Selected quad for the lemma: love_n

Word A Word B Word C Word D Occurrence Frequency Band MI MI Band Prominent
love_n body_n heart_n soul_n 4,786 5 4.6656 4 true
View all documents for the selected quad

Text snippets containing the quad

ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
A08840 The second tome of the Palace of pleasure conteyning store of goodly histories, tragicall matters, and other morall argument, very requisite for delighte and profit. Chosen and selected out of diuers good and commendable authors: by William Painter, clerke of the ordinance and armarie. Anno. 1567.; Palace of pleasure. Vol. 2 Painter, William, 1540?-1594. 1567 (1567) STC 19124; ESTC S110236 560,603 890

There are 14 snippets containing the selected quad. | View lemmatised text

miserable Duchesse But hearken now the most sorowfull scene of all that tragedie The litle children which had séene all the furious game done vpon their mother and hir maide as nature prouoked thē or as some presage of their mishap led them therunto kneled vpon their knées before those tyrants and embracing their legs wailed in such wise as I think that any other except a pitilesse heart spoiled of all humanitie wold haue had cōpassion And impossible it was for them to vnfold the embracemēts of those innocent creatures which séemed to forethink their death by the wilde lokes and countenāce of those roisters Wherby I think that néedes it must be cōfessed that nature hath in hir self and vpon vs imprinted some signe of diuination and specially at the hour and time of death in such wise as that very beasts féele some cōceits although they sée neither sword nor staffe and indeuor to auoyde the cruell passage of a thing so fearful as the separation of two things so néerely vnited euen the body and soule which for the motion that chaūceth at the very instant she weth how nature is constrained in that monstruous separation more than horrible ouerthrow But who can appease a heart determined to do euil hath sworn the death of another forced the runto by some special cōmaundement The Aragon brethrē ment hereby nothing else but to roote out that whole name race of Bologna And therfore the two ministers of iniquitie did like murder slaughter vpon those two tender babes as they committed vpon their mother not without some motion of horror for doing of an act so detestable Behold here how far the crueltie of man extēdeth whē it coueteth nothing else but vengeance and marke what excessiue choler the minde of thē produceth which suffer themselues to be forced ouerwhelmed with furie Leaue we apart the crueltie of Euchrates the sonne of the king of Bactria of Phraates the sōne of the Persian Prince of Timon of Athens of an infinite nūbre of those which were rulers and gouerners of the Empire of Rome and let vs match with these Aragon brethrē one Vitoldus Duke of Litudnia the crueltie of whom constrained his own subiects to hang thēselues for fear least they shold fall into his furious bloudy hands We may confesse also these brutal brethrē to be more butcherly thā euer Otho erle of Monferrato prince of Vrbin was who caused a yeoman of his chamber to be wrapped in a shéete poudred with sulpher brimstō afterwards kindled with a candle was scalded cōsumed to death bicause only he waked not at an hour by him apointed Let vs not excuse them also frō some affinity with Maufredus the sonne of Henry that second Emperor who smoldered his own father being an old mā betwene y. couerleds These former furies might haue some excuse to couer their crueltie but these had no other cause but a certain beastly madnesse which moued thē to kil those litle childrē their neuews who by no meanes could preiudice or anoy the duke of Malfi or his title in the successiō of his Duchie the mother hauing wtdrawn hir goods was assigned hir dowry but a wicked hart must néedes bring forth semblable works according to his malice In the time of these murders the infortunate 〈◊〉 kept himself at Millan wyth his sonne Federick and vowed himself to that Lord Siluio Sauello who that time belieged the Castell of Millan in the behalf of Maximilian Sforcia which in the end he conquered and recouered by composition with the French within But that charge being archieued the generall Sauello marched from thence to Cremona with his campe whither Bologna durst not folow but repaired to the Marquize of Bitonte in which time that Aragon brethren so wrought as his goods were confiscate at Naples and he driuē to his shifts to vse the golden Duckates which the Duchesse gaue him to relieue him self at Millan whose Death althoughe it was aduertised by many yet hée coulde not be persuaded to beleue the same for that diuers which went about to betray him and feared he should flie from Millan kept his beake in the water as the Prouerbe is and assured him both of the life welfare of his spouse and that shortly his brethren in law wold be reconciled bicause that many Noble mē fauored him well and desired his returne home to his Countrey Fed and filled with that vaine hope he remained more than a yeare at Millan frequenting the companie and well entertained of the richest Marchants and Gentlemen of the Citie and aboue all other he had familiar accesse to the house of the Ladie Hippolita Bentiuoglia where vpon a day after dinner taking his Lute in hand wheron he could exceedingly wel play he began to sing a certain Sonnet which he had composed vpon the discourse of his misfortune the tenor whereof is this The song of Antonio Bologna the husband of the Duchesse of Malfi If loue the death or tract of time haue measured my distresse Or if my beating sorrowes may my languor well expresse Then loue come sone to visit me which most my heart desires And so my dolor findes some ease through flames of fansies fires The time runnes out his rolling course for to prolong mine ease To th end I shall enioy my loue and heart himself appease A cruell Darte brings happy death my soule then rest shall finde And sleping body vnder tombe shall dreame time out of minde And yet the Loue the time nor Death lokes not how I decrease Nor giueth eare to any thing of this my wofull peace Full farre I am from my good happe or halfe the ioy I craue wherby I 〈◊〉 my state with teares draw full nere my graue The courteous Gods that giues me life nowe moues the Planets all For to arrest my groning ghost and hence my sprite to call Yet from them still I am separd by things vnequall here Not mēt the Gods may be vniust that bredes my chāging chere For they prouide by their foresight that none shall doe me harme But she whose blasing beuty bright hath brought me in a charm My mistresse hath the powre alone to rid me from this woe whose thrall I am for whome I die to whome my sprite shall goe Away my soule go from the griefs that thee oppresseth still And let thy dolor witnesse beare how much I want my will For since that loue and death himself delights in guiltlesse bloud Let time trāsport my troubled sprite where destny semeth good His song ended the poore Gentleman could not forbeare frō pouring forth his luke warme teares which aboundantly ran downe his heauie face and his panting sighes truely discouered that alteration of his mind which moued eche wight of that assembly to pitie his mournefull state and one specially of small acquaintaunce and yet knew the deuises which the Aragon brethren had trained and conspired against him that vnacquainted Gentleman
Curtius that notable historiographer remembring the stoute facte of this Thebane gentlewoman amongs other the gestes and factes of Alexander the great I haue déemed it not altogether vnfit for this place to reueale the fine and notable pollicie deuised by hir to rid hir selfe from a couetous 〈◊〉 of the Thracian kinde who for lucre rather than loue for gaine than gratitude promised golden hilles to this distressed poore gentlewoman But she in the ende paying him his well deserued hire was liked and praised of Alexander for hir aduēturous fact being not one of the least vertues that shined in him before he grewe to excessiue abuse But bicause Plutarch in his treatise De claris mulieribus more at large recounteth this historie I haue thought good almost verbatim to follow him Theagenes a gentleman of Thebes 〈◊〉 himself with Epaminondas and Pelopidas and with other noble men for preseruation of their common wealth in the battaile sought at Cheronaea for deliuerie of their 〈◊〉 of Greece was slain in the chace of his enimies as he pursued one of the chiefe of his aduersaries that same crying out vnto him Whether 〈◊〉 thou pursue vs Theagenes euen to Macedonia answered he This gentleman thus slaine had a sister whose vertue néerenesse of kin by noble déedes she well witnessed although she was not well able to manifest hir vertue for the aduersitie of the time but by pacient sufferance of the cōmon calamities For after Alexander had wonne the citie of Thebes the souldiers gréedie of spoile running vp and down the citie euery of them chancing vpon such bootie as fortune offred them it chaunced that a captain of the Thracian horsmen a barbarous and wicked wretch happened vpon the house of Timoclia who somewhat néere the King both in name and kinne in maners and conditions was greatly different from him He neither regarding the noble house ne yet the chastitie of hir forepassed life vpon a time after supper glutted swelled with abundance of wine caused Timoclia forcibly to be haled to his dronken couch and not cōtented with the forced wrong as they were in talke together diligently demaunded of hir if she had in no place hidden any gold or siluer and partly by threates and partely by promise to kepe hir as his wife endeuoured to get that he desired But she being of redy witte taking that offred occasion of hir aduersarie I would to God sayd she that it had bene my luck to haue died before this night rather than to liue For hitherto haue I kept my 〈◊〉 pure and vntouched from all despite and villanie vntill vnluckie fate forced me to yeld to thy disordinate lust but 〈◊〉 my 〈◊〉 is such why should I conceale those thyngs that be 〈◊〉 owne thou being mine only tutor lorde and husband as thou sayst when the Gods shal please to bring the same to passe For by thy will and pleasure muste I vnhappie Thebane wench be ruled and gouerned Eche vanquished wight must subdue their will and minde to their lord 〈◊〉 I being thy slaue and prisoner must nedes by humble meanes yelde vp my selfe to the vnsaciate hest of thy puissant heart What shall let me to disclose the pray that thou desirest that we both if thy mind be such may rather ioy the same than the soilie filth of stinking earth shoulde deuoure such spoile which for feare and hope of future fortune I buried in the bowels of the same Then marke my wordes and beare them well in mynde sith lot hath wrought me this mishap I hauing plentie of coyned siluer and of fyned gold no litle store besides such Iewels as belong to the setting forth of the grace of womans beautie of valure and price 〈◊〉 when I saw this City brought to such distresse as vnpossible to be saued frō taking al the same I threw away or more truly to say I whelmed altogether in a dry ditch void of water which my fact fewe or none did knowe The pitte is couered with a litle couer aboue and thickly round about beset with bushes and thornes Those goodes will make thée a welthy personage none in all the campe to bée compared to thée the riches and value wherof will witnesse our former fortune and the state of our gorgeous and stately house All those doe I bequeath to thée as on whome I thinke them wel bestowed This gréedie Lecher laughing to him self for this sodaine praie and thinking that his Ladie faste holden within his barbarous armes had tolde him truth routed in his 〈◊〉 couch till the day had discouered that morning light then gaping for his 〈◊〉 gaine he rose prayed hir to tell the place that he might recouer the same She then brought him into hir garden the dore whereof she commaunded to be shutte that none might enter He in his hose and doublet went downe to the bottome of the pit When Timoclia perceiued him downe she beckned for certain of hir maids she rolled downe diuers great stones with hir own hāds which of purpose she had caused to be placed there and commaunded hir maides to tumble downe the like By which meanes she killed that lecherous and couetous vilaine that rather 〈◊〉 to satisfie his desire than coueted to obserue his promysed faith Which afterwardes being knowen to the Macedonians they haled his bodie out of the pit For Alexander had made proclamation that none should dare to kill any Thebane and therfore apprehēding Timoclia they brought hir to that king accusing hir for doing of that murder who by hir countenaunce and stature of bodie and by hir behauiour and grauitie of maners beheld in hir the verie Image of gentle kinde And first of al he asked hir what she was To whom boldly with constāt chéere she 〈◊〉 answered Theagenes was my brother sayd she who béeing a valiant captaine fighting against you for the common safegard of the Greekes was 〈◊〉 at Chaeronea that we might not 〈◊〉 and proue that miseries wherwith we be now oppressed But I rather than to suffer violence vnworthie of oure race stock am in your 〈◊〉 presence brought ready to refuse no death For better it were for me to die than féele such another night except thou commaūde the contrary These wordes were vttered in such 〈◊〉 plight as the standers by coulde not forbeare to wéepe But Alexander saying that he not onely pitied the woman endewed with so noble witte but much more wondred at hir vertue and wisedome commaūded the princes of his armie to foresée no wrong or violence to be done to the Gentlewoman He gaue order also that Timoclia all hir kinne should be garded and defended from slaughter or other wrōgs What say ye good Ladies to the heart of this noble Gentlewomā that durst be so bold to stone this 〈◊〉 wretch to death for wrong done to hir bodie till that time vntouched to wrong the corps of him that sauoured of no gentle kinde who rather for earthly 〈◊〉 than for loue
my being with child I were vndone my life at an end and peraduenture poore wench thou shouldest beare the penaūce for my sinne But what way can I take that stil these cādles may not giue light and I may be voided of the traine which ought to wayt vpon my brethren I thinke if I should descend into Hel they would know whither any shadowe there were in loue with me Now gesse if I should trauaile the Realme or retire to any other place whither they wold leaue me at peace Nothing lesse sith they would sodainly suspect that the cause of my departure procéeded of desire to liue at libertie to dallie wyth him whome they suspect to be other than my lawfull husbande And it may be as they be wicked and suspicious and will doubt of my greatnesse so shall I be farre more infortunate by trauailyng than here in miserie amidde myne anguishe and you the rest that be kéepers of my Councell shall fal into greater daunger vpon whome no doubt they wil be reuenged and flesh themselues for your vnhappy waiting and attendance vpon vs. Madame said the bolde maiden be not afraide and follow mine aduise For I hope that it shall be the meanes both to sée your spouse to rid those troublesome verlets out of your house in like manner safely to deliuer you into good assuraunce Say your minde sayd the Ladie for it may be that I will gouerne my self according to the same Mine aduise is then sayd that Gentlewoman to let your houshold vnderstand that you haue made a vow to visite the holy Temple of our Lady of Loretto a famous place of Pilgrimage in Italie and that you commaund your traine to make themselues ready to waite vpon you for accōplishment of your deuotion from thence you shall take your iourney to soiorne at Ancona whither before you depart you shall send your moueables and plate with such money as you shall think necessarie And afterwardes God will performe the rest and through his holy mercy will guide direct all your affaires The Duchesse hearing the maydē speake those woords and amazed of hir sodaine inuention could not forbeare to embrace and kisse hir blessing the houre wherin she was borne and that euer she chaunced into hir companie to whome afterwardes she sayd My wēch I had well determined to giue ouer mine estate and noble porte ioyfully to liue like a simple Gentlewoman with my deare and welbeloued husband but I could not deuise how I should conueniently departe this Countrey wythout suspition of some follie and sith that thou hast so well instructed me for bringing that same to passe I promise thée that so diligently thy coūcel shal be performed as I sée the same to be right good and necessarie For rather had I sée my husband being alone without title of Duchesse or great Lady than to liue without him beautified with the graces and foolish names of honor and preheminence This deuised 〈◊〉 was no soner groūded but she gaue such order for execution of the same brought it to passe wyth such 〈◊〉 as that Ladie in lesse than viij dayes had conueyed and sent the most part of hir moueables and specially the chiefest and best to Ancona taking in that meane time hir way towards Loretto after she had bruted hir solempne vow made for that Pilgrimage It was not sufficiēt for this foolish woman to take a husband more to glut hir libidinous appetite than for other occasion except she added to hir sinne an other execrable impietie making holy places and dueties of deuotion to be as it were the ministers of hir follie But let vs consider the force of Louers rage which so soone as it hath seased vpon the minds of men we sée how maruelious be the effects thereof and with what straint and puissaunce that madnesse subdueth the wise and strongest worldlings Who wold think that a great Ladie wold haue abandoned hir estate hir goods and childe would haue misprised hir honor and reputation to folow like a vagabond a pore and simple Gentleman and him bisides that was the houshold seruaunt of hir Court And yet you sée this great and mightie Duchesse trot run after the male like a female Wolfe or Lionesse whē they goe to sault and forget the Noble bloud of Aragon wherof she was descēded to couple hir self almost with the simplest person of all the trimmest Gentlemen of Naples But turne we not the example of follies to be a matter of cōsequence for if one or two become bankrupt of their honor it foloweth not good Ladies that their facte should serue for a matche to your deserts much lesse a patron for you to folow These Histories be not written to train and trap you to pursue the thousand thousand slippery sleightes of Loues gallantise but rather carefully to warn you to behold the semblable faultes and to serue for a drugge to discharge the poyson which gnaweth and fretteth the integritie and soūdnesse of the soule The wise skilfull Apothecary or compositor of drugges dresseth Uipers flesh to purge the patient from hote corrupted bloude which conceiueth and engendreth Leprosie within his body In like manner the fonde loue wicked ribauldrie of Semiramis Pasiphae 〈◊〉 Faustina and Romida is shewed in wryt that euery of you should feare to be numbred and recorded amōgs such common and dishonorable women You Princes and great Lordes read the follies of Paris the adulteries of Hercules the daintie and effeminate life of Sardanapalus the tirannie of Phalaris Busiris or Dionysius of Scicile and sée the History of Tiberius Nero Caligula Domitian and Heliogabalus spare not to numbre them amongs our 〈◊〉 youthes which soile thēselues with such villanies more filthily than the swine do in the durt Al this intendeth it an instruction for your youth to follow the infection and whoredome of those 〈◊〉 Better it were all those bokes were drēched in bottōlesse depth of seas than christiā life by their meanes shold be corrupted but the exāple of that wicked is induced for to eschue auoid them as that life of the good honest is remēbred to frame addresse our behauior in this world to be praise worthy cōmēded Otherwise the holinesse of sacred 〈◊〉 shold 〈◊〉 for an argument to the vnthrifty luxurious to confirm approue their heastly licencious wickednesse Come we again thē to our purpose the good Pilgrime of Loretto went forth hir voyage to atchieue hir deuotions to visite the Saint for whose Reliques she was departed that Countrey of that Duke hir sonne When she had done hir suffrages at 〈◊〉 hir people thought that the voyage was at an end that she wold haue returned again into hir Countrey But she said vnto them that sith she was so néere 〈◊〉 being but. xv miles off she would not returne before she had séen that auncient goodly city which diuers Histories do greatly recōmend as wel for the
giue To louing man that here on earth doth liue This great good turne which I on hir pretende Of my conceites the full desired ende Proceedes from thee O cruell mystres mine Whose froward heart hath made me to resigne The full effect of all my libertie To please and ease thy fonde fickle fansie My vse of speach in silence to remaine To euery wight a double hellish paine Whose faith hadst thou not wickedly abusde No stresse of paine for thee had bene refusde Who was to thee a trustie seruaunt sure And for thy sake all daungers would endure For which thou hast defaced thy good name And there vnto procurde eternall shame I That roaring tempest huge which thou hast made me felt The raging stormes whereof well nere my heart hath swelt By painefull pangs whose waltering waues by troubled skies And thousand blastes of winde that in those seas do rise Do promise shipwracke sure of that thy sayling Barke When after weather cleare doth rise some tempest darke For eyther I or thou which art of Tygres kinde In that great raging gulfe some daunger sure shalt finde Of that thy nature rude the dest'nies en'mies be And thy great ouerthrow full well they do foresee The heauens vnto my estate no doubt great friendship shoe And do seeke wayes to ende and finish all my woe This penance which I beare by yelding to thy hest Great store of ioyes shall heape and bring my minde to rest And when I am at ease amids my pleasaunt happes Then shall I see thee fall and suarlde in Fortunes trapes Then shall I see thee banne and cursse the wicked time Wherin thou madest me gulpe such draught of poysoned wine By which thy mortall cuppe I am the offred wight A vowed sacrifice to that thy cruell spight Wherefore my hoping heart doth hope to see the daie That thou for silence nowe to me shalt be the praie I O blessed God most iust whose worthy laude and praise With vttered speach in Skies aloft I dare not once to raise And may not wel pronoūce speak what suffrance I sustain Ne yet what death I do indure whiles I in life remaine Take vengeance on that traitresse rude afflict hir corps with woe Thy holy arme redresse hir fault that she no more do soe My reason hath not so farre strayed but I may hope and trust To see hir for hir wickednesse be whipt with plague most iust In the meane while great hauinesse my sense and soule doth bite And shaking feuer vexe my corps for grief of hir despite My mynde now set at libertie from thee O cruell dame Doth giue defiance to thy wrath and to thy cursed name Proclamyng mortall warre on thee vntill my tongue vntide Shall ioy to speake to Zilia fast wepyng by my side The heuēs forbid that causelesse wrōg abrode shold make his vaūt Or that an vndeserued death forget full tombe shoulde haunt But that in written boke and verse their names should euer liue And eke their wicked dedes should die and vertues still reuine So shall the pride and glorie both of hir be punisht right By length of yeares and tract of time And I by vertues might Full recompense therby shall haue and stande still in good fame And she like caitife wretche shall liue to hir long lasting shame Whose fond regarde of beauties grace contemned hath the force Of my true loue full fixt in hir hir heart voide of remorse Esteemed it selfe right foolishely and me abused still Vsurping my good honest faith and credite at hir will Whose loyall faith doth rest in soule and therin still shall bide Vntill in filthie stincking graue the earth my corps shall hide Then shal that soule fraught with that faith to heuēs make his 〈◊〉 And rest amōg the heuenly rout bedeckt with sacred aire paire And thou for thy great crueltie as God aboue doth know With rufull voice shalt weepe and waile for thy great ouerthrow And when thou wouldest fain purge thy self for that thy wretched No kindnesse shal to thee be done extreme shal be thy mede dede And where my tongue doth want his will thy mischief to display My hande and penne supplies the place and shall do so alway For so thou hast constrainde the same by force of thy behest In silence still my tong to kepe t' accomplishe thy request Adieu farewell my tormenter thy friend that is full mute Doth bid thee farewell once againe and so he ends his sute He that liueth only to be reuenged of thy cruelty Philiberto of Virle Zilia like a disdainfull woman made but a iest at the letters and complaints of the infortunat louer saying that she was very well content with his seruice And that when he should performe the time of his probatiou she should sée if he were worthy to be admitted into the felowship of them which had made sufficient proofe of the order and rule of loue In the meane time Philiberto rode by great iourneys as we haue sayd before towards the goodly and pleasant Countrey of Fraunce wherein Charles the seuenth that time did raigne who miraculously but giue the French man leaue to flatter speake vvel of his ovvne Countrey according to the flattering and vaunting nature of that Nation chased the English men out of his lands and auncient Patrimonie in the yeare of our Lord. 1451. This king had his campe then warfaring in Gascoine whose lucke was so fortunate as he expeld his enimies and left no place for thē to fortifie in the sayd Countrey which incouraged the king to folow that good occasion and by prosecuting his victorious fortune to profligat out of Normandie to dispatch himself of that enimy into whose handes and seruitude the Coūtrey of Guiene was rightly deliuered and victoriously wonne and gottē by the Englishmen The king then being in his Campe in Normandie the Piedmont Gentleman the Lord of Virle aforesayd repaired thereunto to serue him in his person where hée was well knowne of some Captaines which had séene him at other times and in place where worthy Gentlemen are wont to frequent and in the Duke of Sauoyes court which the Frenchmen did very much 〈◊〉 bicause the Earle of Piedmont that then was Duke of Sauoy had maried Iolanta the second daughter of Charles the seuenth These Gentlemen of Fraunce were very much sory for the misfortune of the Lord of Virle and knowing him to be one of the brauest and lustiest men of armes that was in his time within the Country of Piedmont presented him before the King commending vnto his grace the vertue gentlenesse and valianee of the man of warre Who after he had done his 〈◊〉 according to his duetie which he knew ful well to doe declared vnto him by signs that he was come for none other intent but in those warres to serue his maiesty whom the king heard and thākfully receiued assuring himself and promising very much of the 〈◊〉 Gitlemā for respect of his personage which was comely
other to honour and loue 〈◊〉 for euer But we haue digressed too long from oure Historie and therfore retourning to the same againe I say that 〈◊〉 the guide of master Philippo was fully determined to bestow hir fauor vpon hym For besides that the Quéene 〈◊〉 estéemed his loue it séemed that all thyngs were vnited and agréed to sort his enterprise to happy successe The Quéene 〈◊〉 to 〈◊〉 Gouernesse 〈◊〉 Paola 〈◊〉 Caualli a 〈◊〉 of Verona verie 〈◊〉 graue aduāced to that calling by Madonna Bianca Maria Sforza the wife of the Emperour Maximilian whome 〈◊〉 Anne required 〈◊〉 to procure for hir such 〈◊〉 in the Thoscane language and other Italian workes as were to be founde bicause hir disposition was to be 〈◊〉 and familiar in that tongue and employed great diligence to learne and exercise the same wherein she attained such 〈◊〉 as all Italians coulde very well vnderstande hir Now as the good lucke of master Philippo would haue it he that day went to the Courte alone continually 〈◊〉 if it were possible at all times to be in presence of the 〈◊〉 Whome so soone as Madonna Paola espied bicause she familiarly knew hym she went vnto him and sayd My welbeloued friend master Philippo bicause the 〈◊〉 hath great delight to lerne our tongue and therein alreadie hath 〈◊〉 good towardnesse as by hir common speakyng of the same you may perceyue this mornyng at 〈◊〉 vprising shée gaue mé a great charge to procure for hir certaine Italian Rithmes who besides those bookes in that tongue alreadie printed gladly desireth to sée some trymme deuises of dyuerse learned 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 that make in oure time specially 〈◊〉 minde is earnestly disposed vpon rithmes cunningly 〈◊〉 wherof I thinke you haue some store by reason of your delight in that exercise Wherefore I thought to repaire vnto you and doe heartily pray you to make 〈◊〉 Maiestie partaker ofsuch as you haue wherein you shall do hir great and gratefull seruice and I shal remain 〈◊〉 bound vnto you besides that I do purpose when I present them vnto hir to make hir priuie that I receiued them at your handes which bicause of the loue shée 〈◊〉 to our nation she wil fauourably accept and the same no doubte when oportunitie serueth liberally rewarde Master Philippo in 〈◊〉 wise thanked the gentlewomā and sayd that he was sorie he was not able better to satisfie hir request bicause in that 〈◊〉 he had small store of such desired things neuerthelesse he would make diligent search to get so many as were possible to be founde either amongs the Gentlemen that folowed the Court or else where they were to be gotten In the meane time he sayd that he woulde deliuer those few he had and wold bring them vnto hir that night And praying hir to commende him to the good grace and fauour of hir maiestie he toke his leaue and wente straight to his lodging where diligently he began to searche among his writings the gladdest man in the worlde for that occasion offered and founde amongs the same diuers rithmes which he thought vnworthie to passe into the handes of so great a Lady sauing the thirde Rithme or Chapter as we commonly call it made by a notable Doctor of the lawes and excellente Poet called M. Niccolo Amanio of Crema who no doubt for making of vulgar rithmes therby expressing the amorous affections of Louers was in our time without comparison And bicause the same was so apt for that purpose of master Philippo his loue as could be desired he wrote the same faire being in dede a very faire writer in a shéete of paper which soundeth to this 〈◊〉 Quanto piu cresce Amor l'aspro tormento c. The more O Loue thy bitter pangs augment Melting by times my sad accensed spreete The more to burne I feele my selfe content And though eche day a thousande times I fleete Tvvixt hope and dreade all dolour yet and smart My glorious proofe of enterprise makes svveete The fire so high vvhich kindled hath myne hart As by loues flames none euer had I knovv So loftie source of heate in any part Svveete then my torments are svvete is my vvoe Svvete eke of loue the light svvete the conceyte From so high beames fallen in my breast groe Such povver of porte such maiestie most gret I tremble to beholde and do confesse My lotte to base so vvorthy a blisse to get But Will herein my Reason doth suppresse And those faire eyes vvhere loue hym selfe nie lies Armed vvith lookes of ioy and gentlenesse Lokes that vpliftes my soule aboue the Skies And in each coast all cloudes expelling cleane Do teache ten thousande pathes to Paradise My Goddesse braue Angclicall Sirene Fairenesse it selfe Dame Beauties sacred heire What mountes of ioy may match my happy peyne Whose scaling hope hovv so ensue dispeire Leues vaūt of thoughts vvhich once so highly flevv As honour all that earth besides doth beare Comparde to this but baggage vvere to vevv When Master Philippo had written out these verses immediatly he returned to the court and caused Madonna Paola to be called vnto him by one of the Gromes of the Chamber to whome he sayde Mistresse Paola I haue brought you a ditie that is very trim prety which I pray you deliuer to the 〈◊〉 and I will do what I can to get other Mistresse Paola tooke them and wente into the chamber and finding the 〈◊〉 alone sayd vnto hir Madame this mornyng ye commaunded me to get you some Italian Rithmes and vpon inquirie I haue receiued these 〈◊〉 verses of maister Philippo secretarie to the Lord Andrea Borgo who hath promised to bring me other The 〈◊〉 hearing hir speake those wordes smiling receiued the paper and read the same the sense wherof she liked very wel thinking that master Philippo had bene the compositor of the same and that of purpose he had made them for hir whereby shée was oute of doubt that it was she that master Philippo so feruently loued and the better hir opinion was confirmed bicause some of the wordes tended to the state of hir personage And considering the valor of his minde she blamed Nature for that in a mā so basely borne she had sowen séede that brought forth such a Gētlemanlike and noble hart greatly to hir selfe praising the yong man Then she conferred the whole matter with hir cousin 〈◊〉 Marie which was a wise and comely Ladie and vpon that loue they vsed many discourses more and more esteming the yong gentleman 〈◊〉 Anne determined when conueniently shée might to rendre to maister Philippo for his great loue condigne rewarde and studying still howe to requite his curtesie euer when she saw master Philippo she vsed him with hir wonted chere grateful salutation which thing only euery honest gētlemā ought to 〈◊〉 that is indued with reason at that hands of a princesse so noble worthy as a rewarde sufficient that inequalitie of the parties considered Wherof master Philippo
vpon the Lute desired him to giue awake vnto his Ladie that then for iealousie was harkening at hir window both the sound of the instrument and the words of hir amorous Knight wher the gētleman soong this song THe death with trenchāt dart doth brede in brest such il As I cannot forget the smart that therby riseth stil. Yet ne erthelesse I am the ill it self in dede That death with daily dolours depe within my breast doth brede I am my mistresse thrall and yet I doe not kno If she beare me good will at all or if she loue or no. My wound is made so large with bitter wo in brest That still my heart prepares a place to lodge a careful guest O Dame that bath my life and death at thy desire Come 〈◊〉 my mind wher facies flames doth burn like Ethna fire For wanting thee my life is death and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 And finding fauor in thy sight my dayes are happy heere Then he began to sighe so terribly as if already she had gyuen sentence and definitiue Judgement of his farewel disputed with his felow in such sort with opinion so assured of his contempt as if hée had bene in loue with some one of the infants of Sp 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 which cause he begā again very pitifully to sing these verses THat God that made my soule knowes what I haue felt Who causeth sighes and sorowes oft the sely soule to swelt Doth see my torments now and what I suffer still And vnderstands I tast mo griefs than I can shew by skill He doth consent I wot to my ill hap and woe And hath accorded with the dame that is my pleasant foe To make my boyling brest abound in bitter blisse And so bereue me of my rest when heart his hope shall misse O what are not the songs and sighs that louers haue When night and day with swete desires they draw vnto their graue 〈◊〉 grief by friendship growes where ruth nor 〈◊〉 raines And so like snow against the sunne thei melt away with pains My dayes must finish so my destnie hath it set And as the candle out I goe before hir grace I get Before my sute be heard my seruice throughly knowne I shal be laid in tombe full lowe so colde as Marble stone To thee faire Dame I cry that makes my senses arre And plātest peace 〈◊〉 my brest then makes sodain war Yet at thy pleasure still thou must my sowre make sweete In graunting me the fauor due for faithfull louers meete Which fauor giue me now and to thy Noble minde I doe 〈◊〉 Galley slaue as thou by proofe shall finde And so thou shalt release my heart from cruell bandes And haue his fredome at thy wil that yelds into thy handes So rendring all to thee the Gods may ioyne vs both Within one lawe and league of loue through force of constant troth Then shalt thou mistresse be of life of limme and all My goodes my golde and honour loe shall so be at thy call This gentle order of loue greately pleased the Lady and therefore opened hir gate to let in the 〈◊〉 Lorde who séeyng himself fauoured beyond all hope of his Ladie and cherefully intertained and welcommed wyth greate curtesie stoode so stil astonnied as if he had bene fallen from the cloudes But shée whyche coulde teache hym good maner to make him the minister of hir mischiefe takyng him by the hande made him sitte downe vpon a gréene bedde besydes hir and séeing that he was not yet imboldened for all he was a souldier she she wed hir selfe more hardie than he and first assayled him wyth talke saying Syr I praye you thinke it not strange if at this houre of the night I am bolde to cause you enter my house béeyng of no greate acquaintaunce with you but by hearyng your curteous salutations And we of this countrey be somwhat more at libertie than they in those partes from whence you come Besides it liketh me well as I am able to honor strange gentlemen and to retaine them with right good willing heart sith it pleaseth them to honor me with repaire vnto my house so shall you be welcome stil when you please to knocke at my gate which at all times I will to be opened for you wyth no lesse good will than if ye were my natural brother the same with all the thinges therein it maye please you to dispose as if they were your owne Dom Pictro of Cardonne well satisfied and contented with this vnlooked for kyndnesse thanked hir very curteously humbly praying hir besides to dayne it in good parte if he were so bolde to make request of loue and that it was the onely thyng which hée aboue all other desyred moste so that if shée woulde receyue hym for hir friende and seruaunt shée shoulde vnderstand him to be a Gentleman whiche lyghtly woulde promise nothing excepte the accomplishment did followe she that sawe a greater onset than shée looked for answered hym smilyng with a very good grace Syr I haue knowne very many that haue vouched slipperie promyses and proffered lordly seruices vnto Ladies the effecte wherof if I myght once sée I would not thinke that they coulde vanishe so soone and consume lyke smoake Madame sayde the Scicilian yf I fayle in any thyng whichs you commaunde mée I praye to God neuer to receyue any fauour or grace of those Curtesies whyche I craue If then quod shée you wyll promyse to employe youre selfe aboute a businesse that I haue to doe when I make requeste I wyll also to accepte you for a friende and graunt such secrecie as a faythfull louer can desyre of hys Ladye Dom Pietro whyche woulde haue offered hym selfe in Sacrifice for hir not knowyng hir demaunde toke an othe and promysed hir so lightly as madly afterwardes he did put the same in proofe Beholde the preparatiues of the obsequies of their first loue the guages of a bloodie bedde the one was prodigal of hir honoure the other the tormenter of his reputation and neglected the duetie and honor of his state which the 〈◊〉 wherof he came commaunded hym to kepe Thus all the night he remained with Bianca Maria who made him so wel to like 〈◊〉 good entertainement and imbracementes as he neuer was out of hir companie And the warie Circes fained hir selfe so farre in loue with him and vsed so many toyes gametricks of hir filthie science as he not onely esteemed him selfe the happiest Gentleman of Scicilia but the most fortunate wight of al the world and by biubing of hir wine was so straungely charmed with the pleasures of his faire mistresse as for hir sake he wold haue taken vpon him the whole ouerthrow of Milan so well as 〈◊〉 of Cumes to set the Citie of Rome on fire if Tyberius Gracchus the sedicious woulde haue gyuen hir leaue Such is the maner of wilde and foolish youth as which suffreth it self to be caried beyond the boundes of
not greatly at his ease and quiet who neded no torments to force him confesse the fact for of his owne accorde 〈◊〉 he disclosed the same but he sayde he was prouoked thervnto by the persuasion of Bianca Maria telling the whole discourse as you haue heard before She had already intelligence of this chaunce might 〈◊〉 fled and saued hir selfe before the fact by the confession of Dom Pietro had bene discouered and attended in some secrete place til that stromie time had ben calmed appeased But God which is a rightful iudge would not suffer hir wickednesse extend any further fith she hauing founde out such a nimble wilfull executioner the Coūte of 〈◊〉 could not long haue 〈◊〉 aliue who then in good time and happie houre was absent out of the Citie So soone as Dom 〈◊〉 had accused the Countesse the Lorde of 〈◊〉 sente hir to prison and being examined confessed the whole matter trusting that hir infinite numbre of crownes would haue corrupted the Duke or those that represented his person But hir crownes and hir life passed all one way For the day after hir imprisonment she was condemned to lose hir heade And in the meane time Dom Pictro was saued by the diligence and sute of the captaines was employed in other warres to whome the Duke gaue him for that hée was 〈◊〉 to lose so notable a souldier and the aide of his brother the Counte of Colisano The Coūtesse hauing sentence pronoūced vpon hir but trusting for pardon she wold not prepare hir self to die ne yet by any means craue forgiuenesse of hir faults at the handes of God vntill she was conueyed out of the Castell and ledde to the common place of execution where a scaffold was prepared for hir to play the last acte of hir tragedie Then the miserable Ladie began to know hir self and to cōfesse hir faultes before the people deuoutely praying God not to haue regarde to hir demerites ne yet to determine his wrath against hir or enter with hir in iudgement for so much as if the same were decréed according to hir iniquitie no saluation was to bée looked for She besought the people to praye for hir and the Counte of Gaiazzo that was absent to pardon hir malice and treason which she had deuised against him Thus miserably and repentantly dyed the Countesse which in hir life refused not to imbrace and folow any wickednesse no mischiefe she accompted euill done so the same were imployed for hir pleasure and pastime A goodly example truely for the youth of oure present time sith the most part indifferētly do launch into the gulfe of disordred life suffring them selues to be plunged in the puddles of their owne vain conceipts without consideration of the mischieues that may ensue If the Lord of Cardonne had not ben beloued of his generall into what calamitie had he fallen for yelding him selfe a praie to that bloodie woman who had more regarde to the light and wilfull fansie of hir whome he serued like a slaue than to his duetie and estimation And truely those be voide of their right wittess which thinke them selues beloued of a whoore For their amitie endureth no longer than they sucke from their pursses and bodies any profit or pleasure And bicause almost euery day semblable examples be séene I will leaue of this discourse to take mée to a matter not farre more pleasant than this although founded vpon better grounde and stablished vpon loue the first onset of lawfull mariage the successe wherof chaunced to murderous end and yet the same intended by neyther of the beloued As you shall be iudge by the continuance of reding of the historie ensuing Beare with me good Ladies for of you alone I craue this pardon for introducing the whoorish life of this Countesse and hir bloodie enterprise bicause I know right well that recitall of murders and bloodie facts werieth the mindes of those that loue to liue at rest and wish for faire weather after the troublesome stormes of ragyng seas no lesse than the pilote and wise Mariner hauing long time endured and cut the perillous straicts of the Ocean sea And albeit the corruption of our nature be so great as folies delite vs more than ernest matters full of reason and wisedome yet I thinke not that our mindes be so peruerted and diuided from frouthe but sometimes we care and séeke to speake more grauely than the countrey Hynde or more sobrely than they whose liues do beare the marke of infamie and be to euery wight notorious for the only name of their vocation Suffiseth vs that an historie bée it neuer so full of sporte and pleasure do bring with it instruction of our lyfe and amendement of our maners And wée ought not to be so curious or scrupulous to reiect merrie and pleasaunt deuises that be voide of harmefull talke or without such glée as may hinder the education of youth procliue and redie to choose that is naught and corrupte The very bookes of holy Scriptures do describe vnto vs persons that be vicious so detestable as nothyng more whose factes vnto the symple may séeme vnséemely vpon the leaste recitall of the same And shal we therfore reiect the reading and eschue those holy bookes God forbid but with diligence to beware that we do not resemble those that be remembred there for example for somuch as spéedily after sinne ensueth grieuous and as sodaine punishement For which cause I haue selected these histories of purpose to aduertise youth howe those that folowe the way of damnable iniquitie faile not shortely after their greate offenses and execution of their outragious vices to féele the iuste and mightie hande of God who guerdoneth the good for their good workes and déedes and rewardeth the euill for their wickednesse and mischese Nowe turne we then to the Historie of two the rarest louers that euer were the performaunce and 〈◊〉 whereof had it ben so prosperous as the begynnyng had ioyed 〈◊〉 the fruictes of their intente and two noble houses of one Citie reconciled to perpetuall friendship Rhomeo and Julietta ¶ The goodly Historie of the true and constant Loue betwene RHOMEO and IVLIETTA the one of whom died of poison and the other of sorow and 〈◊〉 wherin be comprised many aduentures of loue and other deuises touching the same The. xxv Nouel I Am sure that they whiche measure the greatenesse of Gods works according to the capacitie of their rude simple vnderstanding wyll not lightly adhibite credite vnto this historie so wel for the va rietie of strange accidēts which be therin described as for that noueltie straungenesse of so rare and perfect amitie But they that haue redde Plinie Valerius Maximus Plutarche and diuers other writers doe finde that in olde tyme a greate numbre of men and women haue died some of excessiue ioye some of ouermuch sorrowe and some of other passions and amongs the same Loue is not the least which when it seaseth vpon
be dead in respect of the liuely sparks and violent fire which sorteth from your faire eyes which fire hath so fiercely inflamed all the most sensible parts of my body as if I be not succored by the fauoure of your diuine graces I doe attend the time to be consumed to dust Scarse had he made an end of those last words but the daunce of the Torche was at an end Whereby Iulietta which wholly burnt with loue straightly clasping hir hand with his had no leisure to make other answere but softly thus to say My deare friend I know not what other assured witnesse you desire of Loue but that I let you vnderstand that you be no more your owne than I am yours being ready and disposed to obey you so farre as honoure shall permit beséeching you for the present time to content your selfe with this answere vntill some other season méeter to Communicate more secretely of our affaires Rhomeo séeing himself pressed to part with the companie and for that hée knewe not by what meanes hée might sée hir againe that was his life and death demaunded of one of his friends what she was who made answer that she was the daughter of Capellet the Lord of the house and maister of that dayes feast who wroth beyond measure that fortune had sent him to so daungerous a place thought it impossible to bring to end his enterprise begon Iulietta couetous on the other 〈◊〉 to know what yong Gentleman hée was which had so courteously intertaigned hir that night and of whome she felt the new wounde in hir heart called an olde Gentlewoman of honor which had nurssed hir and brought hir vp vnto whome she sayd leaning vpon hir shoulder Mother what two yong Gentlemen be they which first goe forth with the two torches before them Unto whome the olde Gentlewoman tolde the name of the houses whereof they came Then she asked hir againe what yong Gentleman is that which holdeth the visarde in his hande with the Damaske cloke about him It is quod she Rhomeo Montesche the sonne of your Fathers capitall enimy and deadly 〈◊〉 to all your kinne But the maiden at the only name of Montesche was altogither amazed dispairing for euer to attaine to husband hir great affectioned friend Rhomeo for the auncient hatreds betwene those two families Neuerthelesse she knew so wel 〈◊〉 to dissemble hir grief and discontented minde as the olde Gentlewoman perceiued nothing who then began to persuade hir to retire into hir chamber whome she obeyed and being in hir bed thinking to take hir wonted rest a great 〈◊〉 of diuers thoughts began to enuiron trouble hir minde in such wise as she was not able to close hir eyes but turning here there fātasied diuerse things in hir thought sometimes purposed to cut of the whole attempt of that amorous practise sometimes to continue the same Thus was the poore pucell 〈◊〉 with two contraries the one comforted hir to pursue hir intent the other proposed the imminent perill whervnto vndiscretely she headlong threw hir self And after she had wandred of long time in this amorous Laberinth she knew not wherupon to resolue but wept incessantly and accused hir self saying Ah Caitife and miserable creature from whence doe rise these vnaccustomed trauailes which I 〈◊〉 in minde prouoking me to loose my rest but infortunate wretch what doe I know if that yong Gentleman doe loue me as hée sayeth It may be vnder the vaile of sugred woords hée goeth about to steale away mine honoure to be reuenged of my Parents which haue offended his and by that meanes to my euerlasting reproche to make me the fable of the Verona people Afterwards sodainly as she condempned that which she suspected in the beginning sayd Is it possible that vnder such beautie and rare comelinesse disloyaltie and Treason may haue their siedge and lodging If it be true that the face is the faithfull messanger of the mindes conceit I may be assured that hee doeth loue me for I marked so many chaunged coloures in his face in time of his talke with me and sawe him so transported and bisides himself as I cannot wishe any other more certaine lucke of loue wherin I will persist immutable to the 〈◊〉 gaspe of life to the intent I may haue him to be my husband For it may so come to passe as this newe alliance shall 〈◊〉 a perpetuall peace and amitie betwene his house and mine Aresting then vpon this determination still as she saw Rhomeo passing before hir Fathers gate she shewed hir self with mery countenance and 〈◊〉 him so with looke of eye vntill she had lost his sight And continuing this manner of life for certain dayes Rhomeo not able to content himself with lookes daily did beholde and marke the situation of the house and one day amongs others hée espied Iulietta at hir chamber window bounding vpon a narow lane right ouer against which Chamber he had a gardeine which was the cause that Rhomeo fearing discouery of their loue began then in the day time to passe no more before the gate but so soone as the night with his browne mantell had couered the earth he walked alone vp and downe that little streat And after he had bene there many times missing the chiefest cause of his comming Iulietta impacient of hir euill one night repaired to hir 〈◊〉 and perceiued through the brightnesse of the Moone hir friend Rhomeo hard vnder hir window no lesse attended for than he himself was waighting Then she secretely with teares in hir eyes and with voyce interrupted by sighes sayd Signior Rhomeo me thinke that you hazarde your persone too much and commit the same into great danger at this time of the night to protrude your self to the mercy of thē which meane you little good Who if they had taken you would haue cut you in pieces and mine honor which I estéeme dearer than my life hindred suspected for euer Madame answered Rhomeo my life is in the hād of God who only cā dispose the same 〈◊〉 if any man had sought meanes to berieue me of life I should in the presence of you haue made him known what mine abilitie had 〈◊〉 to defend that 〈◊〉 Notwithstanding life is not so deare and of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 ̄ vnto me but that I could 〈◊〉 to 〈◊〉 the same for your sake and although my 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 ben so great as to be dispatched in that place yet 〈◊〉 I no cause to be sory therefore excepte it had bene by loosing of meanes the same to forgoe the way how to make you vnderstand the good will and duety which I beare you desiring not to conserue the same for any commoditie that I hope to haue therby nor for any other respect but only to loue serue and honor you so 〈◊〉 as breath shal remaine in 〈◊〉 So soone as he had made an end of his talke loue and pitie began to sease vpon the heart of Iulictta and leaning hir head vpon hir 〈◊〉
an hundred thousand deathes did stande about hir haling hir on euery side and plucking hir in pieces féelyng that hir forces diminyshed by litle and litle fearing that through to great debilitie she was not able to do hir enterprise like a furious and insensate womā without further care gulped vp the water within the viol then crossing hir armes vpon hir stomacke she lost at that instant al the powers of hir body and remained in a traunce And when the mornyng light began to thrust his head out of his Orient hir chamber woman which had lockte hir in with the key did open the doore and thinking to awake hir called hir many times and sayde vnto hir Mistresse you sléepe to long the Counte Paris will come to raise you The poore olde woman spake vnto the wall and 〈◊〉 a song vnto the deafe For if all the horrible and tempestuous soundes of the worlde had bene canoned forth oute of the greatest bombardes and sounded through hir delicate eares hir spirits of lyfe were so fast bounde and stopt as she by no meanes coulde awake wherewith the poore olde woman amazed beganne 〈◊〉 shake hir by the armes and handes which she founde so colde as marble stone Then puttyng hande vnto hir mouthe sodainely perceyued that she was deade for she perceyued no breath in hir Wherfore lyke a woman out of hir wyttes shée ranne to tell hir mother who so madde as Tigre bereft of hir faons hyed hir selfe into hir daughters chaumber and in that pitifull state beholdyng hir daughter thinking hir to be deade cried out Ah cruell death which hast ended all my ioye and blisse vse thy laste scourge of thy wrathfull ire against me least by suffering me to lyue the rest of my woful dayes my tormente do increase then she began to fetchsuch straining sighes as hir heart dyd séeme to cleaue in pieces And as hir cries beganne to encrease beholde the father the Counte Paris and a greate troupe of Gentlemen and Ladies which were come to honour the feast hearing no soner tell of that which chaunced were stroke into such sorowfull dumpes as he whiche had behelde their faces wold easily haue iudged that the same had bē a day of ire pitie specially the lord Antonio whose heart was frapped with such surpassing wo as neither teare nor word could issue forth knowing not what to doe streight way sēt to seke that most expert phisitians of the towne who after they had inquired of the life past of Iulietta déemed by common reporte that melancolie was the cause of that sodaine death then their sorowes began to renue a 〈◊〉 And if euer day was lamentable piteous vnhappie and fatall truely it was that wherin Iulietta hir death was published in Verona for shée was so bewailed of great small that by the cōmon plaintes the common wealth séemed to be in daunger not without cause For besides hir natural beautie accompanied with many vertues wherewith nature had enriched hir she was else so humble wise and debonaire as for that humilitie and curtesie she had stollen away the heartes of euery wight and there was none but did lamente hir misfortune And whilest these things were in this lamented state Frier Laurence with diligence dispatched a Frier of his Couent named Frier Anselme whome he trusted as himselfe and deliuered him a letter written with his owne hande commaunding him expressely not to gyue the same to any other but to Rhomeo wherein was conteyned the chaunce which had passed betwene him and Iulietta specially that vertue of the pouder and commaunded him the nexte ensuing night to spéede him self to Verona for that the operation of the pouder that time would take ende that he should cary with him back again to Mantua his 〈◊〉 Iulietta in dissembled apparell vntill Fortune bad otherwise prouided for them The frier made such hast as too late he ariued at Mantua within a while after And bicause the maner of Italie is that the Frier trauailing abroade oughte to take a companion of his couent to doe his affaires within the Citie the Frier went into his couent but bicause he was entred in it was not lawfull for him to come out againe that day for that certain dayes before one religious of that couent as it was sayd did die of the plague Wherefore the magistrates appointed for the healthe and visitation of the sicke commaunded the warden of the house that no Friers shold wander abrode the Citie or talke with any citizen vntill they were licenced by the officers in that behalfe appointed which was the cause of the great mishap which you shal heare hereafter The Frier being in this perplexitie not able to goe forth and not knowing what was cōtained in the letter deferred his iorney for that day Whilest things were in this plight preparation was made at Veronna to doe the obsequies of Iulietta There is a custome also which is common in Italie to place all the beste of one lignage and familie in one Tombe wherby Iulietta was layde in the ordinarie graue of the 〈◊〉 in a Churcheyarde harde by the Churche of the Friers where also the Lorde Thibault was interred And hir obsequies honourably done euery man returned whereunto Pietro the seruant of Rhomeo gaue hys assistance For as we haue before declared his master sente him backe againe from Mantua to Verona to do his father seruice and to aduertise hym of that whiche shoulde chaunce in his absence there who séeing the body of Iulietta inclosed in tombe thinkyng with the rest that she had bene dead in déede incontinently toke poste horse and with diligence rode to Mantua where he founde his maister in his wonted house to whome he sayde with his eyes full of teares Syr there is chaunced vnto you so straunge a matter as if so bée you do not arme your selfe with constancie I am afrayde that I shal be the cruell minister of your death Bée it knowne vnto you syr that yesterday morning my mistresse Iulietta left hir lyfe in this world to seke rest in an other and wyth these eyes I saw hir buried in the Churchyarde of S. Frauncis At the sounde of which heauie message Rhomeo began wofully to 〈◊〉 as though his spirites grieued with the 〈◊〉 of his passion at that instant woulde haue abandoned his bodie But strong Loue whiche woulde not permitte hym to faint vntill the extremitie framed a thoughte in his fantasie that if it were possible for hym to dye besides hir his death shoulde be more glorious and 〈◊〉 as he thought better contented By reason whereof after 〈◊〉 had washed his face for 〈◊〉 to discouer hys sorrow he went out of hys chamber and commaunded hys man to 〈◊〉 behynde hym that hée might walke thorough oute all the corners of the Citie to fynde propre remedie if it were possyble for hys griefe And 〈◊〉 others beholdyng an Apoticaries shoppe of lytle furniture and lesse store of boxes and other thynges requisite
Rhomeo but began to breake the fountaine pipes of gushing teares which ran forth in such aboundance as not able to support the furor of hir grief she breathed without ceasing vpō his mouth and then throwing hir self vpon his body 〈◊〉 it very hard séemed that by force of sighs and sobs she wold haue reuiued and brought him againe to life and after she had kissed and rekissed him a million of times she cried out Ah the swete rest of my cares the only porte of all my pleasures and pastymes hadst thou 〈◊〉 sure a heart to choose thy Churchyarde in this place betwene the armes of thy perfect louer and to ende the course of thy life for my sake in the floure of thy youth whē life to thée shold haue bene most dear delectable how had this tender body power to resist the furious cōbat of death very death it self being here present How could thy fēder delicate youth willingly permit that thou shouldest approch into this filthy infected place where frō henceforth thou shalt be the pasture of worms vnworthy of thée Alas alas by what meanes shall I now renew my plaints which time and long pacience ought to haue buried and clearly quenched Ah I miserable and caitife wretch thinking to finde remedie for my griefs I haue sharpned the knife that hath 〈◊〉 me this cruel blow whereof I receiue the cause of mortall wound Ah happy and fortunate graue which shalt serue in world to come for witnesse of the most perfect aliāce that euer was betwene two most fortunate louers receiue now the last sobbing sighes intertainment of the most cruel of all the cruell subiects of ire death And as she thought to cōtinue hir cōplaints Pietro aduertised Frier Laurence the he heard a noise bisides the citadel wherwith being afraid they 〈◊〉 departed fearing to be taken And then Iulietta seing hir self alone in full libertie toke againe Rhomeo betwene hir armes kissing him with such affection as she semed to be more attainted with loue thā death and drawing out the dagger which Rhomeo ware by his side she pricked hir self with many blowes against the hart saying with feble pitiful voyce Ah death the end of sorow and beginning of felicity thou art most heartily welcome feare not at this time to sharpen thy dart giue no longer delay of life for fear that my sprite trauaile not to finde Rhomeos ghost amonges such numbre of carion corpses And thou my deare Lord and loyall husbande Rhomeo if there rest in thée any knowledge receiue hir whome thou hast so faithfully loued the only cause of thy violent death which frankely offreth vp hir soule that none but thou shalt ioy the loue wherof thou hast made so lawfull conquest And that our soules passing from this light may eternally liue together in the place of euerlasting ioy and when she had ended those words she yelded vp hir gost While these things thus were done the garde watch of the Citie by chāce passed by séeing light wtin the graue suspected straight the they were Necromācers which had opened the 〈◊〉 to abuse the dead bodies for aide of their arte desirous to know what it mēt wēt downe into the vaut where they 〈◊〉 Rhomeo Iulietta with their armes imbracing 〈◊〉 others neck as though there had ben some tokē of life And after they had well viewed them at leisure they knew in what case they were And thē all amazed they sought for the theues which as they thought had done the murder and in the end found the good father Frier Laurence and Pietro the seruaunt of dead Rhomeo which had hid themselues vnder a stall whome they caried to prison and aduertised the Lord of Escala and the Magistrates of Verona of that horrible murder which by and by was published throughout the Citie Then flocked together all the Citezens women children leauing their houses to looke vpon that pitifull sight and to the ende that in presence of the whole Citie the murder should be knowne the Magistrates ordained that the two deade bodies should be erected vpon a stage to the view and sight of the whole world in such sort and maner as they were found within the graue and that Pietro and Frier Laurence should publikely be examined that afterwardes there might be no murmure or other pretended cause of ignorance And this good olde Frier being vpon the scaffold hauing a white beard all wet bathed with teares the iudges cōmaūded to declare vnto them who were the authors of that murder sith at vntimely houre he was apprehended with certaine irons bisides the graue Frier Laurence a rounde and franke man of talke nothing moued with that accusation sayd vnto them with stoute and bolde voyce My masters there is none of you all if you haue respect vnto my forepassed life and to my aged yeres and therewithall haue cōsideration of this heauy spectacle whervnto vnhappy fortune hath presently brought me but doeth greatly maruell of so sodaine mutation change vnlooked for for so much as these thrée score and ten or twelue yeares sithens I came into this world and began to proue the vanities thereof I was neuer suspected touched or found gilty of any crime which was able to make me blush or hide my face although before God I doe confesse my self to be the greatest and most abhominable sinner of al the redéemed flock of Christ. So it is notwithstanding that sith I am prest ready to render mine accompt and that death the graue and wormes do daily summō this wretched corps of mine 〈◊〉 appeare before the iustice seate of God still waighting and 〈◊〉 to be caried to my hoped graue this is the houre I say as you likewise may thinke wherin I am fallen to the greatest damage preiudice of my life and honest port and that which hath ingēdred this sinister opinion of me may peraduēture be these great teares which in abundance trickle downe my face as though the holy scriptures do not witnesse that Iesus Christ moued with humane pitie and compassion did wepe and pour forth teares that many times teares be the faithfull messengers of a mans innocency Or else the most likely euidence and presumption is the suspected houre which as the magistrate doth say doe make me culpable of the murder as though all houres were not indifferently made equall by God their creattor who in his owne person declareth vnto vs the there be twelue houres in the day shewing therby that there is no exception of houres nor of minutes but that one may doe either good or yll at all times indifferently as the partie is guided or forsaken by the sprite of God touching the yrons which were found about me néedefull it is not now to let you vnderstand for what vse Iron was first made and that of it self it is not able to increase in man either good or euill if not by the mischeuous minde
your rancor into the lap of your Countrey that she may put him in exile for euer who like a pitifull and louing mother would gladly sée all hir children of one accorde and minde Which if ye doe ye shall do singulare pleasure to your friendes ye shal do great discōfort to your foes ye shal do singular good to the cōmon wealth ye shal do greatest benefit to your selues ye shal make vs humble wiues ye shal encrease your posterity ye shall be praised of all men 〈◊〉 finally shall depart the best contented men that euer the world brought forth And now bicause ye shall not thinke that we haue piked out this tale at our fingers ends thereby to séeke your sauegard and our fame and praise beholde the letters which you sent vs beholde your owne hands subscribed to the same beholde your seales assigned therunto which shall rendre true testimonie of that which vnfainedly we haue affirmed Then both deliuered their letters which viewed and séene were wel known to be their own husbāds hāds and the same so wel approued hir tale as their husbāds were the gladdest men of the world and the Duke and seignorie maruelously satisfied contēted In so much as the whole assēbly with one voice cried out for their husbands deliueraunce And so with the consent of the Duke the whole seignorie they were clerely discharged The parents cosins and friends of the husbands wiues were wonderfully amazed to here this long historie and greatly praised the maner of their deliuery accompting the women to be very wise and mistresse Isotta to be an eloquent gentlewoman for that she had so well defended the cause of their husbands of themselues Anselmo and Girolamo openly in the presence of all the people embraced and kissed their wiues with great 〈◊〉 And then the husbandes shaked one an other by the hands betwene whome began a brotherly accorde and from that time forth liued in perfect amitie and friendship exchaunging the wanton loue that either of thē bare to others wife into brotherly friendship to the great cōtentation of the whole Citie Whē the multitude assembled to heare this matter throughly was satisfied the Duke with chéereful countenance loking towarde Gismonda sayd thus vnto hir And you faire Gentlewoman what haue you to say Be bolde to vtter your minde and we will gladly heare you Mistresse Gismonda bashful to speake began wonderfully to blush into whose chekes entred an orient rud intermixed with an Alablaster white which made hir countenaunce more 〈◊〉 thā it was wont to be After she had stode still a while 〈◊〉 hir eyes declined towards the ground in comly wise lifting thē vp again with shamfast audacitie she begā to say If I most noble prince in opē audiēce shold attēpt to speake of loue wherof I neuer had experience or knew what thing it was I should be doubtful what to say therof and peraduēture durst not open mouth But hering my father of worthy memorie many times to tel that your maiestie in the time of your youth disdained not to opē your hert to receiue the amorous flames of loue being assured that ther is none but that doth loue litle or much I do not doubt but for the words which I shal speake to obtain both pitie and pardon To come then to the matter God I thank him of his goodnesse hath not permitted me to be one of that sort of women that like hipocrites do mumble their Pater nosters to saincts appering outwardly to be deuout holy and in fruite do bring forth deuils and all kindes of vices specially ingratitude whiche is a vice that dothe suck drie vp the foūtain of godly pietie Life is deare to me as naturally it is to all next which I estéeme mine honor that peraduēture is to be preferred before life bicause without honor life is of no reputatiō And where mā woman do liue in shame notorious to the world the same may be termed a liuing death rather thā a life But the loue that I beare to mine onely beloued master Aloisio here present I do esteme aboue al that iewels treasures of the world whose personage I do regard more thā mine owne life The reson that moueth me ther to is very great for before that I loued him or euer mēt to fire my minde that way he derely regarded me continually deuising which way he might win obtain my loue sparing no trauell by night day to seeke the same For which tender affectiō shold I shew my self vnkind and froward God forbid And to be plaine with your honors he is more deare acceptable vnto me than that balles of mine owne eyes being the derest things that appertaine to that furniture of the body of man without which no earthly thing can be gladsom and ioyfull to the sense and féeling Last of all his amorous and affectionate demonstration of his loue towards me by declaring him self to be careful of mine honor rather more willing to bestow his owne than to suffer the same to be touched with the left suspicion of dishonestie I can not choose but so faithfully imbrace as I am readie to guage my life for his sake rather than his finger shold ake for that offense And where hath there ben euer foūd such liberalitie in any louer What is he that hath ben euer so prodigall to employ his life the moste speciall pledge in this worlde rather than he would suffer his beloued to incurre dishonoure Many histories haue I red and Chronicles of our time and yet I haue founde fewe or none comparable vnto thys Gentleman the like of whom be so rare and seldome as white crowes or swannes of color blacke O singular liberalitie neuer heard of before O fact that can neuer be sufficiently praised O true loue most vnfained Maister Aloisio rather thā he wold haue my fame any one iote to be impaired or suffer any shadow of suspition to blemish the same frankly hath confessed himself to be a théefe regarding me mine honor more than himselfe life And albeit that he might a thousand wayes haue saued himself without the imprisonment aduersitie which he hath sustained neuerthelesse after he had said being then past remēbrāce through the fal that he fel downe frō my window perceiued how much that confession would preiudice and hurt my good name and spotte the known honestie of the same of his good wil chose to die rather than to speake any words that might bréede yll opinion of me or the least thing of the worlde that might ingendre infamie slaunder And therefore not able to cal back the words he had spoken of the fal nor by any meanes could coloure the same he thought to saue that good name of another by his own hurt If he then thus redily liberally hath protruded his life to manifest dāger for my benefit sauegard preferring min honor aboue the care of himself shall not I
who thinke my self of 〈◊〉 born and sustained in my first yong age to be the 〈◊〉 man and 〈◊〉 seruaunt of you my 〈◊〉 deare 〈◊〉 whome alone I yelde my heart 〈◊〉 as it is and the ioy of 〈◊〉 thoughts 〈◊〉 in my 〈◊〉 by the contemplation and remembraunce of your excellent and perfect grace wherof if I be not fauored I 〈◊〉 for death from which euen presently I 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 feare of that which she can doe or of the vgly 〈◊〉 which I conceiue to be in hir but rather to confirme my life this body for instrument to exercise the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 for doing of your commaundements where I shall proue that vnworthy cruelty both of your gentle 〈◊〉 and of the body fraught ful of that which dame Nature can departe of hir aboundant graces 〈◊〉 sure madame that you shall shortly sée the end of him which attendeth yet to beare so much as in him 〈◊〉 lie the vehement loue into an other world which maketh me to pray you to haue pitie on him who attending the rest and final sentence of his death or life doth humbly kisse your white and delicate hands 〈◊〉 god to giue to you like 〈◊〉 as his is who 〈◊〉 to be Wholy yours or not to be at all Philiberto of Virle The letter written closed and sealed 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 to 〈◊〉 neighbour who promised him againe to 〈◊〉 him 〈◊〉 at night Thus thys 〈◊〉 went hir way leauing this poore languishing Gentleman hoping against his hope and faining by and by some ioy and pleasure wherin he 〈◊〉 himself with great contented minde Then sodainly he called againe vnto remembrance the crueltie 〈◊〉 of Zilia which shewed before his eyes so many kindes of deathe as times he thought vpon the same thinking that he saw the choler wherewith his little courteous mistresse furiously did intertaine the messanger who found Zilia comming forth of a gardein adioyning to hir house and hauing saluted hir and receiued like courteous salutation she would haue framed hir talke for honest excuse in that 〈◊〉 charge message for hir also vnto whome she was sent and for some ease to the pore getleman which aproched nearer death than life But Zilia brake of hir talke saying I maruell much gentle neighbor to sée you héere at this time of the day knowing your honest custome is to let passe no minute of the time except it be employed in some vertuous exercise Mistresse answered the messanger I thank you for the good opinion you haue of me and doe pray you to 〈◊〉 the same For I do assure you that nothing vaine of little effect hath made me slacke my businesse at this time which me think I do not 〈◊〉 when I inforce my self to take pitie and mercy vpon the afflicted sort and the cause therof I would disclose if I feared not to offend you and breake the loue which of long time betwene vs two hath bene frequented I know not sayd Zilia wherunto your words do tēd although my heart doth throbbe and minde doth moue to make me thinke your purposed talke to be of none other effecte than to say a 〈◊〉 which may redoūd to the preiudice of mine 〈◊〉 Wherfore I pray you doe not open any thing that 〈◊〉 be contrary be it neuer so little to the duetie of Dames of our degrée Mistresse sayd the neighboure I suppose that the little likelihoode which is in you with the thing for the helpe whereof I come to speake hath made you féele the passion contrary to the griefe of him that indures so much for your sake Unto whome not thinking therof I gaue my faith in pledge to beare this Letter In saying so she drew the same out of hir bosome and presenting them to cruell 〈◊〉 she sayde I beseeche you to thinke that I am not ignoraunt of the 〈◊〉 wherewith the Lorde of 〈◊〉 is affected who wrote these letters I promised him the duetie of a messanger towardes you and so constrained by promise I could doe no lesse than to deliuer you that which he doeth send with seruice such as shall 〈◊〉 for euer or if it shall please you to accept him for such a one as he desireth For my parte I pray you to reade the contents and accordingly to giue me answere for my faith is no further bound but faithfully to reporte to him the thing whereupon you shall be resolued Zilia which was not wont to receiue very ofte such embassades at the first was in minde to breake the letters and to returne the messanger to hir shame But in the end taking heart and chaunging hir affection she red the letters not without shewing some very great alteration outwardely which declared the meaning of hir thought that diuersly did striue within hir minde for sodainely the chaunged hir coloure twice or thrice now waring pale like the increasing 〈◊〉 Eclipsed by the Sunne when the féeleth a certaine darkening of hir borowed light then the Uermilion and coloured tainte came into hir face againe with no lesse hewe than the blomed Rose newly budded forth which encreased halfe so much againe the excellencie of that wherewith Nature 〈◊〉 indued hir And 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 paused a while Notwithstanding after that shée had redde and redde againe hir louers letter not able to dissemble hir foolishe anger which vered hir hearte she sayd vnto the mistresse messanger I wold not haue thought that you being suche as eche man knoweth would by abusing your duetie haue bene the ambassador of a thing so vncomely for your estate and the house whereof you come and towardes me which neuer was such one ne yet pretend to be to whome sute should be made for doing of such follies And trust to it that it is the loue I beare you which shall make me dissemble that I thinke and holde my peace reseruing in silence that which had it come from an other than you I would haue published to the great dishonoure of hir which had made so little accompte of my chastitie Let it suffise therfore in time to come for you to thinke and beleue that I am chaste and honest and to aduertise the Lord of 〈◊〉 to procéede no further in his sute for rather will I die than agrée to the least point of that which he desires of me And that he may knowe the same be well assured that he shall take his leaue of that priuate talke which sometimes I vsed with him to my great dishonor as farre as I can sée Get you home therefore and if you loue your honoure so much as you sée me curious of my chastitie I beséeche you vse no further talke of him whome I hate so much as his 〈◊〉 is excessiue by louing hir which careth not for those amorous toyes and sained passions whereunto such louing fooles do suffer them selues to be caried headlong The messanger ashamed to heare hir selfe thus pinched to the quicke answered hir very quietly without mouing of hir pacience I pray to God mistresse that he
It chaunced in this time that a knight of 〈◊〉 the vassall of King Mathie for that he was likewise king of that countrey borne of a noble house very valiant and well exercised in armes fel in loue with a passing faire Gentlewoman of like nobilitie and reputed to be the 〈◊〉 of all the countrey and had a brother that was but a poore Gentleman not luckie to the goods of fortune This Boemian knight was also not very rich hauing onely a castle with certaine reuenues 〈◊〉 which wer 〈◊〉 able to yeld vnto him any gret maintenance of liuing Fallyng in loue then with this faire Gentlewoman he demaūded hir in mariage of hir brother with hir had but a very litle dowrie And thys knight not wel forseeing his poore estate broughte his wife home to his house there at more leisure cōsidering that same begā to fele his lack penurie how hardly scant his reuenues wer able to maintein his port He was a very honest gentle person one that delited not by any meanes to burden fine his tenants cōtenting himself with the reuenue whiche his auncesters left him the same amounting to no great yerely rent Whē this gentlemā perceiued that he stode in nede of extraordinarie reliefe after many diuers cōsiderations with himself he purposed to folow the court to serue king Mathie his souerain lord master there by his diligence experience to seke meanes for abilitie to sustain his wife him self But so great feruent was that loue that he bare vnto his lady as he thought it impossible for him to liue one houre 〈◊〉 hir yet iudged it not best to haue hir with him to the court for auoiding of further charges 〈◊〉 to courting ladies whose delite 〈◊〉 plesure resteth in the toys tricks of the same that cānot he wel auoided in poore gētlemē without their names in the Mercers or Drapers Iornals a heauy thing for them to consider if for their disport they like to walk that stretes The daily thinking thervpon brought that poore Gentlemā to great sorow heauinesse The lady that was yong wise discrete marking the maner of hir husband feared that he had some 〈◊〉 of hir Wherfore vpon a day she thus said vnto him Dere husband willingly wold I wish desire a good turne at your hand if I wist I should not displease you Demaund what you will said the knight if I can I wil gladly performe it bicause I doe estéeme your satisfaction as I doe mine owne lyfe Then the Ladie very sobrely prayde hym that he wold open vnto hir the cause of that discontenment whiche he shewed outwardly to haue for that hys mynde and behauiour séemed to be contrary to ordinarie custome contriued day and night in fighes auoidyng the companie of them that were wont specially to delight him The Knight hearing his ladies request paused a while and then sayd vnto hir My welbeloued wyfe for so much as you desire to vnderstand my thoughte and mynde and whereof it commeth that I am so sad and pensife I will tell you All the heauynesse wherwith you sée me to be affected dothe tend to this ende Fayne would I deuise that you and I may in honour lyue together according to our calling For in respect of our parentage our liuelode is very poore the occasion whereof were our parentes who morgaged their lands consumed a great part of their goods that our auncesters left them I daily thinkyng herevpon and conceiuing in my head diuers imaginations can deuise no meanes but one that in my 〈◊〉 séemeth best which is that I go to the Court of our souerain lord Mathie who at this present is inferring warrs vpon the Turk at whose hāds I do not mistrust to receiue good 〈◊〉 being a most liberal prince and one that estemeth al such as be valiant and actiue And I for my parte will so gouerne my selfe by Gods grace that by deserte I will procure suche lyuyng and 〈◊〉 as hereafter we may liue in our olde dayes a quiet life to our great stay and comfort For although Fortune hitherto hath not fauored that state of parētage wherof we be I doubt not with noble courage to win that in despite of Fortunes teeth whiche obstinately hytherto shée hath denied And the more assured am I of thys determination bycause at other tymes I haue serued vnder the Lorde Vaiuoda in Transsyluania against the Turk where many times I haue bene required to serue also in the Courte by that honorable Gentleman the Counte of Cilia But when I dyd consider the beloued companie of you dere wife the swéetest companion that euer wyght didde 〈◊〉 I thought it vnpossible for mée to forbeare your presence whych if I should do I were worthy to sustayne that dishonour which a great number of carelesse Gentlemen doe who followyng their priuate gayne and will abandon their yong and faire wyues neglecting the fyre whyche Nature hath instilled to the delicate bodyes of suche tender creatures Fearing therwithall that so soone as I shoulde depart the lustie yong Barons and Gentlemen of the countrey woulde pursue the gayne of that loue the price wherof I doe esteme aboue the crowne of the greatest emperour in all the worlde and woulde not forgoe for all the riches and precious Iewels in the fertile soilt of Arabie who no doubte woulde 〈◊〉 together in greater heapes than euer dydde the wowers of Penelope wythin the famouse graunge of Ithaca the house of wanderynge Vlisses Whyche pursuite yf they dydde attayne I shoulde for euer hereafter bée ashamed to shew my face before those that be of valour and regarde And this is the whole effect of the scruple 〈◊〉 wife that hindreth me to séeke for our better estate and fortune When he had spoken those woords 〈◊〉 held his peace The Gentlewoman which was wise and stout perceiuing the great loue that hir husbande bare hir when he had stayed himselfe from talke with good and mery countenaunce answered hym in thys wise Sir Vlrico which was the name of the Gentleman I in like manner as you haue done haue deuised and thought vpon the Nobilitie and birth of our auncestors from whose state and port and that without our fault and crime we be farre wide and deuided Notwithstanding I determined to set a good face vpon the matter and to make so much of our painted sheath as I could In déede I confesse my self to be a woman and you men do say that womens hearts be faint I féeble but to be plaine with you the contrary is in me my heart is so stoute and ambitious as paraduenture not méete and consonāt to power and abilitie although we women will finde no lacke if our hearts haue pith and strength inough to beare it out And faine wold I support the state wherin my mother maintained me Now be it for mine owne part to God I yeld the thanks I can so moderate and stay
how the pore Gentleman was resolued to finish there in the desert vnknowen to his friends all the remnāt of his life And who aswell for the euill order and not 〈◊〉 nouriture as for assiduall plaints and wé 〈◊〉 was become so pale leane as he better resembled a dry chippe than a man hauing féeling or life His eyes were soonke into his head his beard 〈◊〉 his hair staring his skin ful of filth altogither more like a wilde and sauage creature such one as is depainted in brutall forme than faire Dom Diego so much commēded and estéemed through out the kingdome of Spaine Nowe leaue we this amorous Hermite to passionate plaine his misfortune to sée to what ende the Letters came that he wrote to his cruell Mistresse The day 〈◊〉 for deliuerie of his Letters his seruaunt did his charge and being come to the house of Gineura found hir in the Hall with hir mother where kissing his maisters letters he presēted them with very great reuerence to the Gentlewoman Who so soone as she knewe that they came from Dom Diego all chaunged into raging coloure and foolishe choler threw them incontinently vpon the ground saying Sufficeth it not thy maister that already twice I haue done him to vnderstand that I haue nothing to do with his letters nor Ambassades and yet goeth he about by such assaultes to encrease my displeasure and agonie by the only remembraunce of his follie The mother séeing that vnciuile order although she vnderstoode the cause and knew that there was some discorde betwéene the two Louers yet thought it to be but light sith the Comike Poet doeth say The louers often falling out And prety wrangling rage Of pleasant loue it is no dout The sure renewing gage She went vnto hir Daughter saying What great rage is this Let me sée that letter that I may read it For I haue no feare that Dom Diego can deceiue me with the swéetenesse of his hony words And truly daughter you néede not feare to touch them for if there were any poison in them it proceaded from your beautie that hath bitten and stong the Knight whereof if he assay to make you a partaker I sée no cause why he ought to be thus rigorously reiected deseruing by his honestie a better entertainement at your handes In the meane time one of the Seruing men tooke vp the letters and gaue them to the Lady who reading them found written as foloweth The letters of Dom Diego to Mistresse Gineura MY dearest and most wellbeloued Ladie sith that mine innocency can finde no resting place within your tendre corpse what honest excuse or true reasō so euer I do alleage and sith your heart declareth it selfe to be implacable and not pleased with him that neuer offēded you except it were for ouermuch loue which for guerdon of that rare and incomparable amitie I perceiue my self to be hated deadly of you and in such wise contemned as the only record of my name causeth in you an insupportable griefe and displeasure vnspeakeable To auoid I say your indignation and by my mishap to render vnto you some 〈◊〉 and contentment I haue meant to dislodge my selfe so far from this Countrey as neither you nor any other shal euer hear by fame or true report the place of my abode nor the graue wherin my bones shall rest And although it be an 〈◊〉 hearts sorow and torment which by way of pen can not be declared to be thus misprised of you whom alone I do loue and shal so long as mine afflicted soule shall hang vpon the féeble and brittle thréede of life yet for all that this griefe falling vpon me is not so 〈◊〉 as the punishment is grieuous by imagining the passion of youre minde when it is 〈◊〉 with 〈◊〉 and wrathe againste me who liueth not but to wander vpon the thoughtes of youre perfections And forsomuch as I doe féele for the debilitie that is in me that I am not able any longer to beare the sowre shockes of my bitter torments and martyrdome that I presently doe suffer yet before my life do faile and death doe sease vpon my senses I haue writen vnto you this present letter for a testimoniall of your rigour which is the marke that iustifieth my vngyltinesse And although I doe complain of mine vnhappie fortune yet I meane not to accuse you only contented that eche man doe know that firme affection and eternall thraldome do deserue other recompense than a farewell so cruell And I am well assured that when I am dead you will pitie our torment knowing then although to late that my loyaltie was so sincere as the report of those was false that made you beléeue that I was very farre in loue with the daughter of Dom Ferrande de la Serre Alas shall a noble Gentleman that hath bene wel trained vp be fordidden to receiue the gifts that come from a vertuous Gentlewoman Ought you to be so incapable and voide of humanitie that the sacrifice whiche I haue made of the poore birde the cause of your disdaine my repentance my lawfull excuses are not able to let you sée the contrary of you persuation Ah ah I sée that the darke and obscure vaile of vniust disdaine 〈◊〉 anger hath so blindfold your eyes and 〈◊〉 your minde as you can not iudge the truth of my cause and the vnrighteousnesse of your quarel I will render vnto you none other certificat of mine innocencie but my languishing heart whiche you clepe betwene your hands feling such rude intertainment there of whome he loked for reioyse of his trauels But for somuch then as you do hate me what resteth for me to do but to pro cure destruction to my selfe And sith your pleasure cōsisteth in mine ouerthrowe reason willeth that I obey you and by death to sacrifice my life in like maner as by life you wer the only mistresse of my heart 〈◊〉 only thing chereth vp my heart maketh my death more miserable which is that in dying so innocent as I am you shal remaine faultie the onely cause of my ruine My life will depart like a puffe soule shal vanish like a swéete sōmers blast wherby you shal be euer déemed for a cruell womā and bloodie murderer of your deuout and faithful seruants I pray to God mine owne swete Ladie to giue you such contentation ioy pleasure and gladnesse as you do cause through your rigor discōtentation grief displeasure to the poore lan guishing creature and who for euermore shall be Your most obedient and affected seruant Dom Diego The good Ladie hauyng redde the Letter was so astoonned as hir woordes for a long space stayed within hir mouth hir heart panted and spirite was full of confusion hir minde was filled with sorow to consider the anguishes of the poore vagabund and foster hermit In the ende before the houshold dissembling hir passion which moued hir sense she toke hir daughter aside whō very sharply she rebuked