer enioying the very leaſt benefite of their long wiſhed deſires: ended both their liues in violent manner.

In Meſsina there dwelt three yong men, Brethren, and Merchants by their common profeſſion, who becoming very rich by the death of theyr Father, liued in very good fame and repute. Their Father was of San Gemignano, and they had a Siſter named Iſabella, young, beautifull, and well conditioued; who, vpon ſome occaſion, as yet remained vnmaried. A proper youth, being a Gentleman borne in Piſa, and named Lorenzo, as a truſty factor or ſeruant, had the managing of the Brethrens buſineſſe and affaires. This Lorenzo being of comely perſonage, affable, and excellent in his behauiour, grew ſo gracious in the eyes of Iſabella, that ſhee affoorded him many very reſpectiue lookes, yea, kindneſſes of no common quality. Which Lorenzo taking notice of, and obſeruing by degrees from time to time, gaue ouer all other beauties in the Citie, which might allure any affection from him, and only fixed his heart on her, ſo that their loue grew to a mutuall embracing, both equally reſpecting one another, and entertaining kindneſſes, as occaſion gaue leaue.

Long time continued this amorous league of loue, yet not ſo cunningly concealed, but at the length, the ſecret meeting of Lorenzo and Iſabella, to eaſe their poore ſoules of Loues oppreſſions, was diſcouered by the eldeſt of the Brethren, vnknowne to them who were thus betrayed. He being a man of great diſcretion, althogh this ſight was highly diſpleaſing to him: yet notwithſtanding, he kept it to himſelfe till the next morning, labouring his braine what might beſt be done in ſo vrgent a caſe. When day was come, he reſorted to his other brethren, and told them what he had ſeene in the time paſt, betweene their ſiſter and Lorenzo.

Many deliberations paſſed on in this caſe; but after all, thus they concluded together, to let it proceede on with patient ſupportance, that no ſcandall might enſue to them, or their Siſter, no euill acte being (as yet) committed. And ſeeming, as if they knew not of their loue, had a wary eye ſtill vpon her ſecret walkes, awaiting for ſome conuenient time, when without their owne preiudice, or Iſabellaes knowledge, they might ſafely breake off this their ſtolne loue, which was altogither againſt their liking. So, ſhewing no worſe countenance to Lorenzo, then formerly they had done, but imploying and conuerſing with him in kinde manner; it fortuned, that riding (all three) to recreate themſelues out of the Cittie, they tooke Lorenzo in their company, and when they were come to a ſolitarie place, ſuch as beſt ſuited with their vile purpoſe: they ran ſodainly vpon Lorenzo, ſlew him, & afterward enterred hid body, where hardly it could be diſcouered by any one. Then they returned backe to Meſsina, & gaue it forth (as a credible report) that they had ſent him abroad about their affaires, as formerly they were wont to do: which euery one verily beleeued, becauſe they knew no reaſon why they ſhould conceite any otherwiſe.

Iſabella, liuing in expectation of his returne, and perceiuing his ſtay to her was ſo offenſiuely long: made many demands to her Brethren, into what parts they had ſent him, that his tarrying was ſo quite from all wonted courſe. Such was her importunate ſpeeches to them, that they taking it very diſcontentedly, one of them returned her this frowning anſwer. What is your meaning Siſter, by ſo many queſtionings after Lorenzo? What vrgent affaires haue you with him, that makes you ſo impatient vpon his abſence? If heereafter you make any more demands for him, we ſhall ſhape you ſuch a reply, as will bee but little to your liking. At theſe harſh words, Iſabella fell into abundance of teares, where-among ſhe mingled many ſighes and groanes, ſuch as were able to ouerthrow a far ſtronger conſtitution: ſo that, being full of feare and diſmay, yet no way diſtruſting her brethrens cruell deede; ſhee durſt not queſtion any more after him.

In the ſilence of darke night, as ſhe lay afflicted in her bed, oftentimes would ſhe call for Lorenzo, entreating his ſpeedy returning to her: And then againe, as if he had bene preſent with her, ſhe checkt and reproued him for his ſo long abſence. One night amongſt the reſt, ſhe being growen almoſt hopeleſſe, of euer ſeeing him againe, hauing a long while wept and greeuouſly lamented; her ſenſes and faculties vtterly ſpent and tired, that ſhe could not vtter any more complaints, ſhe fell into a trance or ſleepe; and dreamed, that the ghoſt of Lorenzo appeared vnto her, in torne and vnbefitting garments, his lookes pale, meager, and ſtaring: and (as ſhe thought) thus ſpake to her. My deare loue Iſabella, thou doeſt nothing but torment thy ſelfe, with calling on me, accuſing me for ouerlong tarrying from thee: I am come therfore to let thee know, that thou canſt not enioy my company any more, becauſe the very ſame day when laſt thou ſaweſt me, thy brethren moſt bloodily murthered me. And acquainting her with the place where they had buried his mangled body: hee ſtrictly charged her, not to call him at any time afterward, and ſo vaniſhed away.

The yong Damoſell awaking, and giuing ſome credite to her Viſion, ſighed and wept exceedingly; and after ſhe was riſen in the morning, not daring to ſay any thing to her brethren, ſhe reſolutely determined, to go ſee the place formerly appointed her, onely to make triall, if that which ſhe ſeemed to ſee in her ſleepe, ſhould carry any likely-hood of truth. Hauing obtained fauour of her brethren, to ride a dayes iourney from the City, in company of her truſty Nurſe, who long time had attended on her in the houſe, and knew the ſecret paſſages of her loue: they rode directly to the deſigned place, which being couered with ſome ſtore of dried leaues, and more deeply ſunke then any other part of the ground therabout, they digged not farre, but they found the body of murthered Lorenzo, as yet very little corrupted or impaired, and then perceiued the truth of her viſion.

Wiſedome and gouernment ſo much preuailed with her, as to inſtruct her ſoule, that her teares ſpent there, were meerely fruitleſſe and in vaine, neither did the time require any long tarrying there. Gladly would ſhee haue carried the whole body with her, ſecretly to beſtow honourable enterment on it, but it exceeded the compaſſe of her ability. Wherefore, in regard ſhe could not haue all, yet ſhe would be poſſeſſed of a part, & hauing brought a keene razor with her, by helpe of the Nurſe, ſhee diuided the head from the body, and wrapped it vp in a Napkin, which the nurſe conueyed into her lap, and then laide the body in the ground again. Thus being vndiſcouered by any, they departed thence, and arriued at home in conuenient time, where being alone by themſelues in the Chamber: ſhe waſhed the head ouer and ouer with her teares, and beſtowed infinite kiſſes thereon.

Not long after, the Nurſe hauing brought her a large earthen potte, ſuch as wee vſe to ſet Baſile, Marierom, Flowers, or other ſweet hearbes in, and ſhrouding the head in a ſilken Scarfe, put it into the pot, couering it with earth, and planting diuers rootes of excellent Baſile therin, which ſhe neuer watered, but either with her teares, Roſe water, or water diſtilled from the Flowers of Oranges. This pot ſhe vſed continually to ſitte by, either in her chamber, or any where elſe: for ſhe caried it alwaies with her, ſighing and breathing foorth ſad complaints thereto, euen as if they had beene vttered to her Lorenzo, and day by day this was her continuall exerciſe, to the no meane admiration of her brethren, and many other friends that beheld her.

So long ſhe held on in this mourning manner, that, what by the continuall watering of the Baſile, and putrifaction of the head, ſo buried in the pot of earth; it grew very flouriſhing, and moſt odorifferous to ſuch as ſcented it, ſo that as no other Baſile could poſſibly yeeld ſo ſweet a ſauor. The neighbours noting this behauiour in her, obſeruing the long continuance thereof, how much her bright beauty was defaced, and the eyes ſunke into her head by inceſſant weeping, made many kinde and friendly motions, to vnderſtād the reaſon of her ſo violent oppreſſions; but could not by any meanes preuaile with her, or win any diſcouery by her Nurſe, ſo faithfull was ſhe in ſecrecie to her. Her brethren alſo waxed wearie of this carriage in her; and hauing very often reproued her for it, without any other alteration in her: at length, they cloſely ſtole away the potte of Baſile from her, for which ſhe made infinite wofull lamentations, earneſtly entreating to haue it reſtored againe, auouching that ſhee could not liue without it.

Perceiuing that ſhe could not haue the pot againe, ſhe fell into an extreame ſickneſſe, occaſioned onely by her ceaſeleſſe weeping: and neuer vrged ſhe to haue any thing, but the reſtoring of her Baſile pot. Her brethren grew greatly amazed thereat, becauſe ſhee neuer called for ought elſe beſide; and thereupon were very deſirous to ranſacke the pot to the very bottome. Hauing emptied out all the earth, they found the Scarfe of ſilke, wherein the head of Lorenzo was wrapped; which was (as yet) not ſo much conſumed, but by the lockes of haire, they knew it to be Lorenzoes head, whereat they became confounded with amazement.

Fearing leaſt their offence might come to open publication, they buried it very ſecretly; and, before any could take notice thereof, they departed from Meſsina, and went to dwell in Naples. Iſabella crying & calling ſtill for her pot of Baſile, being vnable to giue ouer mourning, dyed within a few dayes after. Thus haue you heard the hard fare of poore Lorenzo and his Iſabella. Within no long while after, when this accident came to be publikely knowne, an excellent ditty was compoſed thereof, beginning thus: Cruell and vnkinde was the Chriſtian, That robd me of my Baſiles bliſſe, &c.

The dreame already recounted in the laſt Nouell, doth miniſter matter to me, to make report of another Tale, wherein mention is made of two ſeuerall dreames; which diuined as well what was to enſue, as the other did what had hapned before. And no ſooner were they finiſhed in the relation, by both the parties which had formerly dreampt them, but the effects of both as ſodainly followed.

Worthy Ladies, I am ſure it is not vnknowne to you, that it is, & hath bene a generall paſſion, to all men and women liuing, to ſee diuers and ſundry things while they are ſleeping. And although (to the ſleeper) they ſeeme moſt certaine, ſo that when he awaketh, hee iudgeth the trueth of ſome, the likelyhood of others, and ſome beyond all poſſibility of truth: yet notwithſtanding, many dreames haue bene obſerued to happen, and very ſtrangely haue come to paſſe. And this hath bene a grounded reaſon for ſome men, to giue as great credit to ſuch things as they ſee ſleeping, as they do to others vſually waking. So that, according vnto their dreames, and as they make conſtruction of them, that are ſadly diſtaſted, or merrily pleaſed, euen as (by them) they either feare or hope. On the contrary, there are ſome, who wil not credit any dreame whatſoeuer, vntill they be falne into the very ſame danger which formerly they ſaw, and moſt euidently in their ſleepe.

I meane not to commend either the one or other, becauſe they do not alwayes fall out to be true; neither are they at all times lyars. Now, that they proue not all to be true, we can beſt teſtifie to our ſelues. And that they are not alwayes lyars, hath already ſufficiently bene manifeſted, by the diſcourſe of Madame Philomena, and as you ſhall perceiue by mine owne, which next commeth in order to ſalute you. Wherefore, I am of this opinion, that in matters of good life, and performing honeſt actions; no dreame is to be feared preſaging the contrary, neither are good works any way to be hindred by them. Likewiſe, in matters of bad and wicked quality, although our dreames may appeare fauourable to vs, and our viſions flatter vs with proſperous ſucceſſe: yet let vs giue no credence vnto the beſt, nor addict our minds to them of contrary Nature. And now we will proceed to our Nouell.

In the Citie of Breſcia, there liued ſomtime a Gentleman, named Meſſer Negro da Ponte Cararo, who (among many other children) had a daughter called Andreana, yong and beautifull, but as yet vnmarried. It fortuned, that ſhee fell in loue with a neighbour, named Gabriello, a comely yong Gentleman, of affable complexion, and graciouſly conditioned. Which loue was (with like kindneſſe) welcommed and entertained by him, and by the furtherance of her Chamber-maide, it was ſo cunningly carried, that in the Garden belonging to Andreanaes Father, ſhe had many meetings with her Gabriello. And ſolemne vowes being mutually paſſed betweene them, that nothing but death could alter their affection: by ſuch ceremonious words as are vſed in marriage, they maried themſelues ſecretly together, and continued their ſtolne chaſte pleaſures, with equall contentment to them both.

It came to paſſe, that Andreana ſleeping in her bed, dreamed, that ſhe met with Gabriello in the Garden, where they both embracing louingly together, ſhe ſeemed to ſee a thing blacke and terrible, which ſodainely iſſued forth of his body, but the ſhape therof ſhe could not comprehend. It rudely ſeized vpon Gabriello, & in deſpight of her vtmoſt ſtrength (with incredible force) ſnatched him out of her armes, and ſinking with him into the earth, they neuer after did ſee one another; whereuppon, ouercome with extremity of greefe and ſorrow, preſently ſhee awaked, being then not a little ioyfull, that ſhe found no ſuch matter as ſhee feared, yet continued very doubtfull of her dreame. In regard whereof, Gabriello being deſirous to viſite her the night following: ſhe laboured very diligently to hinder his comming to her; yet knowing his loyall affection toward her, and fearing leaſt he ſhould grow ſuſpitious of ſome other matter: ſhe welcommed him into the Garden, where gathering both white and Damaske Roſes (according to the nature of the ſeaſon) at length, they ſate downe by a goodly Fountaine, which ſtoode in the midſt of the Garden

After ſome ſmall familiar diſcourſe paſsing betweene them, Gabriello demanded of her vpon what occaſion ſhee denied his comming thither the night before, and by ſuch a ſodaine vnexpected admonition? Andreana told him, that it was in regard of a troubleſome dreame, wherwith hir ſoule was perplexed the precedent night, and doubt what might enſue thereon. Gabriello hearing this, began to ſmile, affirming to her, that it was an eſpeciall note of folly, to giue any credit to idle dreames: becauſe (oftentimes) they are cauſed by exceſſe of feeding, and continually are obſerued to be meere lies. For (quoth hee) if I had any ſuperſtitious beleefe of dreames, I ſhould not then haue come hither nowe: yet not ſo much as being diſmayed by your dreame, but for another of mine owne, which I am the more willing to acquaint you withall.

Me thought, I was in a goodly delightfull Forreſt, in the Noble exerciſe of ſportfull hunting, and became there poſſeſſed of a yong Hinde, the verie louelieſt and moſt pleaſing beaſt that was euer ſeene. It ſeemed to be as white as ſnow, and grew (in a ſhort while) ſo familiar with mee, that by no meanes it would forſake me. I could not but accept this rare kindneſſe in the beaſt, and fearing leaſt (by ſome ill hap) I might looſe it, I put a coller of Gold about the necke thereof, and faſtned it into a chain of Gold alſo, which then I held ſtrictly in my hand. The Hind afterward couched downe by mee, laying his head mildely in my lap; and on a ſudden, a blacke Grey-hound bitch came ruſhing on vs (but whence, or how I could not imagine) ſeeming halfe hunger-ſtarued, and very vgly to look vpon. At me ſhe made her full carriere, without any power in me of reſiſtance: and putting her mouth into the lefte ſide of my boſome, griped it ſo mainly with her teeth, that (me thought) I felt my heart quite bitten through, and ſhe tugged on ſtill, to take it wholly away from me; by which imagined paine and anguiſh I felt, inſtantly I awaked: Laying then my hand vpon my ſide, to know whether any ſuch harme had befaln me, or no, and finding none at all, I ſmiled at mine owne folly, in making ſuch a friuolous and idle ſearch. What can be ſaid then in theſe or the like caſes? Diuers times I haue had as ill ſeeming dreames, yea, and much more to be feared: yet neuer any thing hurtfull to me) followed thereon; and therefore I haue alwaies made the leſſe account of them.

The yong Maiden, who was ſtill diſmayed by her owne dreame, became much more afflicted in her minde, when ſhee had heard this other reported by Gabriello: but yet to giue him no occaſion of diſtaſt, ſhe bare it out in the beſt manner ſhe could deuiſe to doe. And albeit they ſpent the time in much pleaſing diſcourſe, maintained with infinite ſweete kiſſes on either ſide: yet was ſhe ſtill ſuſpitious, but knew not whereof; fixing her eies oftentimes vpon his face, and throwing ſtrange lookes to all parts of the Garden, to catch hold on any ſuch blacke vgly ſight, whereof he had formerly made deſcription to her. As thus ſhe continued in theſe afflicting feares, it fortuned, that Gabriello ſodainly breathing forth a very vehement ſighe, and throwing his armes faſt about her, ſaid: O helpe me deare Loue, or elſe I dye; and, in ſpeaking the words, fell downe vppon the ground. Which the yong Damoſell perceiuing, and drawing him into her lappe, weeping ſaide: Alas ſweete Friend, What paine doſt thou feele?

Gabriello anſwered not one word, but being in an exceeding ſweate, without any ability of drawing breath, very ſoone after gaue vp the ghoſt. How greeuous this ſtrange accident was to poore Andreana, who loued him as deerely as her owne life: you that haue felt loues tormenting afflictions, can more eaſily conceiue, then I relate. Wringing her hands, & weeping inceſſantly, calling him, rubbing his temples, and vſing all likely meanes to reduce life: ſhe found all her labour to be ſpent in vain, becauſe he was ſtarke dead indeed, and euery part of his body as cold as ice: whereupon, ſhe was in ſuch wofull extremity, that ſhe knew not what to do or ſay. All about the Garden ſhe went weeping, in infinite feares and diſtraction of ſoule, calling for her Chamber-maid, the only ſecret friend to their ſtolne meetings, and told her the occaſion of this ſudden ſorow. After they had ſighed and mourned awhile, ouer the dead body of Gabriello, Andreana in this manner ſpake to her maid.

Seeing Fortune hath thus bereft me of my Loue, mine owne life muſt needs be hatefull to me: but before I offer any violence to my ſelfe, let vs deuiſe ſome conuenient meanes, as may both preſerue mine honor from any touch or ſcandall, and conceale the ſecret loue paſſing betweene vs: but yet in ſuch honeſt ſort, that this body (whoſe bleſſed ſoule hath too ſoone forſaken it) may be honourably enterred. Whereto her Mayde thus anſwered: Miſtreſſe, neuer talke of doing any violence to your ſelf, becauſe by ſuch a blacke and diſmall deed, as you haue loſt his kind company here in this life, ſo ſhall you neuer more ſee him in the other world: for immediately you ſinke downe to hell, which foule place cannot bee a receptacle for his faire ſoule, that was endued with ſo many ſingular vertues. Wherefore, I holde it farre better for you, to comfort your ſelfe by all good meanes, and with the power of feruent prayer, to fight againſt all deſperate intruding paſſions, as a truly vertuous minde ought to doe. Now, as concerning his enterrement, the meanes is readily prepared for you heere in this Garden, where neuer he hath bene ſeene by any, or his reſorting hither knowne, but onely to our ſelues. If you will not conſent to haue it ſo, let you and I conuey his bodye hence, and leaue it in ſuch apt place, where it may be found to morrow morning: and being then carried to his owne houſe, his friends and kindred will giue it honeſt buriall.

Andreana, although her ſoule was extraordinarily ſorrowfull, & teares flowed abundantly from her eyes; yet ſhe liſtned attentiuely to hir maids counſell; allowing her firſt aduice againſt deſperation, to be truly good; but to the reſt thus ſhe replied. God forbid (quoth ſhe) that I ſhold ſuffer ſo deare a louing friend, as he hath alwayes ſhewed himſelfe to mee; nay, which is much more, my husband; by ſacred and ſolemn vowes paſſed betweene vs, to be put into the ground baſely, and like a dog, or elſe to be left in the open ſtreete. He hath had the ſacrifice of my virgin teares, and if I can preuaile, he ſhall haue ſome of his kindred, as I haue inſtantly deuiſed, what (in this hard caſe) is beſt to be done. Forthwith ſhe ſent the maid to her Chamber, for diuers elles of white Damaske lying in her Cheſt, which when ſhe had brought, they ſpread it abroad on the graſſe, euen in the manner of a winding ſheete, and therein wrapped the bodie of Gabriello, with a faire wrought pillow lying vnder his head, hauing firſt (with their teares) cloſed his mouth and eyes, and placed a Chaplet of Flowers on his head, couering the whole ſhrowd ouer in the ſame manner; which being done, thus ſhe ſpake to her maide.

The doore of his owne houſe is not farre hence, and thither (between vs two) he may be eaſily carried, euen in this maner as we haue adorned him; where leauing him in his owne Porch, we may returne back before it be day; and although it will be a ſad ſight to his friends; yet, becauſe he dyed in mine armes, and we being ſo well diſcharged of the bodie, it will be a little comfort to me. When ſhe had ended theſe words, which were not vttered without infinite teares, the Maid entreated her to make haſt, becauſe the night paſſed ſwiftly on. At laſt, ſhe remembred the Ring on her finger, wherewith Gabriello had ſolemnly eſpouſed her, and opening the ſhroud againe, ſhe put it on his finger, ſaying, My deare and louing husband, if thy ſoule can ſee my teares, or any vnderſtanding to remaine in thy body, being thus vntimely taken from me: receiue the lateſt guifte thou gaueſt me, as a pledge of our ſolemne and ſpotleſſe marriage. So, making vp the ſhroud againe as it ſhould be, and conueighing it cloſely out of the Garden, they went on along with it, towardes his dwelling houſe.

As thus they paſſed along, it fortuned, that they were met and taken by the Guard or Watch belonging to the Poteſtate, who had bin ſo late abroad, about very earneſt and important buſineſſe. Andreana, deſiring more the dead mans company, then theirs whom ſhe had thus met withall, boldly ſpake thus to them. I know who and what you are, and can tel my ſelfe, that to offer flight will nothing auaile me: wherefore, I am ready to go along with you before the Seigneurie, and there wil tel the truth concerning this accident. But let not any man among you, be ſo bold as to lay hand on me, or to touch me, becauſe I yeeld ſo obediently to you: neither to take any thing from this body, except he intend that I ſhal accuſe him. In which reſpect, not any one daring to diſpleaſe her, ſhee went with the dead bodye to the Seigneurie, there to anſwere all Obiections.

When notice heereof was giuen to the Poteſtate, he aroſe; and ſhee being brought foorth into the Hall before him, he queſtioned with her, how and by what meanes this accident happened. Beſide, he ſent for diuers Phyſitians, to be informed by them, whether the Gentleman were poyſoned, or otherwiſe murthered: but al of them affirmed the contrary, auouching rather, that ſome impoſtumation had engendred neere his heart, which ſodainly breaking, occaſioned his as ſodaine death. The Poteſtate hearing this, and perceiuing that Andreana was little or nothing at all faulty in the matter: her beauty and good carriage, kindled a villanous and luſtfull deſire in him towards her, prouoking him to the immodeſt motion, that vpon granting his requeſt, he would releaſe her. But when he ſaw, that all his perſwaſions were to no purpoſe, hee ſought to compaſſe his will by violence; which, like a vertuous and valiant Virago, ſhee worthily withſtood, defending her honour Nobly, and reproouing him with many iniurious ſpeeches, ſuch as a luſtfull Letcher iuſtlie deſerued.

On the morrow morning, theſe newes being brought to her Father, Meſſer Negro da Ponte Cararo; greeuing thereat exceedingly, and accompanied with many of his friends, he went to the Palace. Being there arriued, and informed of the matter by the Poteſtate: hee demaunded (in teares) of his daughter, how, and by what meanes ſhee was brought thither? The Poteſtate would needs accuſe her firſt, of outrage and wrong offered to him by her, rather then to tarry her accuſing of him: yet, commending the yong Maiden, and her conſtancie, proceeded to ſay, that onely to proue her, he had made ſuch a motion to her, but finding her ſo firmly vertuous, his loue and liking was now ſo addicted to her, that if hir Father were ſo pleaſed, to forget the remembrance of her former ſecret husband, he willingly would accept her in marriage.

While thus they continued talking, Andreana comming before her Father, the teares trickling mainly downe her cheekes, and falling at his feete, ſhe began in this manner. Deare Father, I ſhall not neede to make an hiſtoricall relation, either of my youthfull boldneſſe or misfortunes, becauſe you haue both ſeene and knowne them: rather moſt humblie, I craue your pardon, for another errour by me committed, in that, both without your leaue and liking, I accepted the man as my troth-plighted husband, whom (aboue all other in the world) I moſt intirely affected. If my offence heerein do challenge the forfeite of my life, then (good Father) I free you from any ſuch pardon: becauſe my onely deſire is to die your daughter, and in your gracious fauour; with which words, in ſigne of her humility, ſhe kiſſed his feete. Meſſer Negro da Ponte, being a man well ſtept into yeares, and of a milde and gentle nature, obſeruing what his daughter had ſaide: could not refraine from teares, and in his weeping, louingly tooke her from the ground, ſpeaking thus to her.

Daughter, I could haue wiſhed, that thou hadſt taken ſuch an husbād, as (in my iudgement) had bene beſt fitting for thee, and yet if thou didſt make election of one, anſwerable to thine owne good opinion & liking: I haue no iuſt reaſon to be therewith offended. My greateſt cauſe of complaint, is, thy too ſeuere concealing it from me, and the ſlender truſt thou didſt repoſe in me, becauſe thou haſt loſt him, before I knew him. Neuertheleſſe, ſeeing theſe occaſions are thus come to paſſe, and accidents alreadie ended, cannot by any meanes be re-called: it is my will, that as I would gladly haue contented thee, by making him my Sonne in Law, if he had liued; ſo I will expreſſe the like loue to him now he is dead. And ſo turning himſelf to his kindred and friends, louingly requeſted of them, that they would grace Gabriello with moſt honorable obſequies.

By this time, the kindred and friends to the dead man (vppon noiſe of his death bruited abroad) were likewiſe come to the Pallace, yea, moſt of the men and women dwelling in the Citty, the bodie of Gabriello beeing laide in the midſt of the Court, vpon the white Damaske ſhrowde giuen by Andreana, with infinite Roſes and other ſweet Flowers lying thereon: and ſuch was the peoples loue to him, that neuer was any mans death, more to be bemoaned and lamented. Being deliuered out of the Court, it was carried to buriall, not like a Burgeſſe or ordinary Citizen, but with ſuch pompe as beſeemed a Lord Baron, and on the ſhoulders of very noble Gentlemen, with very eſpeciall honor and reuerence.

Within ſome few dayes after, the Poteſtate purſuing his former motion of marriage, and the Father mouing it to his daughter; ſhe wold not by any meanes liſten thereto. And he being deſirous to giue her contentment, deliuered her and her Chamber-maid into a Religious Abbey, very famous for deuotion and ſanctity, where afterwardes they ended their liues.

PAmphilus hauing ended his Tale, the King declaring an outward ſhew of compaſſion, in regard of Andreanaes diſaſtrous Fortune: fixed his eye on Madam Emillia, and gaue her ſuch an apparant ſigne, as expreſſed his pleaſure, for her next ſucceeding in diſcourſe; which being ſufficient for her vnderſtanding, thus ſhe began. Faire aſſembly, the Nouel ſo lately deliuered by Pamphilus, maketh me willing to report another to you, varying from it, in any kinde of reſemblance; onely this excepted: that as Andreana loſt her louer in a Garden, euen ſo did ſhee of whome I am now to ſpeake. And being brought before the ſeate of Iuſtice, according as Andreana was, freed her ſelfe from the power of the Law; yet neither by force, or her owne vertue, but by her ſodaine and inopinate death. And although the nature of Loue is ſuch (according as wee haue oftentimes heeretofore maintained) to make his abiding in the houſes of the Nobleſt perſons; yet men and women of poore and farre inferiour quality, do not alwayes ſit out of his reach, though encloſed in their meaneſt Cottages; declaring himſelfe ſometimes as powerfull a commaunder in thoſe humble places, as he doth in the richeſt and moſt imperious Palaces. As will plainly appeare vnto you, either in all, or a great part of my Nouell, whereto our Citie pleadeth ſome title; though, by the diuerſity of our diſcourſes, talking of ſo many ſeuerall accidents; we haue wandred into many other parts of the world, to make all anſwerable to our owne liking.

It is not any long time ſince, when there liued in our City of Florence, a young and beautifull Damoſell, yet according to the nature of hir condition; becauſe ſhe was the Daughter of a poore Father, and called by the name of Simonida. Now, albeit ſhee was not ſupplied by any better meanes, then to maintaine her ſelfe by her owne painfull trauell, & earne her bread before ſhee could eate it, by carding and ſpinning to ſuch as employed her; yet was ſhe not of ſo baſe or deiected a ſpirit, but had both courage and ſufficient vertue, to vnderſtand the ſecret ſolicitings of loue, and to diſtinguiſh the parts of well deſeruing both by priuate behauiour and outward ceremony. As naturall inſtinct was her firſt tutor thereto, ſo wanted ſhe not a ſecond maine and vrging motion, a chip hewed out of the like Timber, one no better in birth then her ſelfe, a proper young ſpringall, named Paſquino, whoſe generous behauiour, and gracefull actions (in bringing her daily wooll to ſpin, by reaſon his maſter was a Clothier) preuailed vpon her liking and affection.

Nor was he negligent in the obſeruation of her amorous regards, but the Tinder tooke, and his ſoule flamed with the ſelfe-ſame fire; making him as deſirous of her louing acceptance, as poſsibly ſhe could bee of his: ſo that the commanding power of loue, could not eaſily be diſtinguiſhed in which of them it had the greater predominance. For, euerie day as he brought her freſh ſupply of woolles, and found her ſeriouſly buſied at hir wheele: her ſoule would vent forth many deepe ſighes, and thoſe ſighes fetch floods of teares from her eyes, thorough the ſingular good opinion ſhe had conceyued of him, and earneſt deſire to enioy him. Paſquino on the other ſide, as leyſure gaue him leaue for the leaſt conuerſing with her: his diſeaſe was euery way anſwerable to her, for teares ſtood in his eyes, ſighes flew abroad, to eaſe the poore hearts afflicting oppreſſions, which though he was vnable to conceale; yet would hee ſeeme to clowd them cleanly, by entreating her that his maſters worke might be nearly performed, and with ſuch ſpeed as time would permit her, intermixing infinite praiſes of her artificiall ſpinning; and affirming withall, that the Quilles of Yearne receiued from her, were the choiſeſt beauty of the whole peece; ſo that when other worke-women played, Simonida was ſure to want no employment.

Heereupon, the one ſoliciting, and the other taking delight in beeing ſolicited; it came to paſſe, that often acceſſe bred the bolder courage, & ouer-much baſhfulneſſe became abandoned, yet no immodeſtie paſſing betweene them: but affection grew the better ſetled in them both▪ by interchangeable vowes of conſtant perſeuerance, ſo that death onely, but no diſaſter elſe had power to diuide them. Their mutuall delight continuing on in this manner, with more forcible encreaſing of their Loues equall flame it fortuned, that Paſquino ſitting by Simonida, tolde her of a goodly Garden, whereto hee was deſirous to bring her, to the end, that they might the more ſafely conuerſe together, without the ſuſpition of enuious eyes. Simonida gaue anſwer of her well-liking the motion, and acquainting her Father therewith, he gaue her leaue, on the Sunday following after dinner, to go ferch the pardon of S. Gallo, and afterwards to viſit the Garden.

A modeſt yong maiden named Lagina, following the ſame profeſſion, and being an intimate familiar friend, Simonida tooke along in her company, and came to the Garden appointed by Paſquino; where ſhee found him readily expecting her comming, and another friend alſo with him, called Puccino (albeit more vſually tearmed Strambo) a ſecret well-willer to Lagina, whoſe loue became the more furthered by this friendly meeting. Each Louer delighting in his hearts choſen Miſtreſſe, cauſed them to walke alone by themſelues, as the ſpaciouſneſſe of the Garden gaue them ample liberty: Puccino with his Lagina in one part, & Paſquino with his Simonida in another. The walke which they had made choiſe of, was by a long and goodly bed of Sage, turning and returning by the ſame bed as their conference miniſtred occaſion, and as they pleaſed to recreate themſelues, affecting rather to continue ſtill there, then in any part of the Garden.

One while they would ſit downe by the Sage bed, and afterward riſe to walke againe, as eaſe or wearineſſe ſeemed to inuite them. At length, Paſquino chanced to crop a leafe of the Sage, wherewith he both rubbed his teeth and gummes, and champing it betweene them alſo, ſaying; that there was no better thing in the world to cleanſe the teeth withall, after feeding. Not long had he thus champed the Sage in his teeth, returning to his former kinde of diſcourſing, but his countenance began to change very pale, his ſight failed, and ſpeech forſooke him; ſo that (in briefe) he fell downe dead. Which when Simonida beheld, wringing her hands, ſhe cryed out for helpe to Strambo and Lagina, who immediately came running to her. They finding Paſquino not onely to be dead, but his bodie ſwolne, and ſtrangely ouer-ſpred with foule black ſpots, both on his face, handes, and all parts elſe beſide: Strambo cried out, ſaying; Ah wicked maide, what haſt thou poiſoned him?

Theſe words and their ſhrill out-cries alſo, were heard by Neighbours dwelling neere to the Garden, who comming in ſodainly vppon them, and ſeeing Paſquino lying dead, and hugely ſwoln, Strambo likewiſe complaining, and accuſing Simonida to haue poyſoned him; ſhee making no anſwer, but ſtanding in a gaſtly amazement, all her ſenſes meerely confounded, at ſuch a ſtrange and vncouth accident, in looſing him whome ſhe ſo dearely loued: knew not how to excuſe her ſelfe, and therfore euery one verily beleeued, that Strambo had not vniuſtly accuſed her. Poore woful maide, thus was ſhee inſtantly apprehended, and drowned in her teares, they led her along to the Poteſtates Palace, where her accuſation was iuſtified by Strambo, Lagina, and two men more; the one named Atticciato, and the other Malageuole, fellowes and companions with Paſquino, who came into the Garden alſo vpon the out-cry.

The Iudge, without any delay at all, gaue eare to the buſines, and examined the caſe very ſtrictly: but could by no meanes comprehend, that any malice ſhould appeare in her towards him, nor that ſhe was guiltie of the mans death. Wherefore, in the pre • ence of Simonida, hee deſired to ſee the dead body, and the place where he fell downe dead, becauſe there he intended to haue her relate, how ſhe ſaw the accident to happen, that her owne ſpeeches might the ſooner condemne her, whereas the caſe yet remained doubtfull, and farre beyond his comprehenſion. So, without any further publication, and to auoid the following of the turbulent multitude: they departed from the bench of Iuſtice, and came to the place, where Paſquinoes body lay ſwolne like a Tunne. Demanding there queſtions, concerning his behauiour, when they walked there in conference together, and, not a little admiring the manner of his death, while hee ſtood aduiſedly conſidering thereon.

She going to the bed of Sage, reporting the whole precedent hiſtory, euen from the original to the ending: the better to make the caſe vnderſtood, without the leaſt colour of ill carriage towardes Paſquino; according as ſhe had ſeene him do, euen ſo did ſhe plucke another leafe of the Sage, rubbing her teeth therewith, and champing it as he formerly did. Strambo, and the other intimate friends of Paſquino, hauing noted in what manner ſhe vſed the Sage, and this appearing as her vtmoſt refuge, either to acquit or condemne her: in preſence of the Iudge they ſmiled thereat, mocking and deriding whatſoeuer ſhee ſaide, or did, and deſiring (the more earneſtly) the ſentence of death againſt her, that her body might be conſumed with fire, as a iuſt puniſhment for her abhominable tranſgreſſion.

Poore Simonida, ſighing and ſorrowing for her deere loues loſſe, and (perhappes) not meanly terrified, with the ſtrict infliction of torment ſo ſeuerely vrged and followed by Strambo and the reſt: ſtanding dumb ſtill, without anſwering ſo much as one word; by taſting of the ſame Sage, fell downe dead by the bed, euen by the like accident as Paſquino formerly did, to the admirable aſtoniſhment of all there preſent.

Oh poore infortunate Louers, whoſe Starres were ſo inauſpicious to you, as to finiſh both your mortall liues, and feruent loue, in leſſe limitation then a dayes ſpace. How to cenſure of your deaths, and happines to enſue thereon, by an accident ſo ſtraunge and ineuitable: it is not within the compaſſe of my power, but to hope the beſt, and ſo I leaue you. But yet concerning Simonida her ſelfe, in the common opinion of vs that remaine liuing: her true vertue and innocency (though Fortune was other wiſe moſt cruell to her) would not ſuffer her to ſinke vnder the teſtimony of Strambo, Lagina, Atticciato and Malageuole, being but carders of wool, or perhaps of meaner condition; a happier courſe was ordained for her, to paſſe clearly from their infamous imputation, and follow her Paſquino, in the verie ſame manner of death, and with ſuch a ſpeedie expedition.

The Iudge ſtanding amazed, and all there preſent in his companie, were ſilent for a long while together: but, vppon better re-collection of his ſpirits, thus he ſpake. This inconuenience which thus hath hapned, and confounded our ſenſes with no common admiration; in mine opinion concerneth the bed of Sage, auouching it either to bee venomous, or dangerouſly infected, which (neuertheleſſe) is ſeldom found in Sage. But to the end, that it may not be offenſiue to any more heereafter, I will haue it wholly digd vp by the rootes, and then to bee burnt in the open Market place.

Hereupon, the Gardiner was preſently ſent for, and before the Iudge would depart thence, he ſaw the bed of Sage digged vp by the roots, and found the true occaſion, whereby theſe two poore Louers loſt their liues, For, iuſt in the middeſt of the bed, and at the maine roote, which directed all the Sage in growth; lay an huge mighty Toad, euen weltring (as it were) in a hole full of poyſon; by meanes whereof, in coniecture of the Iudge, and all the reſt, the whole bed of Sage became envenomed, occaſioning euery leafe thereof to be deadly in taſte. None being ſo hardie, as to approach neere the Toade, they made a pile of wood directly ouer it, and ſetting it on a flaming fire, threw all the Sage therinto, and ſo they were conſumed together. So ended all further ſuite in Lawe, concerning the deaths of Paſquino and Simonida: whoſe bodies being carried to the Church of Saint Paul, by their ſad and ſorrowfull accuſers, Strambo, Lagina, Atticciato and Malageuole, were buried together in one goodlie Monument, for a future memory of their hard Fortune.

WHen the Nouell of Madam Neiphila was ended, which occaſioned much compaſſion in the whole aſſembly; the King who wold not infringe the priuiledge graunted to Dioneus, no more remaining to ſpeake but they two, began thus. I call to minde (gentle Ladies) a Nouell, which (ſeeing we are ſo farre entred into the lamentable accidents of ſucceſſeleſſe loue, will vrge you vnto as much commiſſeration, as that ſo lately reported to you. And ſo much the rather, becauſe the perſons of whom we are to ſpeake, were of reſpectiue quality; which approueth the accident to bee more cruell, then thoſe whereof wee haue formerly diſcourſed.

According as the people of Prouence do report, there dwelt ſometime in that iuriſdiction, two noble Knights, each well poſſeſſed of Caſtles & followers; the one beeing named Meſſer Guiglielmo de Roſsiglione, and the other Meſſer Guiglielmo Guardaſtagno. Now, in regard that they wer both valiant Gentlemen, and ſingularly expert in actions of Armes; they loued together the more mutually, and held it as a kinde of cuſtom, to be ſeene in all Tiltes and Tournaments, or any other exerciſes of Armes, going commonly alike in their wearing garments. And although their Caſtles ſtood about fiue miles diſtant each from other, yet were they dayly conuerſant together, as very louing and intimate friends. The one of them, I meane Meſſer Guiglielmo de Roſsiglione, had to wife a very gallant beautifull Lady, of whom Meſſer Guardaſtagno (forgetting the lawes of reſpect and loyall friendſhippe) became ouer-fondly enamoured, expreſſing the ſame by ſuch outward meanes, that the Lady her ſelfe tooke knowledge thereof, and not with any diſlike, as it ſeemed, but rather louingly entertained; yet ſhe grew not ſo forgetfull of her honour and eſtimation, as the other did of faith to his friend.

With ſuch indiſcretion was this idle loue carried, that whether it ſorted to effect, or no, I know not: but the husband receiued ſome ſuch maner of behauiour, as hee could not eaſily digeſt, nor thought it fitting to endure. Whereuppon, the league of friendly amity ſo long continued, began to faile in very ſtrange faſhion, and became conuerted into deadly hatred: which yet hee very cunningly concealed, bearing an outwarde ſhew of conſtant friendſhippe ſtill, but (in his heart) hee had vowed the death of Guardaſtagno. Nothing wanted, but by what meanes it might beſt be effected, which fell out to bee in this manner. A publicke luſt or Tourney, was proclaimed by ſound of Trumpet throughout all France, wherewith immediately, Meſſer Guiglielmo Roſsiglione acquainted Meſſer Guardaſtagno, entreating him that they might further conferre theron together, and for that purpoſe to come and viſit him, if he intended to haue any hand in the buſineſſe. Guardaſtagno being exceeding gladde of this accident, which gaue him liberty to ſee his Miſtreſſe; ſent anſwer backe by the meſſenger, that on the morrow at night, he would come and ſup with Roſsiglione; who vpon this reply, proiected to himſelfe in what maner to kill him.

On the morrow, after dinner, arming himſelfe, and two more of his ſeruants with him, ſuch as he had ſolemnly ſworne to ſecrecy, hee mounted on horſeback, and rode on about a mile from his owne Caſtle, where he lay cloſely ambuſhed in a Wood, through which Guardaſtagno muſt needs paſſe. After he had ſtayed there ſome two houres ſpace and more, he eſpyed him come riding with two of his attendants, all of them being vnarmed, as no way diſtruſting any ſuch intended treaſon. So ſoone as he was come to the place, where he had reſolued to do the deed; hee ruſhed forth of the ambuſh, and hauing a ſharpe Lance readily charged in his reſt, ran mainly at him, ſaying: Falſe villaine, thou art dead. Guardaſtagno, hauing nothing wherewith to defend himſelfe, nor his ſeruants able to giue him any ſuccour; being pierced quite through the body with the Lance, downe hee fell dead to the ground, and his men (fearing the like misfortune to befall them) gallopped mainely backe againe to their Lords Caſtle, not knowing them who had thus murthered their Maſter, by reaſon of their armed diſguiſes, which in thoſe martiall times were vſually worne.

Meſſer Guiglielmo Roſsiglione, alighting from his horſe, and hauing a keene knife ready drawne in his hand; opened therewith the breſt of dead Guardaſtagno, and taking foorth his heart with his owne hands, wrapped it in the Banderole belonging to his Lance, commanding one of his men to the charge thereof, and neuer to diſcloſe the deed. So, mounting on horſe-backe againe, and darke night drawing on apace, he returned home to his Caſtle. The Lady, who had heard before of Guardaſtagnoes intent, to ſuppe there that night, and (perhaps) being earneſtly deſirous to ſee him; meruailing at his ſo long tarrying, ſaide to her husband. Beleeue me Sir (quoth ſhe) me thinkes it is ſomewhat ſtrange, that Meſſer Guiglielmo Guardaſtagno delayes his comming ſo long, he neuer vſed to do ſo til now. I receiued tidings from him wife (ſaid he) that he cannot be heere till to morrow. Whereat the Lady appearing to bee diſpleaſed, concealed it to her ſelfe, and vſed no more words.

Roſsiglione leauing his Lady, went into the Kitchin, where calling for the Cooke, he deliuered him the heart, ſaying: Take this heart of a wilde Boare, which it was my good happe to kill this day, and dreſſe it in the daintieſt manner thou canſt deuiſe to doe; which being ſo done, when I am ſet at the Table, ſend it to me in a ſiluer diſh, with ſauce beſeeming ſo dainty a morſell. The Cooke tooke the heart, beleeuing it to be no otherwiſe, then as his Lord had ſaide: and vſing his vtmoſt skill in dreſſing it, did diuide it into artificiall ſmall ſlices, and made it moſt pleaſing to be taſted. When ſupper time was come, Roſsiglione ſate downe at the table with his Lady: but hee had little or no appetite at all to eate, the wicked deed which he had done ſo perplexed his ſoule, and made him to ſit very ſtrangely muſing. At length, the Cook brought in the dainty diſh, which he himſelfe ſetting before his wife, began to finde fault with his own lack of ſtomack, yet prouoked her with many faire ſpeeches, to taſt the Cooks cunning in ſo rare a diſh.

The Lady hauing a good appetite indeede, when ſhe had firſt taſted it, fed afterward ſo heartily thereon, that ſhee left very little, or none at all remaining. When he perceyued that all was eaten, he ſaid vnto her: Tel me Madam, how you do like this delicate kinde of meat? In good faith Sir (quoth ſhe) in all my life I was neuer better pleaſed. Now truſt mee Madam, anſwered the Knight, I doe verily beleeue you, nor do I greatly wonder thereat, if you like that dead, which you loued ſo dearly being aliue. When ſhe heard theſe words, a long while ſhe ſate ſilent, but afterward ſaide. I pray you tell mee Sir, what meate was this which you haue made me to eate? Muſe no longer (ſaid he) for therein I will quickly reſolue thee. Thou haſt eaten the heart of Meſſer Guiglielmo Guardaſtagno, whoſe loue was ſo deare and precious to thee, thou falſe, perfidious, and diſloyall Lady: I pluckt it out of his vile body with mine owne hands, and made my Cooke to dreſſe it for thy diet.

Poor Lady, how ſtrangely was her ſoule afflicted, hearing theſe harſh and vnpleaſing ſpeeches? Teares flowed aboundantly from her faire eies, and like tempeſtuous windes embowelled in the earth, ſo did vehement ſighes breake mainly from her heart, and after a tedious time of ſilence, ſhe ſpake in this manner. My Lord and husband, you haue done a moſt diſloyall and damnable deede, miſguided by your owne wicked iealous opinion, and not by any iuſt cauſe giuen you, to murther ſo worthie and Noble a Gentleman. I proteſt vnto you vppon my ſoule, which I wiſh to bee confounded in eternall perdition, if euer I were vnchaſte to your bedde, or allowed him any other fauour, but what might well become ſo honourable a friend. And ſeeing my bodie hath bene made the receptacle for ſo precious a kinde of foode, as the heart of ſo valiant and courteous a Knight, ſuch as was the Noble Guardaſtagno; neuer ſhall any other foode heereafter, haue entertainment there, or my ſelfe liue the Wife to ſo bloody a husband.

So ſtarting vppe from the Table, and ſtepping vnto a great gazing Windowe, the Caſement whereof ſtanding wide open behinde her: violently ſhee leaped out thereat, which beeing an huge heighth in diſtance from the ground, the fall did not onely kill her, but alſo ſhiuered her bodie into many peeces. Which Roſsiglione perceyuing, hee ſtoode like a bodie without a ſoule, confounded with the killing of ſo deare a friend, loſſe of a chaſte and honourable wife, and all through his owne ounr-credulous conceit.

Vppon further conference with his priuate thoughtes, and remorſefull acknowledgement of his heinous offence, which repentance (too late) gaue him eyes now to ſee, though raſhneſſe before would not permit him to conſider; theſe two extreamities inlarged his dulled vnderſtanding. Firſt, he grew fearfull of the friends and followers to murdered Guardaſtagno, as alſo the whole Countrey of Prouence, in regarde of the peoples generall loue vnto him; which being two maine and important motiues, both to the deteſtation of ſo horrid an acte, and immediate ſeuere reuenge to ſucceed thereon: hee made ſuch prouiſion as beſt hee could, and as ſo ſodaine a warning would giue leaue, hee fled away ſecretly in the night ſeaſon.

Theſe vnpleaſing newes were ſoone ſpread abroad the next morning, not only of the vnfortunate accidents, but alſo of Roſsiglions flight; in regard wherof, the dead bodyes being found, and brought together, as well by the people belonging to Guardaſtagno, as them that attended on the Lady: they were layed in the Chappell of Roſsigliones Caſtell; where, after ſo much lamentation for ſo great a misfortune to befal them, they were honourably enterred in one faire Tombe, with excellent Verſes engrauen thereon, expreſſing both their noble degree, and by what vnhappy meanes, they chanced to haue buriall there.

AFTER that the King had concluded his Nouell, there remained none now but Dioneus to tell the laſt: which himſelfe confeſſing, and the King commaunding him to proceede, he beganne in this manner. So many miſeries of vnfortunate Loue, as all of you haue alreadie related, hath not onely ſwolne your eyes with weeping, but alſo made ſicke our hearts with ſighing: yea (Gracious Ladies) I my ſelfe finde my ſpirits not meanly afflicted thereby. Wherefore the whole day hath bene very irkeſome to me, and I am not a little glad, that it is ſo neere ending. Now, for the better ſhutting it vp altogether, I would be very loath to make an addition, of any more ſuch ſad and mournfull matter, good for nothing but onely to feede melancholly humor, and from which (I hope) my faire Starres will defend me. Tragical diſcourſe, thou art no fit companion for me, I will therefore report a Nouell which may miniſter a more iouiall kinde of argument, vnto thoſe tales that muſt bee told to morrow, and with the expiration of our preſent Kings reigne, to rid vs of all heart-greeuing heereafter.

Know then (moſt gracious aſſembly) that it is not many yeares ſince, when there liued in Salerne, a verie famous Phyſitian, named Signieur Mazzeo della Montagna, who being already well entred into years, would (neuertheleſſe) marrie with a beautifull young Mayden of the Cittie, beſtowing rich garments, gaudie attyres, Ringes, and Iewelles on her, ſuch as few Women elſe could any way equall, becauſe hee loued her moſt deerely. Yet being an aged man, and neuer remembering, how vaine and idle a thing it is, for age to make ſuch an vnfitting Election, iniurious to both; and therefore endangering that domeſticke agreement, which ought to bee the ſole and maine comfort of Marriage: it maketh mee therefore to miſdoubt, that as in our former Tale of Signiour Ricciardo de Cinzica, ſome dayes of the Calender did heere ſeeme as diſtaſtefull, as thoſe that occaſioned the other Womans diſcontentment. In ſuch vnequall choyſes, Parents commonly are more blamewoorthie, then any imputation, to bee layde on the young Women, who gladdely would enioy ſuch as in heart they haue elected: but that their Parents, looking thorough the glaſſes of greedie lucre, doe ouerthrow both their owne hopes, and the faire fortunes of their children together.

Yet to ſpeake vprightly of this young married Wife, ſhe declared her ſelfe to be of a wiſe and chearefull ſpirit, not diſcoraged with her inequalitie of marriage: but bearing all with a contented browe, for feare of vrging the very leaſt miſlike in her Husband. And hee, on the other ſide, when occaſions did not call him to viſite his pacients, or to be preſent at the Colledge among his fellow-Doctours, would alwayes bee chearing and comforting his Wife, as one that could hardly affoord to bee out of her company. There is one eſpeciall fatall misfortune, which commonly awaiteth on olde mens marriages; when freezing December will match with flouring May, and greene deſires appeare in age, beyond all poſſibility of performance. Nor are there wanting good ſtore of wanton Gallants, who hating to ſee Beauty in this manner betrayed, and to the embraces of a loathed bed, will make their folly ſeene in publike appearance, and by their dayly proffers of amorous ſeruices (ſeeming compaſſionate of the womans diſaſter) are vſually the cauſe of iealous ſuſpitions, & very heinous houſhold diſcontentments.

Among diuers other, that faine would bee nibling at this bayte of beautie, there was one, named Ruggiero de Ieroly, of honourable parentage, but yet of ſuch a deboſhed and diſordered life, as neither Kindred or Friends, were willing to take any knowledge of him, but vtterly gaue him ouer to his diſſolute courſes: ſo that, thoroughout all Salerne, his conditions cauſed his generall contempt, and hee accounted no better, but euen as a theeuing and lewde companion. The Doctours Wife, had a Chamber-maide attending on her; who, notwithſtanding all the vgly deformities in Ruggiero, regarding more his perſon then his imperfections (becauſe hee was a compleate and well-featured youth) beſtowed her affection moſt entirely on him, and oftentimes did ſupplie his wants, with her owne beſt meanes.

Ruggiero hauing this benefite of the Maides kinde loue to him, made it an hopefull mounting Ladder, whereby to deriue ſome good liking from the Miſtreſſe, preſuming rather on his outward comely parts, then anie other honeſt quality that might commend him. The Miſtreſſe knowing what choyſe her Maide had made, and vnable by any perſwaſions to remooue her, tooke knowledge of Ruggieroes priuat reſorting to hir houſe, and in meere loue to her Maide (who had very many eſpeciall deſeruings in her) oftentimes ſhe would (in kinde manner) rebuke him, and aduiſe him to a more ſetled courſe of life; which counſell, that it might take the better effect; ſhe graced with liberall gifts: one while with Gold, others with Siluer, and often with garments, for his comelier acceſſe thether: which bounty, he (like a lewde miſtaker) interpreted as aſſurances of her affection to him, and that he was more graceful in her eye, then any man elſe could be.

In the continuance of theſe proceedings, it came to paſſe, that maſter Doctor Mazzeo (being not onely a moſt expert Phyſitian, but likewiſe as skilfull in Chirurgerie beſide) hadde a Pacient in cure, who by great misfortune, had one of his legges broken all in pieces; which ſome weaker iudgement hauing formerly dealt withall, the bones and ſinewes were become ſo fowly putrified, as he tolde the parties friends, that the legge muſt bee quite cut off, or elſe the Pacient muſt needes dye: yet he intended ſo to order the matter, that the perrill ſhould proceede no further, to preiudice any other part of the bodie. The caſe beeing thus reſolued on with the Pacient and his Friends, the day and time was appointed when the deede ſhould be done: and the Doctor conceyuing, that except the Patient were ſleepily entranced, hee could not by anie meanes endure the paine, but muſt needes hinder what he meant to do: by diſtillation hee made ſuch an artificiall Water, as (after the Pacient hath receyued it) it will procure a kinde of dead ſleepe, and endure ſo long a ſpace, as neceſſity requireth the vſe thereof, in full performance of the worke.

After he had made this ſleepy water, he put it into a glaſſe, wherewith it was filled (almoſt) vp to the brimme; and till the time came when hee ſhould vſe it, hee ſet it in his owne Chamber-Windowe, neuer acquainting any one, to what purpoſe he had prouided the water, nor what was his reaſon of ſetting it there; when it drew towards the euening, and he was returned home from his pacients, a Meſſenger brought him Letters from Malfy, concerning a great conflict hapning there between two Noble Families, wherein diuers were very dangerouſly wounded on either ſide, and without his ſpeedy repairing thither, it would proue to the loſſe of many liues. Heereupon, the cure of the mans leg muſt needs bee prolonged, vntill he was returned backe againe, in regard that manie of the wounded perſons were his worthy friends, and liberall bountie was there to be expected, which made him preſently go aboord a ſmal Barke, and forthwith ſet away towards Malfy.

This abſence of Maſter Doctor Mazzeo, gaue opportunity to aduenturous Ruggiero, to viſite his houſe (he being gone) in hope to get more Crownes, and courteſie from the Miſtreſſe, vnder formall colour of courting the Maide. And being cloſely admitted into the houſe, when diuers Neighbours were in conference with her Miſtreſſe, and helde her with ſuch pleaſing Diſcourſe, as required longer time then was expected: the Maide, had no other roome to conceale Ruggiero in, but onely the bed chamber of her Maſter, where ſhe lockt him in; becauſe none of the houſhold people ſhould deſcry him, and ſtayed attending on her Miſtris, till all the Gueſts tooke their leaue, and were gone. Ruggiero thus remayning alone in the Chamber, for the ſpace of three long houres and more, was viſited neither by Maide nor Miſtris, but awaited when he ſhould bee ſet at liberty.

Now, whether feeding on ſalt meats before his coming thither, or cuſtomary vſe of drinking, which maketh men vnable any long while to abſtain, as being neuer ſatisfied with exceſſe; which of theſe two extreams they were, I know not: but drink needs hee muſt. And, hauing no other meanes for quenching his thirſt, eſpied the glaſſe of water ſtanding in the Window, and thinking it to be ſome ſoueraigne kinde of water, reſerued by the Doctor for his owne drinking, to make him luſty in his old years, he tooke the glaſſe; and finding the Water pleaſing to his pallate, dranke it off euery drop; then ſitting downe on a Coffer by the beds ſide, ſoone after hee fell into a ſound ſleepe, according to the powerfull working of the water.

No ſooner were all the Neighbours gone, and the Maide at libertie from her Miſtreſſe, but vnlocking the doore, into the chamber ſhe went; and finding Ruggiero ſitting faſt aſleepe, ſhe began to hunch and punche him, entreating him (ſoftly) to awake: but all was to no purpoſe, for hee neither mooued, or anſwered one word, whereat her patience being ſom what prouoked, ſhe punched him more rudely, and angerly ſaid: Awake for ſhame thou drowſie dullard, and if thou be ſo deſirous of ſleeping, get thee home to thine owne lodging, becauſe thou art not allowed to ſleep heere. Ruggiero being thus rudely punched, fell from off the Coffer flat on the ground, appearing no other in all reſpects, then as if hee were a dead body. Whereat the Maide being fearfully amazed, plucking him by the noſe and yong beard, and what elſe ſhe could deuiſe to do, yet all her labour prouing ſtill in vaine: ſhe was almoſt beſide her wits, ſtamping and rauing all about the roome, as if ſence and reaſon had forſaken her; ſo violent was her extreame diſtraction.

Vpon the hearing of this noiſe, her Miſtris came ſodainely into the Chamber, where being affrighted at ſo ſtrange an accident, and ſuſpecting that Ruggiero was dead indeed: ſhe pinched him ſtrongly, and burnt his fingers with a candle, yet all was as fruitleſſe as before. Then ſitting downe, ſhe began to conſider aduiſedly with her ſelfe, how much her honour and reputation would be endangered heereby, both with her Huſband, and in vulgar opinion when this ſhould come to publique notice. For (quoth ſhe to her Maide) it is not thy fond loue to this vnruly fellow that can ſway the cenſure of the monſter multitude, in beleeuing his acceſſe hither onely to thee: but my good name, and honeſt repute, as yet vntoucht with the very leaſt taxation, will be rackt on the tenter of infamous iudgement, and (though neuer ſo cleare) branded with generall condemnation. It is wiſedome therefore, that we ſhould make no noiſe but (in ſilence) conſider with our ſelues, how to cleare the houſe of this dead body, by ſome ſuch helpfull and witty deuice, as when it ſhall bee found in the morning, his being heere may paſſe without ſuſpition, and the worlds raſh opinion no way touch vs.

Weeping and lamenting is now laid aſide, and all hope in them of his liues reſtoring: onely to rid his body out of the houſe, that now requires their care and cunning, whereupon the Maide thus beganne. Miſtreſſe (quoth ſhe) this euening, although it was very late, at our next Neighbours doore (who you know is a Ioyner by his trade) I ſaw a great Cheſt ſtand; and, as it ſeemeth, for a publike ſale, becauſe two or three nightes together, it hath not bene thence remooued: and if the owner haue not lockt it, all inuention elſe cannot furniſh vs with the like help. For therein will we lay his body, whereon I will beſtow two or three wounds with my Knife, and leauing him ſo, our houſe can be no more ſuſpected concerning his being heere, then any other in the ſtreete beſide; nay rather farre leſſe, in regard of your husbands credit and authority. Moreouer, heereof I am certaine, that he being of ſuch bad and diſordered qualities: it will the more likely be imagined, that he was ſlaine by ſome of his own looſe companions, being with them about ſome pilfering buſines, and afterward hid his body in the cheſt, it ſtanding ſo fitly for the purpoſe, and darke night alſo fauouring the deed.

The Maids counſell paſt vnder the ſeale of allowance, only her Miſtris thought it not conuenient, that (hauing affected him ſo deerely) ſhee ſhould mangle his body with any wounds; but rather to let it be gathered by more likely-hood, that villaines had ſtrangled him, and then conueied his body into the Cheſt. Away ſhe ſends the Maide, to ſee whether the Cheſt ſtood there ſtill, or no; as indeede it did, and vnlockt, wherof they were not a little ioyfull. By the helpe of her Miſtreſſe, the Maide tooke Ruggiero vpon her ſhoulders, and bringing him to the doore, with dillidilegent reſpect that no one could diſcouer them; in the Cheſt they laide him, and ſo there left him, cloſing downe the lidde according as they found it.

In the ſame ſtreet, and not farre from the Ioyner, dwelt two yong men who were Lombards, liuing vppon the intereſt of their moneyes, coueting to get much, and ſpend little. They hauing obſerued where the cheſt ſtood, and wanting a neceſſary mooueable to houſhold, yet loath to lay out mony for buying it: complotted together this very night, to ſteale it thence, and carry it home to their houſe, as accordingly they did; finding it ſomewhat heauy, and therefore imagining, that matter of woorth was contained therein. In the chamber where their wiues lay, they left it; and ſo without any further ſearch till the next morning, they laid them down to reſt likewiſe.

Ruggiero, who had now ſlept a long while, the drinke being digeſted, & the vertue thereof fully conſummated; began to awake before day. And although his naturall ſleep was broken, and his ſences had recouerd their former power, yet notwithſtanding, there remained ſuch an aſtoniſhment in his braine, as not onely did afflict him all the day following, but alſo diuers dayes and nights afterward. Hauing his eies wide open, & yet not diſcerning any thing, he ſtretched forth his armes euery where about him, and finding himſelfe to be encloſed in the cheſt, he grew more broad awake, and ſaid to himſelfe. What is this? Where am I? Do I wake or ſleepe? Full well I remember, that not long ſince I was in my ſweet-hearts Chamber, and now (me thinkes) I am mewed vp in a cheſt. What ſhold I thinke heereof? Is maſter Doctor returned home, or hathſome other inconuenience hapned, whereby finding me aſleepe, ſhe was enforced to hide me thus? Surely it is ſo, and otherwiſe it cannot bee: wherefore, it is beſt for mee to lye ſtill, and liſten when I can heare any talking in the Chamber.

Continuing thus a longer while then otherwiſe hee would haue done, becauſe his lying in the bare Cheſt was ſomwhat vneaſie and painfull to him; turning diuers times on the one ſide, and then as often again on the other, coueting ſtill for eaſe, yet could not find any: at length, he thruſt his backe ſo ſtrongly againſt the Cheſts ſide, that (it ſtanding on an vn-euen ground) it began to totter, and after fell downe. In which fall, it made ſo loud a noiſe, as the women (lying in the beds ſtanding by) awaked, and were ſo ouercome with feare, that they had not the power to ſpeake one word. Ruggiero alſo being affrighted with the Cheſts fall, and perceiuing how by that meanes it was become open: he thought it better, leaſt ſome other ſiniſter fortune ſhould befall him, to be at open liberty, then incloſed vp ſo ſtrictly. And becauſe he knew not where he was, as alſo hoping to meet with his Miſtreſſe; he went all about groping in the dark, to finde either ſome ſtaires or doore, whereby to get forth.

When the Women (being then awake) heard his trampling, as alſo his iuſtling againſt the doores and Windowes; they demaunded, Who was there? Ruggiero, not knowing their voyces, made them no anſwer, wherefore they called to their husbands, who lay verie ſoundly ſleeping by them, by reaſon of their ſo late walking abroad, and therefore heard not this noiſe in the houſe. This made the Women much more timorous, and therefore riſing out of their beddes, they opened the Caſements towards the ſtreete, crying out aloude, Theeues, Theeues. The neighbours aroſe vpon this outcry, running vp and downe from place to place, from engirting the houſe, and others entering into it: by means of which troubleſome noiſe, the two Lombards awaked, and ſeizing there vppon poore Ruggiero, (who was well-neere affrighted out of his wittes, at ſo ſtrange an accident, and his owne ignorance, how he happened thither, and how to eſcape from them) he ſtood gazing on them without any anſwer.

By this time, the Sergeants and other Officers of the City, ordinarily attending on the Magiſtrate, beeing raiſed by the tumult of this vproare, were come into the houſe, and had poore Ruggiero committed vnto their charge: who bringing him before the Gouernor, was forthwith called in queſtion, and known to be of a moſt wicked life, a ſhame to al his friends and kindred. He could ſay little for himſelfe, neuer denying his taking in the houſe, and therefore deſiring to finiſh all his fortunes together, deſperately confeſſed, that he came with a fellonious intent to rob them, and the Gouernor gaue him ſentence to be hanged.

Soone were the newes ſpread throughout Salerne; that Ruggiero was apprehended, about robbing the houſe of the two vſuring Lombardes: which when Miſtreſſe Doctor and her Chamber-maide heard, they were confounded with moſt ſtraunge admiration, and ſcarſely credited what they themſelues had done the night before, but rather imagined all matters paſt, to be no more then meerely a dreame, concerning Ruggieroes dying in the houſe, and their putting him into the Cheſt, ſo that by no likely or poſsible meanes, hee could bee the man in this perillous extreamitie.

In a ſhort while after, Maſter Doctor Mazzco was returned from Malfy, to proceede in his cure of the poore mans legge; and calling for his glaſſe of Water, which he left ſtanding in his owne Chamber window, it was found quite empty, and not a drop in it: whereat hee raged ſo extreamly, as neuer had the like impatience beene noted in him. His wife, and her Maide, who had another kinde of buſineſſe in their braine, about a dead man ſo ſtrangely come to life againe, knewe not well what to ſay; but at the laſt, his Wife thus replyed ſomewhat angerly. Sir (quoth ſhe) what a coyle is heere about a paltry glaſſe of Water, which perhaps hath bene ſpilt, yet neyther of vs faulty therein? Is there no more ſuch water to be had in the world? Alas deere Wife (ſaide hee) you might repute it to be a common kinde of Water, but indeede it was not ſo; for I did purpoſely compound it, onely to procure a dead-ſeeming ſleepe: And ſo related the whole matter at large, of the Pacients legge, and his Waters loſſe.

When ſhe had heard theſe words of her husband, preſently ſhe conceiued, that the water was drunke off by Ruggiero, which had ſo ſleepily entranced his ſences, as they verily thought him to bee dead, wherefore ſhe ſaide. Beleeue me Sir, you neuer acquainted vs with any ſuch matter, which would haue procured more carefull reſpect of it: but ſeeing it is gon, your skill extendeth to make more, for now there is no other remedy. While thus Maſter Doctor and his Wife were conferring together, the Maide went ſpeedily into the Citie, to vnderſtand truly, whither the condemned man was Ruggiero, and what would now become of him. Beeing returned home againe, and alone with her Miſtreſſe in the Chamber, thus ſhe ſpake. Now truſt me Miſtreſſe, not one in the Citie ſpeaketh well of Ruggiero, who is the man condemned to dye; and, for ought I can perceiue, he hath neither Kinſman nor Friend that wil doe any thing for him; but he is left with the Prouoſt, and muſt be executed to morrow morning. Moreouer Miſtreſſe, by ſuch inſtructions as I haue receiued, I can well-neere informe you, by what meanes hee came to the two Lombards houſe, if all be true that I haue heard.

You know the loyner before whoſe doore the Cheſt ſtoode, wherein we did put Ruggiero; there is now a contention betweene him and another man, to whom (it ſeemeth) the Cheſt doth belong; in regard wherof, they are readie to quarrell extremly each with other. For the one owing the Cheſt, and truſting the Ioyner to ſell it for him, would haue him to pay him for the Cheſt. The Ioyner denieth any ſale thereof, auouching, that the laſt night it was ſtolne from his doore. Which the other man contrarying, maintaineth that he ſolde the Cheſt to the two Lombard vſurers, as himſelf is able to affirme, becauſe he found it in the houſe, when he (being preſent at the apprehenſion of Ruggiero) ſawe it there in the ſame houſe. Heereupon, the Ioyner gaue him the lye, becauſe he neuer ſold it to any man; but if it were there, they had robd him of it, as hee would make it manifeſt to their faces. Then falling into calmer ſpeeches they went together to the Lombardes houſe, euen as I returned home. Wherefore Miſtreſſe, as you may eaſily perceiue, Ruggiero was (queſtionleſſe) carried thither in the cheſt, and ſo there found; but how he reuiued againe, I cannot comprehend.

The Miſtreſſe vnderſtanding now apparantly, the full effect of the whole buſineſſe, and in what manner it had bene carried, reuealed to the maide her husbands ſpeeches, concerning the glaſſe of ſleepie Water, which was the onely engine of all this trouble, clearly acquitting Ruggiero of the robbery, howſoeuer (in deſperate fury, and to make an end of a life ſo contemptible) he had wrongfully accuſed himſelfe. And notwithſtanding this his hard fortune, which hath made him much more infamous then before, in all the diſſolute behauiour of his life: yet it coulde not quaile her affection towards him; but being loath he ſhould dye for ſome other mans offence, and hoping his future reformation; ſhe fell on her knees before her miſtreſſe, and (drowned in her teares) moſt earneſtly entreated her, to aduiſe her with ſome ſuch happy courſe, as might bee the ſafety of poore Ruggieroes life. Miſtreſſe Doctor, affecting her maide dearely, and plainly perceiuing, that no diſaſtrous fortune whatſoeuer, could alter her loue to condemned Ruggiero; hoping the beſt heereafter, as the Maide her ſelfe did, and willing to ſaue life rather then ſuffer it to be loſt without iuſt cauſe, ſhe directed her in ſuch diſcreet maner, as you will better conceyue by the ſucceſſe.

According as ſhe was inſtructed by hir Miſtris, ſhee fell at the feete of Maſter Doctor, deſiring him to pardon a great error, whereby ſhee had ouer-much offended him. As how? ſaid Maſter Doctor. In this manner (quoth the Maid) and thus proceeded. You are not ignorant Sir, what a le • d liuer Ruggiero de Ieroly is, and notwithſtanding all his imperfections, how dearely I loue him, as hee proteſteth the like to me, and thus hath our loue continued a yeare, and more. You beeing gone to Malfy, and your abſe •• granting me apt opportunity, for conference with ſo kinde a friend; I made the bolder, and gaue him entrance into your houſe, yea euen into mine owne Chamber, yet free from any abuſe, neyther did hee (bad though he be) offer any. Thirſty he was before his coming thether, either by ſalt meats, or diſtempered diet, and I being vnable to fetch him wine or water, by reaſon my Miſtreſſe ſate in the Hall, ſeriouſlie talking with her Siſters; remembred, that I ſaw a viall of Water ſtanding in your Chamber Windowe, which hee drinking quite off, I ſet it emptie in the place againe. I haue heard your diſcontentment for the ſaid Water, and confeſſe my fault to you therein: but who liueth ſo iuſtly, without offending at one time or other? And I am heartily ſory for my tranſgreſſion; yet not ſo much for the water, as the hard fortune that hath followd theron; becauſe thereby Ruggiero is in danger to loſe his life, and all my hopes are vtterly loſt. Let me entreat you therefore (gentle Maſter) firſt to pardon me, and then to grant me permiſſion, to ſuccour my poore condemned friend, by all the beſt meanes I can deuiſe.

When the Doctor had heard all her diſcourſe, angry though he were, yet thus he anſwered with a ſmile. Much better had it bin, if thy follies puniſhment had falne on thy ſelfe, that it might haue paide thee with deſerued repentance, vpon thy Miſtreſſes finding thee ſleeping. But go and get his deliuerance if thou canſt, with this caution, that if euer heereafter he be ſeene in my houſe, the peril thereof ſhall light on thy ſelfe. Receyuing this anſwer, for her firſt entrance into the attempt, and as her Miſtris had aduiſed her, in all haſt ſhee went to the priſon, where ſhee preuailed ſo well with the Iaylor, that hee granted her priuate conference with Ruggiero. She hauing inſtructed him what he ſhould ſay to the Prouoſt, if he had any purpoſe to eſcape with life; went thither before him to the Prouoſt, who admitting her into his preſence, and knowing that ſhee was Maſter Doctors maid, a man eſpecially reſpected of all the Citie, he was the more willing to heare her meſſage, he imagining that ſhee was ſent by her Maſter.

Sir (quoth ſhee) you haue apprehended Ruggiero de Ieroly, as a theefe, and iudgement of death is (as I heare) pronounced againſt him: but hee is wrongfully accuſed, and is clearly innocent of ſuch a heinous detection. So entering into the Hiſtory, ſhe declared euery circumſtance, from the originall to the end: relating truly, that being her Louer, ſhee brought him into her Maſters houſe, where he dranke the compounded ſleepy water, and reputed for dead, ſhe laide him in the Cheſt. Afterward, ſhe rehearſed the ſpeeches betweene the Ioyner, and him that laide claime to the Cheſt, giuing him to vnderſtand thereby, how Ruggiero was taken in the Lombards houſe.

The Prouoſt preſently gathering, that the truth in this caſe was eaſy to be knowne; ſent firſt for Maſter Doctor Mazzeo, to know, whether hee compounded any ſuch water, or no: which he affirmed to bee true, and vpon what occaſion he prepared it. Then the Ioyner, the owner of the Cheſt, and the two Lombards, being ſeuerally queſtioned withall: it appeared euidently, that the Lombards did ſteale the cheſt in 〈◊〉 night ſeaſon, and carried it home to their owne houſe. In the end, Ruggiero being brought from the priſon, and demanded, where hee was lodged the night before, made anſwer, that he knew not where. Only he well remembred, that bearing affection to the Chamber-maide of Maſter Doctor Mazzea della Montagna, ſhe brought him into a Chamber, where a violl of water ſtoode in the Window, and he being extreamly thirſty, dranke it off all. But what became of him afterward (till being awake, hee found himſelfe encloſed in a Cheſt, and in the houſe of the two Lombards) he could not ſay any thing.

When the Prouoſt had heard all their anſwers, which he cauſed them to repeate ouer diuers times, in regard they were very pleaſing to him: he cleared Ruggiero from the crime impoſed on him, and condemned the Lombards in three hundred Ducates, to bee giuen to Ruggiero in way of an amends, and to enable his marriage with the Doctors Mayde, whoſe conſtancie was much commended, and wrought ſuch a miracle on penitent Ruggiero; that, after his marriage, which was graced with great and honourable pompe, he regained the intimate loue of all his kindred, and liued in moſt Noble condition, euen as if he had neuer beene the diſordered man.

If the former Nouels had made all the Ladies ſad and ſighe, this laſt of Dioneus as much delighted them, as reſtoring them to their former iocond humor, and baniſhing Tragicall diſcourſe for euer. The King perceyuing that the Sun was neere ſetting, and his gouernment as neere ending, with many kinde and courteous ſpeeches, excuſed himſelfe to the Ladies, for being the motiue of ſuch an argument, as expreſſed the infelicity of poore Louers. And hauing finiſhed his excuſe, vp he aroſe, taking the Crowne of Lawrell from off his owne head, the Ladies awaiting on whoſe head he pleaſed next to ſet it, which proued to be the gracious Lady Fiammetta, and thus hee ſpake. Heere I place this Crowne on her head, that knoweth better then any other, how to comfort this fayre aſſembly to morrow, for the ſorow which they haue this day endured.

Madame Fiammetta, whoſe lockes of haire were curled, long, and like golden wiers, hanging ſomwhat downe ouer her white & delicate ſhoulders her viſage round, wherein the Damaske Roſe and Lilly contende • for priority, the eyes in her head, reſembling thoſe of the Faulcon me, ſenger, and a dainty mouth; her lippes looking like two little Rubyes with a commendable ſmile thus ſhe replyed.

Philostratus, gladly I do accept your gift; and to the end that ye may the better remember your ſelfe, concerning what you haue done hitherto: I will and commaund, that generall preparation bee made againſt to morrow, for faire and happy fortunes hapning to Louers, after former cruell and vnkinde accidents. Which propoſition was very pleaſing to them all.

Then calling for the Maſter of the Houſholde, and taking order with him, what was moſt needfull to be done; ſhee gaue leaue vnto the whole company (who were all riſen) to go recreate themſelues vntil ſupper time. Some of them walked about the Garden, the beauty whereof baniſhed the leaſt thought of wearineſſe. Others walked by the Riuer to the Mill, which was not farre off, and the reſt fel to exerciſes, fitting their own fancies, vntill they heard the ſummons for Supper. Hard by the goodly Fountaine (according to their wonted manner) they ſupped altogether, and were ſerued to their no mean contentment: but being riſen from the Table, they fell to their delight of ſinging and dancing. While Philomena led the dance, the Queene ſpake in this manner.

Philostratus, I intend not to varie from thoſe courſes heeretofore obſerued by my predeceſſors, but euen as they haue already done, ſo it is my authority, to command a Song. And becauſe I am well aſſured, that you are not vnfurniſhed of Songs anſwerable to the quality of the paſſed Nouels: my deſire is, in regard we would not be troubled heereafter, with any more diſcourſes of vnfortunate Loue, that you ſhall ſing a Song agreeing with your owne diſpoſition. Philostratus made anſwer, that he was readie to accompliſh her command, and without all further ceremony, thus he began.

The words contained in this Song, did manifeſtly declare, what torturing afflictions poore Philoſtratus felt, and more (perhaps) had beene perceiued by the lookes of the Lady whom he ſpake of, being then preſent in the dance; if the ſodaine enſuing darkneſſe had not hid the crimſon bluſh, which mounted vp into her face. But the Song being ended, & diuers other beſide, laſting till the houre of reſt drew on; by command of the Queene, they all repaired to their Chambers.