put his swoorde vnto his throate and sayde thus Duke thou art but dead if thou doest not confesse the truth of this treason which thou hast raised against the Dutchesse of Austria Then the Duke séeing himselfe in that extremitie thought of truth that the diuine iustice was come vppon him and that he was some Angell sent from God for to destroie and kill him and fearing least both bodie and soule should bée destroyed he determined to tell the truth of all the whole treason so that he sayde vnto Rosicleer that hée should holde his hands and not kill him not for that he feared to die but to saue his soule he would tell him the truth thereof Then Rosicleer did assure him his life and gaue him his hand and dyd helpe him to arise from the ground and when he sawe the other knights in battaile he and Rosicleer went and did part them and put themselues betwéene them and sayd Sir knights let this your contentious battaile cease for there is no reason wherfore you should receiue anie harme but I alone who is in the fault and worthie to be blamed At which words saying Liriamandro had ouerthrowen the stout Ricardo Lusiano had brought Carmelio into a great perplexitie so that they had not much a doe to part them the which being done the Duke with an high voice that the king and all that were there about him might heare declared all the whole treason how and in what sort in all points as he dyd it and as you haue heard But when the gentle Lusiano sawe the honour of his spouse so cleere and the great fortune and victorie that he had in the battaile whereas before both the honour of his Ladie and his lyfe was cleane lost it cannot bée expressed the great ioy and pleaâ—ure that entered into his heart and how thankfullie he gratified Rosicleer and Liriamandro desiring them to shew him so much pleasure as to tell him who they were to take of his treasure all that was their pleasure and wills for that was too little for them in consideration of the great pleasure that they dyd for him But the ioy and contentment which the faire Polisena receiued no man is able to expresse Likewise the King and the Queene were verie ioyfull for they loued meruailous well the Prince Lusiano and the Dutchesse and meruailing verie much at the straunge bountie of the kniâ—â—tes they thought it long till they knew what they were for that they vnderstood they were not of that Countrie The king then commaunded that they shoulde come before him who straight wayes with Lusiano went before the king and when that they had done their dutie and before that they pulled off their healmes or treated of anie other matter they craued of the king that both the Duke and the Damsell might bee pardoned and although the king determined to punish them as they had deserued yet in the ende at their request hee dyd pardon them with this condition that the Duke with the Damsell should out of hand depart the Court and neuer more in all their liues to enter into the same The Duke straight waies gaue great thankes vnto the knightes for that which for him they had done the same daie after that they knew who the knights were he departed from the Court with his damsell and the reward which he gaue vnto her for her labour was that the same night he slew her in a Forrest being ashamed of that which with her he had done And this is the reward that all such ought to looke for for although there be many that would profit themselues of the treason yet in conclusion by great fortune there are few traitors that doe escape their reward surelie they ought not to be suffered amongst men for that there is no perill or daunger that may be compared vnto the mischieuous practise and pretence of a traitor no not the raging waues of the sea earthquakes whirle winds thunder boltes stormes warres no nor the furie of the elements for the proofe whereof I doe referre mée vnto the mightie Alexander whose â—lying in the aire and trauailing on the seas whose conquests of the whole world with wars and battailes none of all these were sufficient for to bring him vnto his end but onelie a traitor one of his owne retinue by treason did kill him If this example be not sufficient consider of Darius that was before him and of Priamus the mightie Achilles Minos Nisus Agamemnon Romulus Tarquinus Seruius and the minor 〈◊〉 the mightie Bompeus Iulius Caesar and many other Emperours and kings vnto whom no perill was so dangerous as treason ordained and wrought by their owne seruants so that with great reason the traitor ought to be abhorred as wel as they that doe inioy the benefite of treason rewarded as well the Damsell as the Duke Roberto who thought she went for to bée rewarded for her trauaile yet she receiued the iust punishment for her fault But now to returne vnto that which did remaine the Hystorie saith that after the king had pardoned and forgiuen the Duke he had great desire for to knowe whome the knights were Then Rosicleer and Liriamandro pulled off their helmes and knéeling downe before the king Liriamandro sayd Let your Highnesse know and be acquainted with this knight who is Rosicleer sonne vnto the Emperor Trebatio and of the Empresse Briana whom al the whole world for his great bountie ought to honor me for Liriamandro your sonne and of the Quéene Augusta my Lady mother who with newes of great ioy and pleasure doe come to kisse your handes When the king knew to be in his presence his so long desired sonne and the other to be Rosicleer his nephew it cannot be expressed the great ioy contentment pleasure he receiued at his heart as he that in all the world desired no other thing and as one from himselfe with great ioy he went embraced them saying Oh my sonnes what ioyfull and happie newes is this vnto me for that in it is accomplished the thing that I most desired before I should die how is it that you haue consented so long time to kéepe from me this great ioy The king had scarce concluded these wordes when that the Queene with incredible ioy great hast came vnto them threw her armes about their necks whereas she remained embracing of them both a greate while and could not speake one word for ioy Thus after there had passed betwixt them many wordes of great ioy in this their ioyfull meeting straight waies the Prince Lusiano came and kneeled downe before them and would haue kissed their hands as well for the great curtesie which they had done for him as also for y â— Liriamandro was his Prince and naturall Lord but they who had him in great estimation did receiue â—nd embrace him with great loue and ioy Then after him came vnto them the three valiant knights Ricardo Carmelio
â—â—at We 〈◊〉 take you for our Lord all the daies of our 〈…〉 of any other reward but to learne of you good maners and conditions and new séeing it is so we doe 〈…〉 praye and desirs you that you would not leaue vs 〈◊〉 tute of your campanie with this excuse y â— you haue told vs for that we had rather die with you in what place soeuer it be then to haue all that the Emperour our Lord can giue vs and we shall haue great reason to complaine of you if that in the ende of so long time that we haue bene in your séruice you will leaue vs for surely our father will think no other occasion which driueth you to leaue vs but onely that we are not for to serue you With no lesse 〈◊〉 then Aurelio his brother Biniano said as much vnto the knight of the Sunne desiring him that he would think well of them and to take them with him in his companie who when he saw their great â—â—portunatie without speaking any word he mounted vpon his Horse and departed out of the pallace and his squires followed him and being foorth of the Citie they made so great haste in their trauaile that when the daie did breake they were a great waie of from Constantinople and fearing that some would follow after them they left the high waie and put themselues into a faire gréene fresh forest meruaâ—lously full of trées and in a part of the wildernesse of Grecia verie famous and notaâ—â—â— as well for the mightinesse thereof as to be verie plaine for that in one huÌ„dreth myles trauailing you could not finde anie one mountaine or hill the which was verie fresh and delightfull full of orchards and gardines and thick trées that few times they that doth enter into the same can finde the way out againe And trauailing in the same this valiant knight with his heart so furious and full of sorow griefe and anger that he thought it would breake within his bodie His squires séeing him so full of anguish and griefe they kept themselues a good waie behinde him for feare of his wrath and displeasure but he was so peâ—sâ—ue and heauie in his heart and minde that his Horse carryed him at his pleasure for that he made no accompt to rule him to the one side nor vnto the other and as he rode all alone in these pensine cogitations as you before haue heard they heard him saie as followeth OH traytor and false knight whether doest thou goe and what dost thou â—éeke how is it thâ—at thou doest now liue in the world hauing committed so great treason Oâ— earth why doest thou not open and swallow me vp into thy profoundnesse for that such a traitor as I am doth not delexue other sepulchre Oh if it were Gods will that thou diddest now open and that all the foure Glements might fall together vpon me as the fire did against Aleâ—bâ—atlâ—s the good Captaine of Grecia and the aire and water as against Pompeyo being drowned in the deep seas of Aegypt Alexander horne in Epiro and drowned in the â—iuer Lucano Likewise that the earth might bée against me as it was against him who with a great and mightie armie was drowned â—n the sants Oh high and coniealed cloudes how swéete and in peaceable sorte shoulde â—ound in my eares the timerous noise of your wonderfull and sodaine thunders if that from them might descend vpon me the beames of burning fire as they did descend vpon Carro Emperor of Rome in the wars of Tigre and vpon Hostiâ—â—o king of the Romanes who béeing in his pallace was slaine by two sodaine lightninges Oh that my force and strength were so contrarie now vnto me as was the force of Milo and that this my horse might drawe mée through this forrest or that by some other occasion I might end my life so that I dyd it not my selfe for the safegard of my soule and when that all these disasters dooth faile mée then doe I desire God that my wittes may faile me and my vnderstanding as did Hercules and Aiax Telamon the Gréeke for y â— I being mad furious as they were might not féele my misfortune and vnhappie lot What is he in all the world that euer felt anie anguish sorrow and griefe that may be compared vnto mine What shall I doo and whether shall I goe Why should I liue anie longer vpon the earth for that I haue not alonelie bene a traitour vnto my Ladie and mistres but also as a mortall enimie I haue laid vpon her with my sword What misfortune may happen worse vnto me than this to sée her desire my death in whome standeth all the state of my life yet haue I committed against her so great euill and errour that shée hath iust cause to procure my death and I lacke of reason for to excuse me but now séeing that it is so that I am abhorred of my Ladie I will not kill my selfe for the safegard of my soule lyke a faithfull Christian but I will thether whereas none shall know nor heare anie newes of me whether I hée aliâ—ie or dead yea there whereas the brute beasts cannot liue for that so false and distoiall a man as I am deserueth not to liue whereas they do receiue comfort of the Sun and the swéetnesse of the aire So saying these and many other things this good knight trauailed being verie furious not desiring anie other thing but wherein it might cost him his life And as he trauailed a space in this sort and being entered a good waie into the wildernesse looking before him that waie which his horse carried him he sawe come forth out of a narrow path from amongst a bushment of thicke trées a mightie bigge knight mounted vpon a mightie horse all armed in blacke armour so bigge membred that he lacked little to be a Gyant and as hée drew nigh vnto him hée sawe that hée carryed his â—eauer lift vp and that he was of so furious semblaunce and braue countenaunce and by his bigge stature and well proportioned members hée séemed to bée verie valiant and séeing him come in this manner he sayde within himselfe Oh that my fortune were such that this whom I now méete were that Milo or that mightie Hercules or some other of no lesse force strength and valiantnesse than they that might so â—orment my strength in such sorte that this my bodie so disâ—oial might remaine in these fieldes for â—oode vnto the brute beasts but my soule into the place of ease in eternall glorie for whome it was created In saying these wordes this bigge knight merâ—ailing verie much at the braue and gentle disposition of the knight of the Sunne dyd staie his mightie horse and beholding him hée sayd Tell mée Knight art thou by fortune of the court of the Emperour â—rebatio I am sayde the knight of the Sunne Then tell me if thou commest from thence if there remaineth a knight that is called the
all those y â— haue anie notice of this Iland doe not onelie refuse to land vppon it but also they dare not come nigh it with their ships for that many times this possessed Fauno hath ben séene enter into the sea a great stones cast when that anie ship or barke were nigh the shore and if that by misfortune those vnhappie trauailers doe fall into his hands there is none that escapeth with their lius for that with the horne that he hath in his forehead at one only blow he teareth a ship in péeces then after with his strong armes and vnmercifull téeth he rents teares in péeces all that is before him and there is no strength of man nor armour so strong that can withstand his â—urie for that his hoarie skin is of so great hardnes y â— it is not possible for anie weapon to enter it This is y â— occasion gentle knight y â— this Iland is so much spoken of and so feareful vnto all sailers that passeth this waie and why it is called the Iland of the diuell and that fire which we doe sée with that thicke smoake that ascendeth into the aire is all that which procéedeth out of the terrible and horrible mouth of that diuellish Fauno for that it is full of infernall diuells By this you may iudge what the monster should be that throweth from him such wonderfull and terrible infections This worthie knight of the Sun at this discourse of the olde Pilot was greatly amazed and so were all the knights of Candia that came in the same ship the which thing seemed vnto them to be one of the straungest that euer happened in all the world yet the straungenesse thereof was not so terrible vnto all the rest of the hearers as it gaue great desire vnto the valiant worthie knight of the Sun to go a land at that Iland and to goe and seeke out that possessed Fauno for that the hearing thereof did not cause anie feare or dread in his couragious heart as he who for such like attempts aboue all other stout knights was created did litle estéeme the venturing of his life whereas the honour and glorie of such worthinesse is put in aduenture and in especiall in that time abhorring himselfe in consideration of his fact he was so furious and desperate that he neither feared nor dreaded the entrie into hell much lesse the Iland Thus he béeing fullie determined to goe a land called vnto him Aurelio and Biniano his squires and calling them apart in shedding many salt teares which ranne down his graue countenance he sayd these wordes My good friends God doth know what great griefe it is vnto me for to declare this which I haue to saie and what sorrow I doe féele at my heart before I doe vtter it not so much for that it doth touch me although my misfortune aboue al other in the world is most strangest as it is for that I doe sée at such time as I should doe some thing for you to giue you reward for your great good seruice done vnto me I am constrained to abandon and leaue you alone without any hope euer to sée you more this is the thing that doth so grieue me ioyntlie to consider how my losse will bée lamented of my father and mother my brother and all my friends that to declare it my tongue doth faile mee Ah my good friends you shall vnderstand that my departure out of Constantinople was for no other intent but for to leaue the worlde and for to goe whereas I might shorten my daies and thether whereas it might not bée knowen vnto anie whether I be aliue or dead for that my euill fortune is such that it doeth not atcomplish mée for to liue anie longer héere amongest men and in consideration heereof I dyd at our departure so much request you that you should haue remained with the Emperour my Father for that he and my brother Rosicleer might reward you for the great seruice done vnto me for that I am not able to doe it and being at that time so much importuned by you that by anie meanes I could not leaue your companie but now the time is come that my sorrowfull destinie hath permitted that from this daie forwardes I am constrained to leaue you and to make reckoning that of you nor of my father and brother I was neuer knowen The occasion therof I will not declare vnto you for that alonelie my hart who doth suffer the inconuenience shal know it But thus much I will saie vnto you that if the perill in loosing of my soule did not disturbe me I haue sufficient cause to giue my selfe a thousand deaths with my owne handes and for that my life is so heauie and grieuous vnto mée and that my force strength is not sufficient for to suffer the same I am determined for to go a land on this Iland of y â— Fauno and there to end my vnhappie daies and if it so fall out fortune to be fauourable vnto me in that I do ouercome and kil the monster I shall doe great seruice vnto God in taking out of the world a thing so fierce and abhominable then afterwarde shall that Iland be verie solitarie and fit for my purpose where I meane to end my sorrowfull daies And if my fortune be such that I die in the power of the Fauno as sure I am that I owe a death then shall I there paie the death that is due vnto this my mortall bodie and the debt that is due vnto this vnhappie and troublesome world Therefore my good friends I doe most heartelie desire you for the great good loue which you dyd alwaies beare vnto me that at this present you will shew it to be more than héeretofore and to be conformable vnto my will and to thinke well of this my pretence and to haue patience and perswade with your selues in this my departure and to comfort your selues in that it is a great griefe vnto me for to leaue you and to conclude the lyfe of man is briefe and short and full of miserie and anguish and I praie and beséech the vniuersall creator that we may in the other world with more ioy quietquietnesse and pleasure So my will is that after I am departed you go with these knights vnto Transiluania and from thence to returne into Grecia and there to establysh your selues with the Emperour my father without giuing him to vnderstand of anie thing that hath happened vnto me since my departure out of the mightie Citie of Constantinople but saie that you lost me in the wildernesse of Grecia and remaine with him for that I am sure that hée and my brother Rosicleer will doe as much for you as though I were there my selfe and if at anie time by fortune you doe méete with the Empresse Claridiana you shall saye vnto her that at such time as I departed from you I left your companie for that I went out
of the worlde because that in liuing I shoulde not bée odious vnto her nor cause her anie more anger and of one thing she shall bée sure that so long as shée liueth shée shall neuer haue anie newes of mée When the knight of the Sunne had sayd these wordes these two his good Squires did weepe so bitterlie that they had no power to speak in a good space in the end they caught him by the armour and held him fast saying Oh our good Lord wherefore is it you pleasure for to leaue vs in so great sorrow and care and to cause your father and mother brethren and friendes alwaies to liue in great heauinesse and griefe What great griefe is this that you haue conceiued which is the occasion that you doe desire the death What greater euill may happen vnto the world than to haue the lacke sustaine the losse of such a knight as thou art Consider our good Lord that if you doe performe this which you saie you will you doe not alonelie loose your life but also your soule for in conclusion it is a desperate death For the loue of God our good Lord let not such things passe once into your thought for that no man in all the world can imagine a thing of a worser determination and héerein you shall also loose both bodie and soule and shall be the occasion of the death of the Emperour Trebatio your father and of the Empresse Briana your mother for as they doe loue you more than themselues they will die with verie anger and griefe when they shall heare of your perdition vnto none it wil be so griouous as vnto the Empresse Claridiana who is the occasion of all this your sorrow What shall we doe vnhappie as we are when that wée shall finde our selues all alone without your companie How can we returne vnto Grecia when that the subiects doth lacke their so greatâ— estéemed Prince With what semblance or countenance can we come in the presence of your Father not daring to declare the losse and death of his sonne Ought not we greatlie to be sorrowfull to thinke how our hearts must be hardned that when your brother and friends shall demaund of newes of you and we knowing the conclusion dare not be so hardie as to vtter it What is he that can suffer so great griefe or dissemble so great sorrow God forbid that euer anie such thing shoulde bée permitted wée will first consent to bée drowned in this déep sea than to returne into Grecia without your companie And if you doe still contend to goe a land on that Iland of the diuellish Fauno we will goe with you and beare you companie for that wée shall thinke our deaths happie to loose them with yours and had rather ioyntly to die with you than to liue one moment in this worlde for to lament and feele the griefe of your death These and many other thinges in effect sayd these good Squires shedding many salt teares for to withdrawe their Lord the knight of the Sunne from his determination but all did profit nothing for although it was great anguish and mortall griefe vnto him for to depart from them yet was he so firme in his determination to accomplish that which he had said that if all the whole world had bene there present for to disswade him yet had they not ben sufficient for to withdrawe him from the doing thereof And therewithall he requested the Mariners to launch out their skiffe on the water But when the Mariners and all those knightes of Candia did vnderstand his determination and sawe how pittiâ—ullie his Squires did wéepe for him they were greatly amazed thereat and thought him to be a desperate knight and one that was wearie of his life that wold giue attempt to so strange aduenture hauing heard the wonderfull thing that the olde Pilot had tolde them of that Iland who beeing there present saw with what determination he wold goe vnto the Iland and with what efficacie he dyd demand the skiffe for to goe a land before them all hée sayde these wordes I greatlie meruaile at you Sir knight hauing heard the wonderfull things that I haue tolde vnto you of this Iland of the diuell and yet you haue so great will to go thether of truth I cannot iudge that it doth procéede of anie strength or couragious heart but of some desperation that you haue with you whereby you doe abhorre your owne life for that stout and couragious Barons doe neuer put their liues in aduenture but whereas they haue hope to get honour and victorie but that man which doth put himselfe there wheras he doth aduenture no other honour but to die the death it may be wel said y â— it is more of desperatioÌ„ than of force or courage What account doe you make of your owne strength I saie if it be equall with that of Hercules that of Thebano yet were it not sufficient to escape from the hands of that possessed Fauno if once you goe a land and it is well knowen that all the people of the Iland coulde not make anie defence against him although there were amongst theÌ„ more than thrée thousand knights besides other common people verie stout and clubbish and yet will you take vpon you alone the enterprise surelie it is a plaine thing to vnderstand that you will kill your selfe for that you will put your selfe in that aduenture whereas it is impossible to saue your life the which is a thing most abhorred before God and this proceedeth onelie of the lacke of wisedome weaknesse and want of patience and to the contrarie each one where wisedome remaineth with equal hart and valiant courage doth suffer all humane troubles not for euerie little trouble doth straight waies abhorre themselues and so from a little euill fall into another far greater What other thing haue you in al this world that maketh a man more to abhore and hate himselfe and his owne life than afflictions and troubles And it is manifest vnto vs as it is spoken by the wise that troubles appertaineth onelie vnto men Likewise that holie and afflicted Iob saith that for trauailes and troubles man was borne but those which haue no patience nor strength for to suffer aduersities thinketh that al things that doth not fal out according vnto their desire and appetite that they haue iust occasion to desire and procure the death and vpon the sodaine they are in such a rage that for euerie light thing they doe not onelie anger themselues against fortune but also against themselues and that which is worst of all they are out of patience with God that dyd create them vsing against him wordes of greate abhomination as though that if God did not all things vnto their willes then doth he them great iniurie but vnto them that bée wise what state so euer God doth send them they accept it in good part if it bée with prosperitie and ioy they
accept it with a good will and if it bée sadde and sorrowfull they suffer it with suffer it with patience and when that with the occasions they cannot bée merrie then doe they comfort themselues with patience for that there is nothing so comfortable and pleasant as is patience therewith heauie and sorrowfull heartes are made glad and ioyfull wronges are brought to perfection it mollifieth hard hearts do mitigate difficultnesse aspar things it maketh plaine and ceaseth all quarrels and sodaine motions and finallie there is nothing of more quietnes and comfort than is the life of the patient These wéepinges these complaintes these clowdes and stormes that causeth the weake barke of our humane lyfe to bée dashed and broken in péeces against the rockes procéedeth of no other thing but of the follie and impatience of men So that gentle Knight if you dyd suffer with patience the troubles and afflictions of this life considering that in the end there cannot bée found a thing more common amongst men then shoulde no peruerse fortune although it dyd neuer so stronglie assault you bée able to cause you to be wearie abhorre your owne life neyther to goe and put your selfe into the handes of that diuellish Fauno whereas you doe aduenture no other thing but martirdome to your bodie and perpetual condemnation to your soule Let the Lord dispose of thy bodie according vnto his will séeing he made it there is no reason to the contrarie doe not procure to destroie the Castle whereas thou laiedâ—â— neither stone nor timber and no other thing is thine but onelie the compassion Doe not abridge God of that work whereas he did not onelie create the flesh but also bones bloud and spirit And it séemeth vnto me as it is most true that there is no other Lord ouer celestiall and terrestriall things but he that made all things Well then séeing that of our selues we are nothing but all is of God and commeth from him wherfore doe we humane creatures thinke that we may liberallie we all things vnto our 〈◊〉 Curteous Knight if you haue anie sorrowe and griefe possible God doth it to proue you the which although it bée now troublesome vnto you may yet so fall out that another time it will bée profitable and if it bee intollerable it cannot endure long tarrie the voice of the Lord for that hée will call you and make no aunswere before hée call you for that it is determined not onelie the daie but the houre of thy end the which thou oughtest not to abreuiate and cut off for that thou art not able to dilate it for it is impossible There hath béene some that hath taken it before their time thinking thereby to eschue a little briefe and momentarie trouble and drowned themselues in that which neuer shall haue end A mightie King or Lorde leaueth in a Castle or fortresse a lieuetenant to garde and kéepe the same who thinketh that hée doth commit great treason to depart from thence without lisence of his Lorde Why then shall wée not thinke that the treason is farre greater that the soule doth against the king of heauen for to depart from the bodie whereas he put it to be his liefetenant and gard We reade that there was neuer wise man y â— did so euil a fact as dyd Cato in killing of himselfe for that hée woulde not looke Caesaâ— in the face Let not so much bée spoken of you gentle knight it will séeme much worse because you are a Christian and it 〈◊〉 thing prohibited and forbidden by God wheras he saith Thou shalt not kill Why should wée then kill our selues Likewise hée doth bidde vs loue our neighbours as our owâ—e selues Therefore haue a good confidence and trust in all â—â—â—ng for that it is not the part of a 〈…〉 but to beare a good 〈◊〉 vnto the double face of 〈◊〉 and to the contrarie a womans heart that doth yéelde for feare Therefore touching this matter gentle knight I wil saie no more for that vnto them that hath a better vnderstanding than I haue I haue sayd nothing but to put in remembrance Likewise it is néedfull for that if you haue your wittâ—s occupied in passions the same doth blinde the vnderstanding in such sorte that you cannot discerne thinges at hand With this the olde Pilot concluded his talke and although the knight of the Sunne at that time was in better plight to â—ight against fiftie knightes than to take counsaile of one man yet for all that he dyd conceiue well of the wordes of the Patrone as of him that was indued with no lesse wisedome and vnderstanding than with force and strength and for that his determination was so firme to accomplish his desire and againe the knightes that were there present as also the Pilot shoulde not iudge him to be an impâ—tient man and one of â—â—â—all discretion hée said these words following If so bée that the life of man might bée perpetuall and indure for euer as immortall and the soule to die then with great reason ought we to cherish and make much of our bodies and â—â—ie from all such perills as might giue an occasion vnto death for that hée that should so die might certainâ—â—â— account himselfe vnhappie for wheras before hée was some thing he should be conuerted into nothing But as it is a thing naturall to be borne and to die as wise men saith that the entering into the worlde with life is the beginning of death and the same life is the path waie therevnto and wée ought to feare death more than to be borne and we ought to flie from the death yet both of them maketh nature perfect and nothing of necessitie doeth accompanie Nature which ought to be feared and he that doth abhorre and feaâ—â— things naturall it followeth that he should likewise fearâ— abhorre nature which was the occasion of life to be borne sauing if you thinke that in part you ought to praise and in part to despise and abhorre but all men of small discretion doe feare death and I doe not meruaile thereat for that all their felicities is in their bodies the which without al doubt doth end with death and with great reason they doe fearâ— that which they esteeme as their chiefe delight for that humane nature is such that it wil not refuse nor lacke their felicitie but that Baron which is wise couragious â—â—â—â—â—meth of his bodie no more thâ—n of 〈…〉 and hath all his desire set vppon the 〈◊〉 of the â—oule who when it departeth from the bodie maketh no more account but as one that in the morning departeth from an heauie combersome lodging where he remained all night If man dreade death feare is not to be 〈◊〉 for that thâ— soule is immortall cannot die but the bodie onelie is it not 〈◊〉 mans dutie to haue care of his 〈◊〉 and if he feare it procéedeth of follie but yet it is more foolishnesse for to desire the
it was so great and imagining what it should bée shée went that waie but when she came there shée was straunglie amazed to sée the infernall figure of that mishapen beast and yet more horrible and wonderfull it was than héeretofore it hath beene tolde you for that there was no vnderstanding of man that was sufficient to imagine the great deformitie of this beast beeing dead as hée was but the good Princesse had not much time to pervse the great vglinesse of this beast for when shée salve all the armour of the knight of the Sunne there laide vppon the stone and knew them verie well by the straunge and rich worke that was in them her heart was readie to breake with dolour and griefe and almost from her selfelshe fell from her horse downe to the grounde whereas she laie a good while vpon the gréene grasse in a sound and coulde not speake anie one worde but laie as though shée hadde bene dead but within a while after shée came againe vnto her selfe and arose vp and went forthwith vnto the armour and embracing her selfe with them shée vttered these wordes with so great sorrowe and griefe that shée would haue moued anie man to compassion to haue heard her but in especiall when that shée hadde read that which was written vppon the Stone which was in this manner following This is the diuellish Fauno sonne vnto the diuell begotten of Artimaga who was slaine by the knight of the Sunne Prince of Grecia who being determined to leaue the world would conclude and end his daies in this solitarie Iland this was his armour the which he doth leaue héerâ— in signe of the last victorie that hée concluded in his life time When the Princesse had concluded the reading of these lines shée lacked but a little to conclude her ende for that by those wordes shée conceiued that the knight of the Sun was dead especiallie when shée looked about on euerie side and could sée no other signe nor token of him shée conieâ—â—ured euill in â—er owne imagination and hauing net so much force and strength for to suffer that mortall griefe in great rage and anguish of her heart she embraced her self with the armour and sayd OH good knight what is become of thée that in this sort thou hast left thy excellent and precious armour God hath created thée of so great magnamitie aboue all other knightes in the worlde for to leade thy life in the desarts like vnto brute beasts and if it bée so that I am in â—ault and haue béene the occasion of all this euill héere I doe promise and make a vowe vnto thee neuer to depart from hence alone except it be in thy companie héere will I end my sorrowfull dayes héere will I for euer make my bedde on this hard ground and neuer laie my head vpon anie other thing than the harde stones for that with the hardnesse of them I may molliâ—iâ— my harde heart that was so hardned against thâ—e my sustenaunce shall bée no other thing but griefes and sighes and that which I will drinke shall be the teares that distilleth from the fountaines of my eyes and I will not haue anie other companie but alonelie this armour the which so many times and oft hath béene vppon the worthie bodie of that good Knight and defended him from my raging and mortall blowes These shall bée onelie my comfort and the myrrour whereon I will looke for that the memorie of them shall euerie moment increaâ—e my heauie dolour I will wander all alone in these desarts lyke the Turtle doue that hath lost her louing mate and giue shrikes in this wildernesse lyke vnto Narhâ—o to see if thou wilt aunswere mée as the Nymph Eco dyd aunswere him These and many other thinges spake the Princesse tormenting her selfe with exceeding greate anguish and griefe Then in the end of halfe an houre that she was there shee remembred how that the wise Artidon had tolde her that she should finde him in that Iland yet she doubted verie much of his life to see all that she hadde seene before although by that remembrance thee 〈◊〉 some hope Likewise shee called vnto her remembrance that hee sayde that shée should make hast in his demaund for that it might so fall out that his comfort might come to late by reason that he was brought into so great 〈◊〉 and daunger of his lyfe which doubt brought her 〈◊〉 so greate conâ—â—sion that hee heart sayled her and it 〈◊〉 that thee had neyther force nor strength sufficient for to 〈◊〉 anie farther forwardes but as ended dyd verie well beholâ—e that diuellishe and infernall Fauno to see how that râ—gorous battaile was 〈◊〉 shee sawe the greate and wonderfull horne that was broken off from his head and his scull broken all to péeces and his great and mightie clubbe lying thereby whereby she dyd vnderstand howe and after what manner he was slaine and giuing a greate and deepe sigh the sayde as followeth Oh excellent knight howe worthie are thy déedes to bee published throughout all the worlde and with great reason the déedes of all other knightes ought to bee put to silence and neuer more to bée spoken of for the worthinesse of thy deeds being so excellent as they are so manie and of so great admiration and dispearsed abroade in so many Countries that they cannot be séene neither be hearde of and those which doth not sée them how can they beléeue them Héere I doe desire the vniuersall creator that now neyther in the times to come they may not bée forgotten After that this royall Princesse had sayde these wordes in the praise of her knight shée departed from thence and began to goe and to séeke him and for that shée could not finde him there aboutes she woulde haue mounted vppon her horse to séeke farther into the Iland but it fell out whether it was with the feare of the Fauno or for to goe with the horse Cornerino by anie meanes shée could not take her horse but he fled from that place with so great swiftnesse that in a short space the Princesse lost the sight of him for the which shée receiued great griefe so by force shée was constrained a foote to goe and séeke her knight the which she dyd on euerie side but coulde finde no mention of him which caused in her great suspition to thinke verilie that he was dead so that many times she staied and was so troubled thâ—â— shée thought verilie shée should haue dyed with sorrowe In this 〈◊〉 shée passed all the daie and all the night till the next daie in the morning and neuer coulde finde the knight of the Sunne with so great sorrow and griefe as though her soule would depart from her bodie And for to tell you what passed with him the Hystorie doth leaue her till time doth serue The life which the knight of the Sunne lead in the solitarie Iland and how hee was found by his Ladie the Princesse Claridiana Chapter
Alicandro could not doe and according therevnto they answered and said Of truth Sir Knight your great bountie and courtesie is such that we should accompt our selues for happie for to know you and therby to serue you and to haue you in that estimation as your great worthinesse doth deserue and wée doe giue you great thankes for the trauaile and perill from the which you haue deliuered vs. Your bountie and worthinesse is such so farre forth as I haue seeme saide the knight of the Sunne that of your selues you are a sufficient securitie to deliuer you from all perill neuerthelesse if I haue done any thing it was nothing but by vertue of your great courtesie considering the great villanie vsed by that knight And in that you doe require for to know my name I doe most heartely desire you that for this present you would not request the same for that it is not in my power for to declare it vnto you till such time as I haue accomplished and perfourmed a promise the which I haue made vnto yonder knight who came with mée Then they séeing that he hadde no will for to declare who he was but to kéepe himselfe in secrete would not importâ—ne him anie more for the 〈◊〉 and 〈…〉 themselues that it could be 〈…〉 the knight of the Sunne and that constrained through some great occasion he would not suffer himselfe to be 〈◊〉 and the more to prouoke him therevnto they â—fted vp the beauers of their helmes in such sort that the knight of the Sâ—nne did knâ—w them and was verie glad thereof for that hée had them in great estimation although at that time he woulde not giue them â—o vnderstand in anie wise that he dyd knowe them In all this time the Princesse Claridiana receiued great contentment in that which the knight of the Sunne hadde done and all foure together did put themselues to beholde the cruell contention and rigorous battaile that was betwixt the valiant knight Rosicleer and the gran Campion who at the great noise of the last blowe that the knight of the Sunne gaue vnto Bramarant did aparte themselues from their battaile to sée what it shoulde bée and they sawe the mightie Pagan cleane voide of anie remembrance and his horse carrying him into the thickest of all that wildernesse Then Rosicleer meruailing greatlie at that knight for that he had so great power for to bring him into that perplexitie made no more a doe but retourned vnto his battaile whose blowes were so many and of great force and strength that it was a wonder to beholde and for that it was more than foure houres since the battaile was begun the graâ— Campion waâ—ed wearie and it séemed that Rosicleer had somewhat the vantage of him but yet with y â— exceding great griefe which he receiued to sée his sonne Bramarant carried by his hoâ—se in that sorte he waâ—ed therewithall so wrathfull and furious that he neither felt trauaile nor wearinesse and charged Rosicleer with such a multitude of blowes that many times he did astonish and amaze him but yet in the ende the cruell destinie of this Gran Campion was such and againe for that his cruell death was ordained from aboue the ire of that worthie and valiant Rosicleer so encreased in him that with a mortall furie he stroke so mightie a blow at Bradaman ouerthwart his wast that he made him decline on the other side almost from himselfe and being in this sorte almost out of his saddle his euill fortune was such that in his stouping he discouered a naked place vnder his arme whereas was no other defence but his shirt of mayle the which being séene by Rosicleer being very desirous to make an ende of that long contencion he thrust at him with the point of his good sword with so great force and strength that he made his sword to enter vp to the harde hiltes and pulling it out all blodied the Gran Campion fel from his Elephant downe to the ground and within a little while after he yelded his soule vnto the Diuell who had deceiued him in the blinde law of his false gods Oh false and weake foundation of man for that they which are most endewed with corporall force doth thinke their liues in most securitie without respecting that contrarie vnto the confidence which they haue in their great strengthes fortune doth double hers and that many tymes with great anger for that he doth finde no equall contemner And for to shew what a weake animall man is with an vnsemely weake and hidden euell be the mightie great Gyants ouerthrowen As he that slew Hercules was very little who was he that had the victorie in all things Likewise Milo the stoutest amongst men an Oke dyd staye him so that he was torne in péeces with wilde beastes so that wée may saye that that force the which was without comparison was lesse then a clouen Oke what doeth he think then to doe that is but of a meane strength what doth he think to haue his lyfe in more securitie and to be more aparted from the lyght and mouable whéele of Fortune then was this stout and fierce Bradaman Campion the most valiant and mightiest of all Gyants one that hadde force and strength for to bringe in subiection those fierce and indomable people of the whole compasse of the Orientall Ilandes and yet at this present he lacked strength for to defend himselfe from one alone knight of a great deale lesse stature than he was of who with one alonelie blow he slew him and dyd abate his pâ—ide the which many thousands of Gyants could 〈…〉 Likewise mortall men doe thinke and doe boast themselues more of vertue than of valiantnesse or strength for that alone the force of the soule in that which receiueth no strength cannot be ouercome neither hath fortune anie power against it and as it is placed in the soule it hath no néede of anie corporall strength and according vnto the saying of the wise Lyâ—gandeo and Artemidoro they were not so much moued by the high knighthood and mortall conflicts of these two so worthie Princes for to write this mightie Hystorie as they were by their great vertues and excellencie of courage and gallant demeanours the which in all their life times did shine in them for which cause saie they they were more esteemed and had greater fame than for the great force and strength which they had and alwaies they did estéeme themselues and delighted more in vertue than in their strength and therefore these wise men saie that if this mightie Hystorie be pleasant and delightfull vnto the readers so shall it be no lesse profitable vnto them that with great care and diligence will note and consider well how these knightes were giuen vnto vertue all their lyfe times Thus as it is verie profitable and necessarie for the taking out of anie worke to haue a patterne before him euen so likewise it is no lesse necessarie and
sorrowful newes vnto all them especiallie when they vnderstoode of the death of the Gran Campion and how that their valiant and worthie knightes did euerie daie decrease and waxe fewer in number on their part and how that on the part of the Emperour â—rebatio they dyd increase euâ—rie daie more more yet was all this nothing in comparison vnto that griefe which the fayre Princesse Lyndabrides felt when she vnderstoode how that the knight of the Sunne in companie with the Princesse Claridiana was come into Constantinople vnderstanding verilie that he was continuallie with her in presenceâ— all the time that he was absent out of Grecia and how that he had taken her to be his wife It cannot bée heere rehearsed the greaâ— griefe and exceeding anguish the which the felt within her selfe in such sort that many times shée was readie to die therewith and putting her selfe in a closet by it selfe in her tent she dyd nothing but wéep complaining against her selfe and fortune and after that many contrarie thoughtes had occupied her minde and senses fighting one against an other without finding anie comfort or case in thinking of them with great wrath and anguish of heart shée tooke paper and Inke and with her owne hand shée wrote a Letter vnto the knight of the Sunne the contents were as followeth A Letter written by the Princesse Lyndabrides vnto the knight of the Sunne IF the diuine Gods and my cruell destinie had permitted that as I am constrained to loue thée I might I 〈◊〉 had so much libertie for to forget thée then had not I returned againe into Grecia neither had consented that the Emperor my Father with so infinite a number of people had enterâ—d into this Countrie for to be reuenged of thée for that it had béene a sufficient reuengement and satisfaction vnto mée for to leaue thée and not to thinke that I was shée that was of thée forgotten but to leaue thée as one â—nworthie of my great beautie not deseruing to inioy my emperiall and consecrated estate But oh my euill fortune and mishap which caused mée so firmlie to loue and beare thée good will that there remaineth no part within mee but it is yeelded to bée all thine neither haue I so much power as for to put thée one moment out of my remembrance I knowe not what cruell and vniust lawe is this of Loue for the more that thou diddest vnderstand and know that I did loue thée thou haddest the greater libertie for to forget mée and the more that thou wert cruell and forgetfull of mée the more did my loue and good will increase towardes thée I am aduertised that thou and the Empresse Claridiana are come together to Constantinople the companie of so worthie a Damsell is not to be left neither is there anie reason to speake euill of her but for her that doth loue thée as I doe it cannot bée without suspition for that my sorrowfull heart hath deuined it and mine eyes doth now sée that thou doest desire her to bee thy wife and shée is not displeased therewith but when that I doe imagine with my selfe what thou hast bâ—ne and consider lykewise what thou nowe art I cannot thinke anie other thing but that there are two knightes called of the Sunne in this world and that thou art another and not the same that was wont to bee all at my commaundement Is it possible that thou art hee who at the first time that thou diddest beholde mée in my triâ—mphant Chariot â—ert troubled in such sort that if thou haddest not been succoured by thy Page and my Damsell thâ—u haddest follen from thy horse vnto the ground Art thâ—u by fortune that same knight of the Sunne that for to defende my iustice thou tookest vpon thée that strong and perilloâ—s contention with the Prince Meridian 〈◊〉 brother 〈…〉 not bee that thou shouldest bee that knight of 〈◊〉 Chariot that diddest so long time defend the great and singular beautie of the Princesse Lyndadrides in the Court of the Emperour Trebatio Of truth it must néedes bée some other that did shew so great and entire loue vnto mée and so absolutlie dyd publish himselfe to bée all and whâ—lie at my commaundement What is become of those amorous and swéete wordes that thou wert wont to vtter and speak vnto mée and those deepe and profound sighes with the which thou gauest mee to vnderstand the greate griefe that thou receiuedst for my loue Is it possible that thou hast forgot thy selfe or hast thou lost thy wits and memorie With what great ioy and contentment thou wentest in my companie towards the gran Tartaria hoping at thy comming thether to be married vnto me and how many times I was required of thée in that iourney Hast thou forgotten that for the celebrating of our nuptials thou diddest cause in the gran Catâ—ya to bée ioyned together all the kings and mightie Lords almost all the Pagans how that my father the Emperour Alyâ—andro had receiued thée for his sonne and all his subiects for their Lorde Of truth I doe verilie beléeue that all this thou hast forgotten and doest not remember anie of these things of the which I doe not greatlie meruaile for that hee who did forget the lawe of the diuine Gods and doth renounce the same it is not much that hée doe forget and denie all this that betwixt him and mée hath passed My verie heart doth cleaue and part a sunder and my soule is readie to depart my bodie with great griefe when that I doe thinke thereof and the great abundance of water that dailie distilleth from my eyes doth declare and testifie that it cannot indure long but that my life will likewise distill and consume awaie the which I do beséech the immortall Gods that it might shortlie come to passe for it shall bée vnto me a great glorie to lacke lyfe rather than to féele such excéeding great anguish and mortall paine I woulde write vnto thée more at large for according vnto the great reason the which I haue to complaine my selfe of 〈◊〉 although I dydde nothing else in two dayes yet should I haue matter inough against 〈…〉 thinges which doth withdrawe my handes and my will not to consent that I shall doe it the one is that they who haue borne thée so much good will and loued thée as I haue done it is not good for to inlarge much with anger for that vttering with passion causeth for to saie that which after doth repent them the other for whereas doth lack loue and good will many times briefe reasons doth séeme large and prolixious the third is for that I doe know that all whatsoeuer I shall write vnto thée thou wilt stoppe thy eares thereat so that all my writing shall bée in vaine and therefore I am determined to bée quiet and holde my peace and conclude with this that either the bones of this sorrowfull and vnfortunate Princesse Lyndabrides shall remaine in Grecia or else