CHAP. I. How Persicles was created King of Assyria, and travailed into Per­sia, to the Marriage of his sister Piera, to the Emperours Sonne Deloratus. How he was enamoured of Constantia: and returned into Assyria.

AN ancient King named Pius, ruled the Land of Assyria in great peace: as well Fortunate by the loue of his Subjects, and other outward blessings, as with two faire children, a Sonne and aDaugh­ter, that after his death should succéed in that Em­pire, And by reason Age was now so much growne vpon him, that he found himselfe wearied, and vnable to exercise the care that belongeth to the government of so mighty a Nation: also beholding in his Sonne, more then ordinary grauity, and so forward a mind to vertue, as that he might well commit a matter of such weight to his care: he determined to giue himselfe to rest, which well agréed with his Age, and therefore caused all the Péeres of his Land to be assembled.

Which being effected, and all set in Parliament, the olde King uttered his minde: which was, to establish his Sonne Persicles in the Kingdome. The Péeres before that, as well by common re­port, as of their owne experience having perfect knowledge of his manifold vertues, gaue their generall consents: And so Persicles within few dayes was crowned King.

Pius having effected this according to his mind, yet could not b [...] [Page] at quiet vntill he had provided a marriage for his daughter, befitting her estate. To further which good intent, it fortuned that Delo­ratus Son and heyre to the King of Persia, hearing of Pieraes beau­ty (for so was she called) came into the Country of Assyria, and by long sute, at last obtained her good will, and her fathers consent: being assured to her in the presence of most of his Péeres, but for that certaine conditions were to be ratified by the King his Father, the solemnization of the marriage was deferred vntill that was per­formed: and for that time should not belong protracted, which Deloratus with earnestness hastened. Persicles with the consent of his Father, accompanied his Sister Piera into Persia, attended by a number of Gallant Knights, as well to sée the conditions rati­fied, and the marriage performed, as also to doe Deloratus honour▪ After their departure, they within few dayes arrived in the King­dome of Persia, where Persicles and Piera were most honourably entertained by the olde King Torsilus, and the conditions ra­tified.

The Solemnization of the marriage was deferred for certaine dayes, for that the King of Persia determined to haue the same per­formed with gr [...]at pompe, whether he invited many of his Neigh­bouring Kings, as of Arabia, Natolia, and Thessalia. The knights of Persia made preparation to attend the Bridegroome in great royalty.

Persicles being in the Persian Court, hearing what Gallants were likely to be at the wedding, prepared most rich Ornaments against that day, determining not to be the last in tryall of his va­lour at the Tilt. The prefixed day being come, the King of Ara­bia, Natolia, Thessalia, and many other Princes of great Estate, with them were arrived, and the City was filled with such a num­ber of knights and Gallants, that there was scarce roome therein to containe them. To recite every particular of their entertaine­ments, gréetings, riches, and what gallant Ladies were with them▪ would be overtedious: but in briefe, there was such royall entertainment as befitted such Personages, and such a multitude of rare shewes, and fine devices, as might every way please a curious beholder.

The Marriage being past, the sumptuous Banquets ended, [Page] and the Estates set to behold the Tilt: The first that entered the Lists, was a Persian Duke, named Osimus, gallantly mounted and a man of goodly proportion: After whom, followed the rest of the Persian Knights, who were all Challengers against all strangers that came to make tryall of their Valour. Next came the adverse part, the foremost of which was Persicles, who appea­red in Richnesse, according to the dignity of his place, being King of so mighty a Country as Assyria: whose sight led the beholders in admiration of his evident perfection. After whom followed Nonlus Prince of Natolia, and after him a number of most gal­lant Knights, so richly adorned, as would haue perswaded a coward­ly miscreant to haue become valiant: whose particular description I omit.

As Persicles was chiefe of the adverse part, and Duke Osimus of the Persians, so they two beganne the encounter, breaking of staues with excéeding valour: but Osimus intending to winne the chiefest honour, for that he was estéemed the best Knight in Persia, had provided staues of tough Wood, which would not start with an easie encounter: one of which hée tooke, and ranne the fourth time at Persicles, who vnprovided of such an vnexpected assault was overturned: and his Stéed tumbling, fell vpon him, that with the fall he for a time remained without sence. The King of Per­sia and the rest, being excéedingly afraid that he was slaine, came running off the Scaffolds to take him vp, carrying him forth of the Lists, to be vnarmed: Amongst the rest, his sister Piera vsed her vttermost diligence to recover him with whom likewise, were a number of gallant Ladyes to assist her: but chiefly the Quéene of Persia, and her youngest Daughter Constantia, as more regarding him, by reason he was Brother to Piera, and most of all lamented his mishap.

Persicles finding himselfe somewhat recovered, at the first ope­ning his eyes, fixt them on Constantia, which by reason hée was not fully reuiued, stood still fixt vpon the first object, as it were with affectionate earnestnesse, which caused an excéeding blush to rise in her chéekes.

But now séeing such a number about him, he was amazed and halfe ashamed of his foyle, said: I beséech you leaue me to my selfe; and sée [Page] the rest of the Turnaments, for I haue no harme. With that he star­ted vpon his féet, and fetching a déepe sigh departed. They were all excéeding glad of his safety: and so leauing him to be attended by his owne knights, they departed to the Scaffolds, and againe tooke their places to behold the rest of the Turnament.

Persicles was excéedingly vexed, that he had received such a dis­grace, and in the presence of such and honorable assembly: most of all for that he vnderstood Osimus intent: presently buckled on one of his Knights Armor [...], and mounting himselfe, entred the Lists againe, by which time, the Tilt was almost ended, and the Persian Knights bare away the prize; but Persicles then vnknowne, stood ready at the Races end, for the next encounter: against whom a Persian Knight ran, but so farre to his disgrace, that he tumbled with his héeles vp­wards. With that euery one began to wonder what he should be, and the people gaue an excéeding shout: with that the other Persian met with him, whose fortune was much like the former. For his Stéed trumbling with the strength of the Encounter, they both fell downe. A Knight of Persia who that day had wonne great honor by his valor, séeing that, would néeds be the next to méete him, thinking to revenge his Countrymans disgrace: but at the first race he could not performe it, for they past by without any other oddes, but brea­king their staues most gallantly. And running againe, the Persians Fortune was so bad, that he was overthrowne. By this time the day was ended, and the Iudges ready to depart: but Osimus intrea­ted that he might break one staffe with the strāger, which they gran­ted. Whom Persicles well knew, resolutely determined to giue or take the foyle, both of them méeting with such terror, that the Earth séemed to shake, and Osimus (notwithstanding all his strength) was by Persicles overthrowne to salue his h [...]nor, and requite his discour­tesie. With that the people gaue such shouts, as made all the Pal­lace ring with the sound. And Persicles discovered himselfe, which made every one rejoyce, and wonder at his valour.

Persicles being vnarmed, accompanied the King of Persia, Nato­lia, and the rest, having that day wonne such honour as made him more highly estéemed: and comming to salute his sister Piera hée suddenly espyed Constan [...]ia: thinking he had before séene that swéet countenance, but he could not remember where, which cast him into [Page] such a déepe study, that he almost forgat himselfe. After he had salu­ted the rest he came to Constantia, to whom he said. Faire Lady ei­ther I haue beheld your Beauty, and that swéet countenance in some other Countrey, or in some vision, for my mind perswadeth me, I should perfectly know you: for I am sure this is not the first time I haue séene you, which maketh me thus bold to demand of whence you are, if it be not offensiue vnto you. Sir (replyed Constantia) it may be, I am but an imperfect shadow of her you so perfectly remem­ber; for vntill this day I never saw you, which maketh me suppose, you doe but take an occasion of course to commend me, that deserue no such matter, neither shall you offend me: nor I deny to shew my Birth, being Daughter to the King of Persia, but for many yeares brought vp in Arabia. Pardon my boldnesse (quoth Persicles) for I would not offend you, neither doe I thinke you a shadow, but a per­fect substance, and not to resemble any but your selfe: for there can be no Beauty that excelleth yours, which mine eyes before this time haue beheld: or else Nature it selfe hath imprinted in my heart an es­sentiall distinct of deuotion thereto, which perswadeth me to this boldnesse: therefore I humbly desire you not to misconceiue me, nor estéeme me of so rude a disposition, as to speake otherwise then my heart thinketh: and to account of me as one that earnestly desireth to be better acquainted with you, and will endeavour to make you a­mends for any offence giv [...]n, offering my selfe and all that is mine, to be at your disposition: which said, he left off further spéech, for he saw others attend to heare what he said.

At night Constantia being in her private Chamber, called to re­membrance Persicles spéeches, which made her maruell why he should say, he had before that séen her, which she knew could not be: but re­membring how earnestly he beheld her that day, when he was scarce reuiued frō his trance, she thought that sight might bréed such a per­swasion in him, which was so indéed: withall, she called to mind, his comelinesse, valour, estate, and courtesie, which she had before noted: all which remembrances made her so much forget all other thoughts that a great part of the night was vnawares overpast: and after she had reuiued her sences, she felt such an alteration, as all that night she could not rest, delighting in nothing so much as to remem­ [...]er him. The like did Persicles, for her Beauty and other outward [Page] graces, had pierced so neare his heart, that he was enthralled to her Loue, and resolued to winne it.

Earely the next morning he got vp, séeking all occasions to speake to her againe, but he was disappointed all the forenoone. For she by reason of her little rest in the night, kept her Chamber, and after [...]in­ner, accompanied the Quéene her mother, and the other Ladies whereby he was that day disappointed. The next morning likewise he arose, studying which way to come to her spéech, for his affection was so great, as no thought contented him but her remembrance; but before he could bring to passe what he most desired, there arriued Messengers from Assyria, certifying him that his Father was de­ceast, and that their ancient enemy the king of Armenia had en­tred his Land, and destroyed many of his Subiects, desiring him in all hast to returne; For in his absence the Assyrians seemed like men without courage.

Persicles hearing the vnexpected newes, was excéedingly asto­nisht, both with desire to saue his Countrey, and also to prosecute his Loue: the one perswading him to stay, the other to hasten his depar­ture: The one being as deare to him as his life, the other as deare, as both Life, Countrey, and all: for without obtaining of that, he thought he could not liue, being so much perplexed, that he could not resolue what to doe: At last the speciall regard of his Country ouer­came his heart, and reuiued him with a manly courage to reuenge, that he Commanded all things to be prepared for his sudden depar­ture, and going to his Chamber, he got Pen and Inke, and wrote as followeth:

Hauing wrote this Letter, he found out his sister Piera, to whom he said as followeth. Deare sister, the sorrowes that cause my depar­ture, come so suddenly, as that I cannot stand long to conferre with you; therefore for that I build vpon assurance of our loue, secrecy, and assistance, I will vnfold to you the secrets of my heart, and that which none but your selfe should know. So it is that Constantiaes beau­ty hath bewitched mine eyes, and I remain so much inthralled there­to, that vnlesse she pitty me, I am but cast away. I desire your assi­stance herein, whereby you may preserue my life. I haue wrote this Letter vnto her, which I desire you to deliver: and withall to vse such spéeches on my behalfe, as shall séeme best to your wisedome: for I assure you, vnlesse at my returne, which shall be shortly, I find her favourable, my sorrowes will shorten my dayes. Then good sister shew your loue to me in this, and in my absence giue her knowledge of my loyalty, which shall make me everlastingly thankefull vnto you. Piera promised her vtmost assistance, and so with many feares of her side, they parted.

The newes of his departure was soone spred through the whole Court, and likewise came to Constantias hearing, who left her cham­ber, and gat into her mothers company, where she thought to haue a [Page] sight of him, which some small sparkes of Loue that were kindled in her tender breast, procured her vnto. After all farewels were past, he espyed her in the company of other Ladies, to whom he came, and one­ly amongst y ^• rest of them all, took his leaue of her with a swéet kisse, breathing forth a bitter sigh at the parting, which euery one noted: Some taking the same in disdaine, and others marvelling that he re­garded her aboue them all. Which made the blood rise in Constantiaes chéekes, and the waterswell in her eyes.

CHAP. II. How Helyon Prince of Arabia, crost the love betweene Persicles and Constantia. Of a battell fought betweene Persicles, and the King of Armenia. And how disguising himselfe, he travelled into Persia, and how he discovered himselfe to Constantia.

HIs departure caused a sadnesse throughout the Court, for indéed he was the beauty thereof, so excellent was his person, and so commendable his qualities. Piera betaking her selfe to her Chamber, lamented his absence with priuate teares, vntill Deloratus found her out, and cau­sed her with his comfortable spéeches, to giue o­uer that griefe. The King of Natolia likewise with most of the Nobles and Knights that came to the Solemniza­tion of the Wedding were departed, except Prince Helyon, sonne to the King of Arabia. The occasion of, whose stay, was to craue Con­stantia in marriage, assuring himselfe of her Loue, by reason of the familiarity that was betwixt them in her fathers Court: which in­déed by her former kindnesse he might be in some assurance off, though not by any promise she had made him: which motion hée made to the King of Persia, who estéeming so honourably of him re­garding his Birth, and most of all, desiring to be allyed to the Ara­bian King, gaue his consent, which was fully concluded and agréed vpon, before it came to Constantiaes knowledge.

Prince Helyon having his assurance, with a merry heart sought out Constantia, entending to reveale the same to her: and according [Page] to his wonted kind of Familiarity, began to gréet her: In whom he found such an alteration, that he wondred thereat, saying: My deare Constantia, this vnexpected vnkindnesse in you, whom I e­stéeme as my most chosen Friend, maketh me admire, whereas I had thought to haue enjoyed your loue without interruption. Vp­on confidence of your courtesie, I haue moved your Fathers consent to our Marriage, who hath yéelded thereto: then I beséech you dar­ken not both your and my joyes, with these Misty clouds of care, which will fill my heart with sorrow: but rather increase your kind­nesse, to both mine and your comfort. Constantia's countenance be­wrayed the angry motions of her heart, incensed by his spéeches, that we had much adoe to withhold her eyes from shedding teares: yet with a colour as red as Scarlet, she gaue him this answer. Prince Helyon, if that be true which you tell me, I cannot chuse but won­der at your folly, that would without assurance of my Loue, make such a motion: thinke you my affections are to be limitted according to your disposition? For my part, I disclayme such interest, and re­nounce such Affection: for I never intended any such matter, nor ever did you demand the same. Then my Lord be you satisfied for this, for I never yet did, nor will giue my consent.

Helyon hearing her answere, was nipt on the head, being strooke with such griefe, that he could not tell what to say. But at last reply­ed. Constantia, I confesse I haue done you wrong, in adventuring so farre without your consent, but yet for that I haue not thereby either dishonoured your Name, or otherwise injured you, I humbly craue pardon, desiring you to ratifie that which I haue by your for­mer courtesies assured my selfe of: and let not my overboldnesse alie­nate any part of your good will. For you know my affections haue remained inviolable constant many yeares: and I haue attended your liking with such feruency, as you may be resolutely assured of my truth. Then I beséech you be not now displeased with mée, but according to your wonted kindnesse, accept me into your favour.

My Lord (replyed she) I cannot deny but that your good will hath excéeded my deserts, for which I thanke you: and withall, that I haue alwayes estéemed you, which likewise I would haue done still: But now that opinion is altered, neither can I be induced to con­ceiue well of him that would doe me such manifest injury as you haue [Page] done. Therefore I pray be contented with that fauour you haue had, for my affections are otherwise employed, and my heart vtterly disa­gréeing to the motion you haue made. With that shée espyed Piera in the Garden comming towards her, to whom she went downe, sa­luting her most kindly. Piera thought now to haue delivered her Persicles Letter, but by reason that there were divers in their com­pany, she could not then performe it. After a while they left each o­ther, Piera returning to her Chamber, and Constantia into a secret place of the Garden where she vttered these meditations. What contrarious disquiets are these possesse the center of my heart? what inconveniences am I like to run into? and how shall I avoyd blame for the one, and reape content by the other? How vnkindly hath Prince Helyon vsed me, to make this motion to my Father, whose disposition must not be crost, without hazard of much disquiet? My kindnesse to him, hath caused his over-fond conceit of himselfe, and brought me into much trouble: I could haue loved him before I came to the sight of Persicles, whose guifts are so farre excéeding his, that whereas my heart loved him, the thought of that Loue is now most grievous. Wherein I may doe my selfe great wrong: for in hope of his affection, I refuse Helyons loue, which may depriue me of both, purchase my Fathers heavy displeasure, and my owne perpetuall discontent, Reuoluing a Chaos of these, and such like confused cogi­tations, which overcame her sences with their ambiguity, in a heavy and discontented vaine she went to her Chamber, thinking there to consider of every particular at the full: where we found Piera all alone, staying her comming in, who soone espyed that Constantia had wept, whereupon she tooke occasion to say as followeth. My beloved Sister, I am sorry to sée you in this heavy and sadde vaine, alwayes finding you either sad or wéeping, which maketh me wonder; and de­si [...]ous to know the cause, as one willing in any sort to counsell you, and comfort you with my vttermost assistance, I haue of purpose entred your Chamber, to haue some conference with you in priuate, being a Messenger sent to you by my Brother Persicles, who I know loveth you dearely: who by me humbly commendeth himselfe vnto you, being sorry that his sudden departure was such, that he could not before his going, doe you that Service you doe deserue, and he desired. Withall, he desired me to deliver you this Letter which he left behind, to [Page] testifie the depth of his affection: which at my request vouchsafe to read, and withall credit: for I know his honourable heart endureth much care by his absence. Constantia without making reply received the letter, and read the same: which when she had done, she said: Deare Sister, I thanke you for taking this paines to come to me, and not rather to haue sent for me, that rest at your command▪ And also I thanke that worthy King Persicles, that he will vouchsafe mée such vndeserved favour, as to estéeme well of my vnworthinesse, to whom I am bound in all honorable respect, but how vnfit I am to entertain loue, your selfe would judge, if you knew my estate, which vpon assu­rance of your secrecy I will vnfold. Prince Helion of Arabia, vainely presuming he was assured of my favour, hath asked my Fathers con­sent, to a marriage betwixt him and me, which he hath granted vnto: which the heavens can testifie is vtterly disagréeing to my heart, and altogether without my consent, which he shall never attaine, what danger soever I incurre thereby. Which if Persicles should vnder­stand, would soone alter his mind: Therefore it is best for his quiet not to place his affections on me so vnworthy, but let me alone to en­dure the affliction that is likely to ensue.

I know ( qd Piera) my Brothers Loue is so constant, that nothing can alter the same which he related to me at large: which maketh me testifie y ^• assurance thereof. Which would you but accept of, or giue me some comfortable hope in his absence, I should think my selfe bound to you for ever, and to haue done him an excéeding pleasure: for nothing but the happy tidings of your favour, can comfort him. The King of Persia will not compell you to marry Helion, when he vnderstandeth that you are otherwise bent, for that were cruelty. And I think Helion himselfe beareth not so dishonourable a mind, as to séeke your Loue by constraint▪ for that were inhumanity. But would you yéeld to like of my Brothers loue that is every way as good as y ^• Prince of Arabia, the knowledge thereof would soon make him returne to aske your fa­thers consent, which may peradenture stand as well affected to him as to Prince Helyon. Ay me go. Constantia: sister I néed not doubt to reveale my greatest secrets to you that I know for Persicles sake will conceale them, I confesse without further circum­stances, that I loue that worthy King Persicles, which is the cause of these disquiets: neither did my fancy ever yéeld the least [Page] conceit of liking Helyons loue, which I tooke to be rather groun­ded upon common familiarity, then pretence of Marriage. There­fore now that you are assured of that which you request, I beséech you not to conceiue amisse of my rash confession, nor estéeme my loue light, because of so short continuance, for it shall be immoueable: but rather comfort my poore disquieted heart, with your counsell how to avoyd these inconveniences. And if that worthy King be so af­fected towards me, as your spéeches and his Letter here affirmeth, I would wish his returne might be spéedy: otherwise my sorrowes will be endlesse. For I know my Fathers nature to be such, that whatsoever he will haue, must be performed, though equity would perswade the contrary.

Grieue not so much (quoth Piera,) with premeditated conceit of feare, which peradventure shall never come to passe: I will present­ly send messengers vnto my Brother, which shall carry such newes as will comfort his heart, and cause spéedy returne: in the meane time I will make Deloratus acquainted with Helyons practise, not Persicles Loue, who shall perswade the King all that may be, not to consent to marry you against your minde. Be then of good comfort, and in assurance of Persicles Loyalty, let no feare disquiet your sen­ces, or impaire your health: For things now at the worst may haue a good end. These spéeches ended, they parted.

All this while Prince Helion was meditating how to hasten the Marriage, but most of all to find the cause of Constantias discontent: which he thought was aggravated against him, by some good con­ceit we had lately entertained of some other then himselfe, which made him prosecute the same with more feruency: and dealt so effec­tually with the King, that he swore Constantia should be ruled by him. And thereupon, the next day sent for her, to whom he said:

Daughter, I thinke it is not vnknown to you that I haue promised you in Marriage to Prince Helyon; one that is every way worthy to match with you, both for Noblenesse of Birth, vertuous qualities, and comelinesse of person. Withall, I am given to vnderstand, that you like not our choice, nor estéeme our command: which if you neg­lect▪ you shall not onely displease me, but also loose my favour for ever. For as you are mine, I purpose to dispose of you, but if you refuse my counsell, refuse me too; for I will not regard a disobedient child. The [Page] manifold reasons I could alleadge, that perswade me to the confirma­tion of this Contract, are of such waight, as I might séeme carelesse of your welfare, and your selfe enuious of your owne good, to deny them: therefore let me know your answer.

Constantia well knew that if she denyed▪ hée would be offended; and his froward nature to be so much disposed to wrath, that before she could speake she shooke with feare: yet resolution so hazard the worst, humbling her selfe vpon her knée, she made this answer. My reverend duty to you (most loving Father) perswadeth my consent to fulfill your command, though my Loue bindeth me to the contra­ry: that I stand perplext twixt two extreames: the one, fearing to offend you, the other to procure my everlasting discontent: for in re­fusing to doe according to your will, I shall incurre your indignation, and in performing the same, my everlasting sorrow. For as yet my heart could never yéeld to loue that worthy Prince, who farre too wor­thy to be matcht with me. Most humbly beséeching you to consider, that inforced Loue never bringeth content, but disquiet, which with Helyon, will be my portion: Therefore I beséech you reuoke your determination.

Is it even so (quoth he) shall my command be countervaild by your péevish conceit? Is this the regard you giue to my good will? Are you wiser then I? Or are you willing to displease mée? Shall my will stand at your direction? Is this the duty you owe to your Fa­ther, or feare you no more to offend me? Haue I so carefully brought you vp, and tenderly regarded you for this? Henceforth never come in my sight, for I will not estéeme thée as a Child, but as a bastard: and withall I vow, that if thou dost not yéeld to marry him, vse him kindly, and apply thy devotions to his liking, I will vse thée in such sort, that all Persia shall lament thy case. Having given her this bit­ter reproofe, he departed: leaving her wéeping the fountaines of her precious eyes dry, wringing her hands, and like one in a dead trance, overcome with griefe, cast vpon the Earth. The first that entred the roome was Helyon, who séeing her in that agony, tooke her by the hand to haue raised her from the earth, but she refusing his help, vttered these spéeches. Vntill this time I alwayes estéemed honou­rably of you, but now my good opinion is altered, for that you onely séeke my torment: my Father hath given me charge to Marry with [Page] you, which I must against my heart fulfill: but be assured never to possesse my Loue, for that I haue bequeathed another: onely my outward parts may be yours, but my inward, affections shall conti­nually estéeme you as the onely occasioner of my endlesse miseries. With that shée rose vp from the ground, giving him neither better words, nor other kind behaviour, but left him standing still as one astonisht.

Piera made Constantia's estate knowne to Deloratus, who so farre as he durst, perswaded her Father not to constraine her to marry the Prince: but such wilfulnesse possest him, that the more they in­treated him the more contrarious he was, and therefore appointed the day for the Marriage to be within two moneths. And in the mean time doubting the King of Arabiaes consent, he sent his Ambassadors to that effect.

Piera hearing this, presently sent messengers into Assyria to cer­tifie Persicles of all that had happened: and withall, wrote a Let­ter, which contained the whole summe of Constantia's consent to his Loue. Who with all diligence hasted vntill they arrived there, being presently conducted into his presence: After he had most kindly imbraced them, he demanded how Piera did, and what message they brought from her: whereupon they delivered him the Letters they had brought: which when he had read, commanding his Knights to giue the Messengers honourable entertainment, he departed to his Tent, one way so much comforted and another way so much troubled, that he sate him downe in a déepe study, not yet knowing what to resolue vpon.

When hée had along space meditated with what contrarieties his Fortunes were crost, the danger his Country was in, how likely he was to loose Constantia, and how difficult to attempt her posses­sion, and many other, at last he thought his Life should be nothing without her Loue: and therefore he fully resolved to hazard the same to attaine it: but so vnpossible it séemed which way to accomplish the same: For first the Armenians warre hazarded his Kingdome, whom he could not suddenly expell: Next to attempt to winne her by force, that could not be, for the Persian was too mighty: and lastly, delay might bréed a greater mischiefe then all the rest: that calling vnto him two of his chiefest Nobles, the one named Parenus, a wise [Page] Counsellour, the other Thrureus a Noble Warriour, he vttered his mind to them, saying: I haue sent for you, as the men that I most respect and trust: being determined to commit to your charge the go­vernement of my Kingdome, for that weighty businesse, and such as concernes my everlasting welfare, must for a season withdraw me: and for that I am fully assured of your Loyalty, I will vse no exhor­tations, to perswade you thereto, but to order the same in this sort. Thrureus resembling me much, both in proportion and countenance, shall in my absence possesse my roome, whom the people will assured­ly take to be my selfe, and so governe them with more ease. And you Parenus, by your wisedome order all things according thereto: Thus you know my mind: which I doe not doubt, but you will accomplish in every respect according to my desire. They first intreated him, not to depart, but when they saw nothing could prevaile, they swore that they would faithfully execute what he had given them in charge. Hée likewise telling them that he would depart within thrée dayes, which he deferred so long, by reason that the second day the Armies of the Assyrians and Armenians should méete. Having ended his conference with them he returned to the Messengers that came from Persia, giving Letters to Piera, which gaue her knowledge that hee would be there within few dayes.

The prefixed day for the Batt [...]il was now come and both the Ar­mies met, betwixt whom began so hot and deadly a Fight, that many thousands on both parts lost their lives, and the Armenians gréedy of their Enemies overthrow, followed them so eagerly, that they began to sound a retrait. Persicles séeing that, left the place of his Govern­ment, and with his Lance ready coucht, met an Armenian Duke so full, that hée pierced the same through his body, then drawing his sword, with the same he slew the next, & after him wounded others: that within a while his valour made such a Massacre amongst them, that they avoyded the place of his Fight, and thought themselves best that were furthest of him. Thus valorously did he pursue them, vn­till he was vnawares in the midst of their Army: which advantage the King of Armenia espyed, thinking Persicles life within his power, ran at him with a lance poynted with a stéele, but it mist him: and Persicles séeing him, met him so full with the pommell of his sword against his breast, that had not his Stéed yéelded, he had broken his [Page] backe; with that the Armenians assailed him round about, with such vnequall oddes, being a multitude to one, that sometimes they were thrust so néere vpon him by the throng, that they swayed him vp and downe: Those that came next him dyed by his sword, their dead trunkes falling downe betwixt his Stéeds legges, which made him spring about with such fury, that he soone made them giue way. In the meane time, while the most part of the Battell were bent to de­stroy him, the Assyrians had made such a slaughter amongst the out­wings of the Army, that most of them were slaine, and the rest fled. Thureus fearing Persicles harme, for that he mist him with his fol­lowers, soone found him out, and by that meanes rescued him from amongst the multitude: who by this time had vnhorst him, and hée was constrained to fight on foote, being scarce able to withhold him­selfe from stumbling vpon the dead carkasses of those himselfe had slaine. Thureus soone got him remounted, and then both of them pursued their enemies so fiercely, that they began to fly; and had not the day béene ended, they had béene all destroyed: which caused Persicles to sound a retraite, and befake him to his Tent, having that day done such déeds of Armes, as made both his own subjects and the Armenians admire him.

Early the next morning, word was brought him, his Enemies were all fled, and not any of them to be found in the Campe, having left all their Riches behind them, being glad they had escaped aliue which reioyced Persicles to heare, for that they should be no hinde­rance to his journey, commanding his Souldiers to take the spoyle and to bury the dead: and for that he had received never a mortall wound, he determined the next day to depart, which he acquainted Parenus and Thureus withall, requesting them (if it were possible) not to discover his absence vntill his returne.

Having ordered every thing according to his mind, the next mor­ning he departed, attiring himselfe like a Palmer; with his staffe in his hand, which disguise shadowed him from knowledge, that he past his owne Court Gates, vndiscryed: which assured him, that if his owne subjects and servants knew him not, much lesse would stran­gers, that he passed without feare of being discovered. In this sort did he travell, thinking it no penance to take paines to find out his Loue, vntill he arrived in Persia, yet not knowing which way to ac­complish [Page] his intent, or to come to spéech eyther of Piera or Con­stantia, for that he was a Stranger, being denyed to enter the Court gates, where he stayed attending his good Fortune, some thrée dayes: but as farre from hope then, as at his first comming: that he was so much tormented in his thoughts, that he could not tell what to doe. The next day he heard that the King should goe foorth on Hunting, which made him presently suppose (for that the Parke was so néere the Court) the Ladies likewise would sée the pastime, hoping by some odde meanes or other, to giue one of them know­ledge of his arriuall, that he wrote a Letter, the contents whereof were these.

The next day, according to his hopes, the King and Quéene Dela and Piera, Helyon and Constantia, and many other came foorth whom Persicles soone espyed: and well noting Constantiaes coun­tenance, perceiued the same so darkened, as if she had béene fully possest with discontent. Who comming néere him (for he stood so as they must passe by him) casting her eyes vpon him beheld him so earnestly, that she almost forgate her selfe, feeling her heart to throb with vnwonted motion, that she let fall her rich Scarffe, most curi­ously imbroydred, which occasion Persicles soone espyed, as awayting such an opportunity, tooke vp the Scarffe, and with great ren [...]rence gaue it her, conueying the Letter therein so closely, that she soone espyed the same: wherewith her heart began to pant, and viewing the superscription, found it directed to her, or Piera: that closely she put the same in her bosome, lest Helyon or any else shou [...]d [...]spie it, vntill she could And opportunity to reade it. By this time, the game was rowzed, and all but she alone followed the pastime with earnestnesse: which [...]e beholding, withdrew her selfe with one of her [Page] Ladyes, and read the Letter through which affected her heart with such joy and feare, that sometimes her heart leapt with the one, and her Eyes stood ready to overflow with teares with the other. Pre­sently fo [...]lowing the company vntill she overtooke Piera, to whom she said: Sister, did you not behold the Palmer that stood in the way, as we came by the Pallace wall? Yes (quoth she) and doe you not know hi [...], said Constantia? It is your Brother Persicles.

With that Piera smiled, saying: How can that be: or what ma­keth you thinke so? With that she pull'd out the Letter, and bad h [...]r reade it: W [...]ich when she had done, she sayd: Constantia, hee is worthy to be kindly vsed, having travailed so farre on foote to sée vs. Yea (quoth Constantia) how may we come to speake with him? Or how may we giue him that Welcome his Worthinesse deser­veth? That for my vnworthy sake, hath vndertaken to hazard his Royall person in travell? Let me alone (quoth Piera) and the better to avoyd suspition, vse Hel [...]on some what more kindly then heretofore you haue done, that his minde may be vo [...]d of jealousie: for I per­c [...]iue when you come in any place or company, he hath a diligent and vigilant eye over you.

And calling vnto her a Damzell named Dela, one that was pri­vy to all her secret counsels, to whom she sayd: Goe thy way and finde out the Palmer that thousawest as we came, for it is Persi­cles, conduct him into my Chamber, where let him stay vntill my returne: and if any aske thée what he is, tell them hée is of Assyria, and bringeth mée newes from the Knight my Brother. Dela hasted, and soone found him out, reverently saluting him, and calling him by his name: which made him marvell that she knew him, vntill shée delivered her Message, which he was ready to fulfill, as the thing he aboue all things desired. And having brought him into the Court, which she did without contradiction, she returned to certifie her Mi­stresse thereof. Whom she met with Constantia, and some few before the rest, returning to the Court, being both desirous to sée Persicles. Who now entring the Pallace, were soone espyed of him, which affec­ted his heart with such content, as it séemed to reviue his sences.

Constantia likewise was possest with such contrarious passions, sometimes of Feare, joy, bashfulnesse, desire, and modest loue, that her heart séemed to dissolue: and all the Arteries of her body wrought [Page] with internall and strange motions. By this time they were ascen­ded the stayres, and Persicles ready to méet them, who first saluted Piera, as reserving the best for the last: which he performed so super­ficially, in respect of the behavior he vsed to Constantia, whose modesty made her blush: whilest he berest of a swéet kisse: who with as mild a countenance as if Modesty her selfe had béene there, bad him Welcome.

Most divine Lady (quoth he) I cannot expresse my thankefulnesse [...]y outward meanes, for that my heart both wisheth and intendeth more good to you then my tongue can vtter: being so farre bound vn­to you in (respect of my slender and small deserts) for your estéeming well of me, that I shall never be able to discharge the debt. And though you haue little cause by reason of the small proofe you haue of my Fi­delity, to yéeld me Loue, yet if my faithfull How may satisfie you, and my plighted promise of perpetuall constancy assure you you shall find me both constant in Loue to you, Faithfull, to deale Honourably with you, and Loyall, not to doe any thing that shall be disagréeable to your Will.

My Lord (said Constantia) in full assurance of your good meaning my heart willingly affecting you more then any, without farther de­lay, I yéeld my selfe to your disposition: desiring you not to miscon­ceiue me. And though I am too vnworthy such accounts as you make of mée, my possession being linckt to so many Inconveniences, yet since your desire is to haue it so, I am ready wholly to be ruled and governed according to your directions.

Piera then said, Let further conference for this time cease, because I heare of the King returne: and for this Night I will provide for my Brothers security, with whom I will conferre about this busi­nesse, vntill you may conveniently méet againe. This said, Persicles [...]ooke his leaue of Constantia, with many ceremonious Farewels, [...]s each part interchanging their hearts, such perfect Loue was esta­blisht betwixt them. He to a secret Chamber to meditate. Piera, to [...]ccompany her husband, and Constantia, with an out wardly merry, [...]hough in wardly heavy heart, to Welcome Helyon.

CHAP. III. How Constantia disguised her selfe, and departed the Emperours Court with Persicles.

WIthin this place stayed Persicles so long without meanes how to accomplish his desire, which was to convey away Constantia, that the pre­fixed day for the performance of the Marriage approached, which braue them to their vtter­most shifts, knowing that now or never it was to be done.

Constantia comming to Pieraes Chamber, with a heauy heart and watry eyes, demanded whether they had yet determined how she should escape? But hearing them make no answer, sayd thus: (My Lord) since the feare you haue I should be discouered, and so dishonoured, maketh you vnwilling to haue me hazard my selfe, the time of my pretended Wedding now drawing nigh, which I most abhorre, because I loue none but your selfe: Prouide but for your owne departure out of the Court, without being discouered, and stay for me in the Euening vnder the Myrtle trée, by the Pallace wall, and thither I will assuredly come to you: but by what meanes, as yet I know not.

Persicles was glad to heare her spéeches, but he was much trou­bled in mind that his misfortune was such, that he could not carry her thence, without she her selfe should hazard her escape alone, but séeing her forwardnesse, which was an infallible token of her Con­stancie, with many thankes and Farewels, vntill their happy mée­ting againe they parted: with such carefull hearts, and outward signes of sorrow, as would haue made the hardest heart of any re­morselesse beholder relent.

Persicles soone departed, and without disturbance: for in that habite he was without controll, and soone got to the Myrtle-trée, whereunder bée sate him downe, vttering many hearty Inuocations for his Loues fortunate escape: thinking that she alone should endure [Page] this hazard, but whatsoeuer extremity should follow, should be borne by him. Constantia being in her Chamber with Dela, many thoughts possest her fancies, and sundry Deuises were soone inven­ted, and as soone out of content, that many she bethought her of, but none of them séemed currant. At last, leaning out of her Window, she espyed a Countrey damzell enter the outer Court of the Pal­lace, with a Basket on her arms, wherein were Grapes, which she came of purpose to present vnto Constantia, for their fairenesse: be­ing a guift worthy acceptation. The Porter knowing her minde, sent her to the Princesse Chamber with a Gentleman. Constantia séeing that she came to her, caused her to come in, receiuing her Pre­sent most graciously: the Gentleman being departed, Dela by Con­stantiaes appointment, led the Maiden into a secret chamber, telling her, that it was her Mistresse pleasure, so much to grace her, that she should attend on her, and not returne to her Fathers house: the dam­zell being glad of that preferment, gaue her many thankes. Dela then caused her to put off her owne Apparell, and put on other that was Constantiaes. Which done, she left her and carried her homely wéeds to Constantia, which she presently put on: disrobing her selfe of her rich ornaments, casting aside all other care, but only to attaine her Loue. And the Euening being now come, the happy time of her euerlasting weale or woe, she tooke the damzels Basket on her arme, and first with many farewels to Dela, commendations to Piera, and heauy sighes to leaue her Parents, not knowing what misfor­tunes might befall her: with the water standing in her eyes, which to her vttermost power she refrained, she went downe the stayres, and from thence into the Court, behauing her selfe so decently, that none that met her had any thought, but that she had béene a perfect Damzell: and so she past vntill she came to the Porter, who know­ing of her comming in, denyed not to let her out. Constantia hauing past thus farre without escape, thought not to be long in going to the appointed place, but feare and hope hastening her steps, she some­times ranne, and sometimes went: and then againe looking behind her, as if some had pursued her, ran vntill she gate a sight of the trée, where vnder like wise she espyed her Loue, who before that beheld her, but in that habite knew her not. To whom she approacht so [...]igh, that he noting her well, knew her, and with that embraced her [Page] in his armes, saying: My dearest Loue, a thousand times welcome, and more desired of me, then all the riches of the World: for euer shall this day be blest, and the hou [...]e of this our happy méeting, ac­counted Fortunate: Let all that weare this Habite be happy, and enjoy their most desired content: and let this trée wheresoeuer grow­ing, be estéemed aboue many others: For that it was the appointed place of our méetings. Let the Euening be the most pleasant time of the day for Louers méetings: and let all those be Fortunate in their méetings, whose hearts harbour constant Loue. My deare (quoth he) I cannot expresse the joy my heart conceiueth at your presence, being sorry that you are thus driuen to hazard your person for my sake: being like wise as sorry that I haue no pl [...]ce of security to car­ry you vnto, for in this place we must not stay long, therefore let vs depart the nearest way towards Assyria, & Fortune that hath shewed her selfe so gentle, may favour vs with some more happy successe.

My Lord ( qd Constantia) now that I haue attained your pre­sence, I haue found the Harbor I expected, where my heart shall rest, what hereafter you shall intend, I will be as well contented with as your selfe: therefore direct your steps which way soever you will, I will beare you company. Persicles heart was glad to heare her so chéerefull, that folding his Arme in hers, the Night being new ap­proached, they walked along: shée by the way discoursing the man­ner of her escape: To relate the conference betwéene them, were te­dious: but the most part of the night, they continued travelling so fast, as Constantiaes féeble legges could carry her: who though not accustomed to such labour, yet endured the same so chéerefully, as it had béene a wonder to behold: but at last arriving into a solitary place, where seldome any frequented but Shepheardsr The Night being farre spent, and Constantia weary, they seated themselves downe vpon a banke, and their minds being now somewhat eased of cares, their bodyes wearyed with travaile, and the place voyd of disturbance: After some delightfull conference, Constantia slept, and within a while Persicles did the like: not awaking vntill the Sunnes bright beames glimmering vpon them, awakened them. Persicles heart now beganne to be troubled, where to get Food for Constantia, which hée was out of hope to attaine in those solitary walkes, and rising vp to view the place well, and which way next [Page] to travell, he espyed a Shepheards Cottage hard by, to which he with Constantia went, knocking at the doore, when presently the Shep­heards Wife came foorth, who espying such vnlooked for Ghests, started backe, saying; What would you haue?

Mother (said Persicles) my Wife and I (for so he thought best to name her, to avoyd suspect) travailing towards Assyria, by misfor­tune yesternight lost our way, and haue wandred vp and downe all this night, that we are both weary, especially my Wife, that hath not béene vsed to such vnrest: our desire is to rest our selves, and get vs food (if it may be) in this place: Which kindnesse, if you will afford vs, we will both pay for our charge we put you too, and withall rest thankefull.

The Shepheardesse noting them well, thought them other then their habit declared: with whom his kinde words and their coun­tenances so much prevayled, that she desired them to come in, tel­ling them, that her house rested wholly at their disposition. So they both entred, and willingly sate them downe to rest themselves: but Persicles asking the old woman what meate she had, she told him she had none at all: but if it pleased him, she would be ready to fetch any thing he would send for, at a Village hard by.

Whereupon the old Woman went forth to buy meate, leaving them in the house alone: In whose absence Persicles desired Constan­tia not to be offended with him for saying she was his Wife; For (quoth he) should I name you my sister, or otherwise, it might bréed in them some suspition. Withall, they hearing of your escape, which may by some meanes or other come to their knowledge, will the sooner suspect you: but vnder that name, shall you be voyd of the least knowledge.

Constantia was contented to be ruled by him in any thing, whose heart would now haue conceited the height of content, had not feare to be disclosed darkened the same. In which place wée will leaue them, to speake of Helyon.

CHAP. IIII. Of a merry Jest that befell Helyon Prince of Arabia.

COnstantia being gone downe the stayres, Dela as soone left the Countrey Mayden, to tell Pie­ra what was done, and to aske her counsell what to doe: who hearing all, at last had hee returne to the Damozell, and carry her meat for her Supper, but so closely as none might sée her goe out and in: which Dela performed, and telling her where she should lye, so left her: altering her garments and Attires in such sort, that the Mayden séeing her, should not know her. The Mayden being alone, was soone tempted to taste of those dainty meates, for that she was very hungry, thinking her selfe most happy to be so exalted, daintily fed, and séeing her soft Bed, her belly being full, and being not vsed at home to sit vp late, draw­ing the curtaines close about her, went to Bed, where she was no sooner layd, but she fell fast asléepe.

Helyon all that Euening, maruelling he could not sée Constantia, and withall, not séeing Piera, was satisfied, thinking they had béene together. When Supper was ended, he determined to sée her, and therefore went to Piera's Chamber, thinking to find her there, who told him, that she was not there this afternoone. Then hastening thence, he went to Constantiaes Lodging, finding the Doore shut, which being but latcht, he opened, and so softly as he could, shut the doore againe: with easie pace, and stealing steppes, passing through the first roome, vnto the next, where he saw a light burning through the hangings, which he softly lifted aside, and looking into the cham­ber, saw no body stirring, but the curtaines drawne, and Constan­tiaes Apparell lying not far off, and drawing nigh the Bed perceiu [...]d that she was fast asléepe: thus standing by the Bed as loath to a­wake her, and yet vnwillingly to leaue her, he silently vttered thes [...] meditations. Swéet Fortune hath appointed this happy houre, in fauour of my true Loue, that haue with constancy long attended my Loue, but neuer was graced with any title of her fauour: which op­portunity if I ouer slip, it may be I shall neuer attaine the like [...] I [Page] should attempt to wake her, could she be offended? If I should fur­ther aske her consent to possesse of her Loue: could she take it in ill part? No, she knoweth my Loue is loyall, and therefore will not be offended: but this feareth me most, I never as yet had any favor at her hand: shée for ought that I can sée, regardeth mée not; but in stead of my loue, repayeth me with sorrow: yet in that I may be deceiued: Peradventure she hath vsed me to make tryall of me, and also hath done this, to try whether I would like a Coward for feare of displeasure, leaue the sealing of so swéet a Fort: therefore be my fortune good or bad, I will hazard the worst.

Then taking the Damzell by the hand, who slept so soundly, that he had much adoe to waken her, he said; Constantia, be not offended with me, it is your faithfull friend Helyon, that speaketh to you: I having mist you, thus boldly presumed into your Chamber, which I found but sleightly shut, and fearing that you had béen sick, I am come to visit you, desiring you to grant mée this favour, both to pardon my bold intrusion, and let me stay to be your Guardiant: Which said, very boldly he kist the Damzell twice or thrice. The Mayden hearing his spéeches, was so amazed, that she could not speake, reuol­ving many thoughts in her doubtfull braine, what he should be, and why the Princesse had appointed her to that place: but being vnac­quainted with the fashions of the Court, shée thought it was the cu­stome there (as she had heard her Father report) for every one to haue a Lover, she laid still and said nothing: Which animated Hely­on to such confidence, as that fastning the Doore extinguishing the light, and putting of his Apparell, he leapt into the Bed: and first asking pardon with many humble spéeches, repeating with what constancy he had deserued her and how faithfully he intended for ever to loue her, he folded her in his armes, vsing such behaviour, as soone tempted the Damzell to yéeld, whom hée bereft of her Virginity, to both their contents: He on the one side thinking hée had imbra­ced the faire Constantia, and she supposing she had gotten a rich and kinde Lover. When he had stayed with her so long as he could, for feare of being discovered: for that the day beganne to appeare, hée told her that now to his hearts griefe, he was inforced to leaue her, which she was vnwilling he should doe; that by her Embracings, kisses, and other kinde behaviours, hée stayed longer then he would [Page] haue done, and tooke such full possession of her before he went, as she thought her selfe the happiest Mayden aliue; and he himselfe the most fortunately blessed in the possession of so sweet a Loue. At last parting with many farewels, the Damzels eyes somewhat daz [...]led with the sport, layd her downe againe and [...]lept soundly, vntill she thought it time to arise.

When the day was somewhat aged by the height of the Sunne, Helyon with an excéeding merry countenance, taking a rich standing Cup of beaten Gold, full fraught [...]th the purest Wine, attyring himselfe in his richest Robes, went to Constantiaes Chamber, to present her therewith: and entring therein, he found his Bedfel­low attyred in Constantiaes Ornaments; with which [...]ght he was so amazed, as that he stood like one in a trance, thinking himselfe eyther blind, or that she was metamorphosed.

The Damozell likewise espying him, was ashamed to sée him stand gazing on her with such a wilde countenance, that she blusht excéedingly. At last, Helion fearing some deceit, said: Where is Constantia, that you are attyred with her Ornaments? The Dam­zell making a low curtesie, said: I know not where she is; her Mayd had me put on this Apparell yesterday, appointing me to stay in this place vntill her returne.

Helyon then perceiued that he was deceiued, and the Damzell in stead of Constantia had béene his Paramour that night, whom he desired to tell him whether Constantia had of purpose perswaded her to doe that, and also if she knew where she was. For know (quoth he) that thou hast not bestowed thy Virginity on an vnworthy per­son, but vpon the Prince of Arabia.

The Damzell humbling her selfe vpon her knées, told him all that she knew: Whereby he then perceiued that Constantia was fled, by reason that he could not finde the damzels Apparell; that taking her by the hand, he said: Damzell, I perceiue Constantia still re­je [...]teth me; and therefore as thou in her stead, hast taken possession of my Loue, that good will and Affection which formerly I haue borne to her, will I beare to thée: and hereafter preferre thée to such dignity, as otherwise thou shouldest neuer attaine vnto & Withall, requesting thée to conceale my being with thée this night, from any; For if it should be knowne, it would redound to my shame, and thy [Page] punishment: but when question shall be made for Constantia, t [...]ll thou all that thou knowest of my comming hither, but nothing of me: and in signe of my goodwill, I drinke to thée in this Cup of Wine, which I had thought Constantia should haue tasted. This said, he left the Damzell, and so secretly as might be, he went to his owne Lodging; so much grieued in minde, fretting with vexation, and desperate with anger, that he vowed to be revenged, were it by neuer so cruell meanes: In his heart now hating her, whom before he doted on. Which is a signe of an inconstant disposition; for true Loue could by no meanes be altered.

It was not long before Constantia was mist, and the Newes thereof came to the King her Father, who with the Quéene, maruel­led thereat, causing all diligent enquiry to be made; but no other newes was heard of them, but that she was gone, and a strange Damzell left in her stead. Who being brought before the King, told them the cause of her comming, and how she was vsed after by a Gentlewoman that wayted on Constantia. Whereupon the King caused all the Ladyes and Gentle women in the Court to be brought before him, but amongst them all, she could not tell which was she; for Dela ▪ had altered her Apparell in such sort, that the Damzell was as ignorant of knowing her, as of any of the rest.

The King was so excéedingly inraged, that he was ready to teare the haire from his head, commanding that the Damzell should be punished: but at the earnest intreaties of the Quéene, she was onely in disgracefull sort turned out at the Court gates. The King for that time in an excéeding rage, betaking himselfe to his solitary Chamber, to study which was the best way to find out his Daugh­ter. Helyon pittying the Damzell, being now more in loue with her then euer he was with Constantia, called vnto him one of his most trustiest Servants, willing him in secret sort to follow the Damzell, and to deliuer her a Purse full fraught with Gold, telling her that Prince Helyon sent it her; and withall, to conduct her home to her Fathers house, that he might know where to finde her. Which done, he presently went to the King, desiring him spéedily to send foorth Messengers to finde Constantia. Who thinking Helyon had reque­sted him thereunto, with his former pretence of Loue, caused twen­ty of his Knights priuily to be brought before him, to whom hée [Page] imparted his intent: which was, that (not making any privy there­unto) they should that Night depart severall wayes in search of Con­stantia.

All things being complotted according to his minde, the Knights having taken their Oathes of Fidelity and Secrecy, and departed, the King rested: calming his disquiet with so merry a countenance, as none supposed, but that he had remitted all regard of Constantia: Which was so closely effected, that the Knights were dispersed every way in the Countrey, before there was any question made of Con­stantiaes absence.

Helyons Servant surnamed Aldrus, soone overtooke the Dam­zell, delivering her the gift his Lord had sent, which she received with many thankes: telling her like wise, that he had sent him to attend her home. Which she was likewise glad of, fearing her Parents displeasure for staying so long: who knew her not at the first sight but afterwards were satisfied by Aldrus, who learning her Name, which was Selia, left her.

CHAP. V. The pleasures that passed betweene the two faithfull Lovers, Per­cles and Constantia, in the Shepheards Cottage. How a Knight that was sent in their search, found them, and what thereon ensued.

THe Day being farre spent, the old Shepheards Wife returned with Provision, which shée had brought, dressing the same very cleanly, though after her Country fashion, whereon Persicles and Constantia fedde heartily: spending the rest of the day in talke with the old Woman, vntill at Night the old Shepheard and his sonne returned, who wondred to sée such Guests in his House, and such cheare at the fire, that was woont to sup with a Crab put into sowre Wigge: and calling aside his Wife before hée would enter, demanded, What they were? Husband ( qd she) they came hither in the morning, desiring me to let them haue but House­roome: For that loosing their way, they had wandred about all that [Page] night, and were sore weary. They are the kindest people that euer I saw: Good Husband bid them welcome. The good old man wax­ed so kind by his Wiues intreaties, that hée came in, telling them they were most heartily welcome: and that both himselfe and all that he had were at their command.

Persicles gaue him many thankes, being much comforted with their kindnesse, which he found disagréeing with the humours of Rusticke people. Supper time was come and ended, and then the old Woman called her Husband aside, asking him where they should lye? Marry (quoth he) in our owne Bed. And we for this time will make other prouision: and therefore, I pray make the same ready in the best sort you can.

Which sayd, the old Woman went about the same, and the olde Man comming to them, said: Because I know you not, I know not what Title to giue vnto you, but lesse then borne of Gentle blood I am sure you are not: I am sorry my wealth affoordeth me no better entertainement to welcome you withall. But such as our homely Cottage yéeldeth, shall be at your disposition. Desiring you to accept this our disable good will, in stead of better performance: my wife is making ready your Bed, which though homely, yet it is cleanly, wée hauing no choyce but onely that, desire you to accept it as the best.

I thanke you good Friend (quoth Persicles) but wée shall be vn­mannerly to thrust you foorth of your owne Rest: therefore we will rather sit vp then disquiet you. Not so (quoth the old man (I haue all my life time béen brought vp to hardnesse, and can endure it well, which I am sure you cannot doe without the hazard of your healths. Then came the old Women bringing a light to conduct them vnto the Chamber, which she had drest so finely with gréene Rushes and swéet flowers, that it was most pleasant, though nothing costly. And leaving them there departed.

Constantia séeing them gone, began to blush, to thinke she must be Persicles his Bedfellow, which he perceiuing, folding her in his armes, said: Now Constantia, you must be a Wife before you are Married, which name you cannot now refuse, hauing giuen your con [...]ent thereunto already. I must of force be your Bed [...]fel­low, vnlesse you will haue me lye on the gréene Rushes: therefore I [Page] pray tell me: Whether you are willing to fauour me so much, or no?

Constantia betwixt a modest bashfulnesse, and a modest desire, stood mate, not knowing whether to consent or deny. Sometimes thinking her denyall might disquiet him: and againe, that to yéeld might make him suspect her of lightnesse: So that betwixt Feare and Hope, she continued silent, as it were overcome with a déepe study.

Persicles smiling thereat, sayd: My deare Loue, I know with what motiues your mind is now agitated: if you thinke it will im­paire your Honour to be my chast Bed-fellow, I will rather loose my life then perswade you thereto: but if you will vouchsafe me such fa­vour as to lye by you, in the most vertuous sort, I protest it shall be no dishonour to you, for that your Virgin purity shall not be spotted by the least thought of vnlawfull attempt in me: wherein if you will trust me: you shall finde that I will vse you both as beséemeth your Estate, agréeth with your Honour, and the vertuous meaning of a true Friend.

My Lord (sayd Constantia,) doe not thinke me either so immo­destly scornefull to distrust you, or so curious to thinke it will im­paire my Name to be your Bedfellow: Onely this I would wish that the Rights of Marriage were performed, and then I were at your disposition.

Lady (quoth he,) What néedeth such strict performance of the outward Ceremonies, which maketh, not the Marriage: but those are truely Married, that with vnited hearts haue plighted Promise of perpetuall friendship; electing one the other by true Loue, and not outward Ceremony; For where true Loue is not, there can be no perfect Marriage, though the outward Ceremony be neuer so de­voutly performed. Therefore if my opinion can prevaile with you, we being without meanes to vse the outward Ceremony, may con­firme as true and constant a Contract betwixt our selues (as though it were established by the rights of the Church.) This also maketh me vse these reasons, sithence the meanes of performance of that be­ing wanting, we may neuerthelesse still protract our happinesse; for who are more happier then those that liue in perfect Loue, though neuer so miserable: For my part, I estéeme your louing company [Page] aboue all joyes; and the fruition of your Loue more deare to me, then a thousand liues without the same. Then I beséech you let my intreaties so much prevaile, that I may with your frée consent possesse your Loue; for I vow never to loue or chuse other then your selfe.

Constantia hearing his spéeches, and many other reasons that he alledged: At last made this answer; My Lord, relying vpon your Vertues, true Loue, and honourable meaning, I yéeld to your Re­quest, giuing my consent to be your Wife for euer; desiring you to dispose of me according to your minde; for you shall find me alwayes obedient at your command. Thus ending their spéeches, with ma­ny embracings, they adrest themselues to their Brydall bed, which resembled such a Bed indéed: For the old Woman had deckt the Bed with her best linnen and other furniture, stucke the same round about with swéet Roses, strowed the Chamber with gréene Ru­shes, filled the Windowes with gréene Boughes and Flowers so thicke in euery place, giuing such a swéet sauour, that it might well be tearmed a Shepheards Paradice.

The two Louers being in Bed, vsed that behauiour such Loueres doe, thinking themselues Fortunate, the place pleasant, their mée­tings happy, and their Loue swéet, enjoying content without con­troll; Loue without lust; and Pleasure without pride; He thin­king his joyes without compare, and she thinking none to be compa­red with hers. The Birds without singing their swéet Ditties in stead of Musicke, and the swéet Philomela hard by the Wall, with a merry note rejoycing at their pleasure.

Thus did they passe ouer this night with excéeding content; and the next day in communication with the Shepheard, who committed both the Flockes to the government of his Sonne, for that himselfe would stay to beare them company; to whom he bare such an inward Loue, wrought in him by a naturall motion, that he thought him­selfe most happy to doe them any pleasure.

Some thrée daies stayed they with the Shepheard, being past feare to be discouered, for that they heard not of any enquiry was made after them, At last, one of the Knights that the King of Persia had priuily sent foorth in their search, chanced to come into the Plaines where the Shepheards sonne was kéeping his Shéepe, to whom he [Page] said: Shepheard, didst thou not sée a Damzell lately passe by this way? Not I answered he: Why, what Damzell is it you aske for▪ The Knight either by his countenance, or [...]tuttering in his answer, supposing it might be he had seene her, said: It is a Friend of mine that I estéeme dearely; She promised me I should heare of her hereabout, but my fortune hath not yet béen so good, I cannot tell (said the Shepheard) it may be my father can tell you, who dwelleth hard by yonder thicket. The Knight with that left him, and rode to the Shepheards house, where he alighting, entred without calling, and found the Shepheard, his Wife, Persicles, and Constantia, all together: and presently knowing Constantia, he said; Lady Con­stantia, the King your Father makes great lamentation for your ab­sence at the Court. With that they knew they were betrayed, and she with feare and griefe, fell downe in a trance: Whom with much adoe they recoue [...]ed. My Friend (quoth Persicles) thou art either very vnmannerly, or thy Authority is great, that thou intrudest thy selfe into our company. Doest thou know that this is Constantia? Then where is thy reuerence to her▪ Were it not for disquieting her, that is already distempered with thy presence, thou shouldst find cold entertainment.

The Knight being much grieued to sée Constantia so disquieted, said: I am sorry my presence hath troubled her, which was contrary to my mind; for be it farre from my thought to worke hec disquiet: the King of Persia missing her, hath sent out diuers besides my selfe to séeke her, with Commandement to bring her backe to the Court, and amongst the rest, you sée it is fallen to my lot to performe it; yet such regard doe I beare vnto her, that I will not doe any thing disa­gréeing to her honourable mind. Constantia hearing his spéeches, said; What is your name? My name (said hée) is Pisor. Art thou of Assyria (quoth Persicles) and one of the Knights belonging to Piera? I am said he. Then I feare not but thou bearest a Knightly minde, and wilt rather conceale this Ladyes being here, then be­tray her, by carrying her backe: If not (for her owne sake) yet for Persicles thy King, whom shée loueth; and thou shouldest obey. Were it (quoth he) to venture my life for my Prince, I would most willingly doe it, and if the Lady loueth him, and for that hath left the Court, I will hazard my life in her defence: and to my vttermost [Page] power procure her hearts desire. Then know Pisor, that Persicles hea­reth thy kind spéeches and hath not sailed in his kind opinion of thy vertues; For I am he, though thus disguised. With that Pisor knew him, and humbled himselfe with great reverence vnto him on his knée.

Persicles rising vp embraced him, telling him that he came in a most fortunate houre to doe him pleasure. Constantia with this, was comforted againe, and forget her former passion and feare. The old Shepheard and his wife were halfe amazed, vntill Persicles said: Fa­ther, be not any way disquieted with my knowledge; for though I am King of Assyria, I am thy Ghest, and will for thy kindnesse re­ward thée liberally; desiring thée not to discover me to any; For if thou shouldest, it might hazard this Ladies life and mine, that are now in thy hands. With that, they both knéeled downe, vowing that nothing should make them so disloyall. Then he said to Pisor, of old experience I know thou louest me, and therefore I make no questi­on of thy Fidelity, or doubt that thou wilt vndertake any thing to pleasure me. Therefore I would haue thée (with as much hast as might be) to Post into Assyria vnto Parenus and Thrureus, whom I left my substitutes, and to them make my estate knowne, telling them that my desire is, that they come to me into this place, with a sufficient number of Horsmen to Guard me, and the Princesse Con­stantia home; but to let none know their intent, which I take is the best course for our safety; For if we should séeke other meanes by trauell, Constantia is not able to endure it; which also might be a meanes to discover vs, so many being abroad in our search. Pisor pre­sently obeyed him, and taking his leaue, departed onwards on his Iourney, leauing Persicles and Constantia in the Shepheards cottage.

CHAP. VI. How Helyon was in love with Selia, and hearing of his Fathers sick­nesse obtayned leave to depart. And of the Desolation that was befallen in Assiria by the treason of Duke Oretus.

NOw Helyon remembring the pleasure he had with his Countrey Louer, desired much to sée her againe; with whom he was more déepely in Loue, then euer he was with Constantia: for the Loue he before bare to her, [Page] was turned to hatred: and the cause of his importunacie to the King to haue her found, was with a malicious disposition of Revenge, not of any Honourable inclination, being of such variable and incon­stant Nature, that the least occasion altered his wauering minde, either to loue or hatred: Which was vnfit for a man of so great a birth as he deriued himselfe from. And now hauing past many dayes colouring his pretence vnder the shadow of fained sorrow, he longed to visite his Louer Selia. Therefore finding a time fit for his in­tent, he with his Seruant Aldrus rode thither. At his comming, finding Selia againe cloathed in her Countrey Wéedes. Who espy­ing him, with a modest blush came to méete him: Whom he imbra­ced most kindly in his armes, asking her how she fared? My Lord (said she) your Handmayd rejoyceth to sëe your worthy person in this homely Cottage, whose heart can attaine no quiet, but by your re­membrance. By this time her Parents were come in, who séeing the Prince did him humble reuerence: He like wise saluting them with great curtesie. When he had stayed there most part of the day in priuate conference with his Loue, he departed: The next day re­pairing thither againe. Which he like wise did for many dayes after.

In the end, growing to such extremity of passion, that he told Selia, he woul [...] Marry her: And withall, made her Parents ac­quainted therewith, who willingly gaue their consent thereto, and by this meanes he enjoyed her company of all times according to his desire.

In this sort did he visite her many dayes, doting excéedingly on his Countrey Selia, thinking no Lady in the Court comparable vnto her, and like wise dissembling excéeding griefe for Constantia, so that the King highly commended his Constancy, estéeming him the more for not altering his mind. Within few dayes, Newes was [...]ought to the Persian Court, that the King of Arabia was very sicke: which caused Helyon to desire the King of Persia's consent to his departure; which he granted: First hauing receiued his faithfull Oath to marry Constantia, which he sware to performe at his returne.

Most of the Knights that went in search of Constantia were re­turned, not one of them bringing newes of her: Which draue the King into such a rage, that he séemed quite bereft of sence, causing [Page] them to make more open enquiry, and to promise great Reward to those that could tell of her.

By this time likewise Pisor had béene in Assyria, and againe re­turned to the Shepheards house: Whom Persicles welcommed, as glad that he was so soone returned. But Pisors countenance be­wrayed some ill Newes, which Persicles soone perceived: and be­ing vnwilling Constantia should heare ought that might bréed in her any di [...]content, walked aside with him into the Thicket of a Wood hard by the house, where Pisor said: My Lord, I haue a Tragicke discourse to reveale, that maketh my heart melt to thinke thereof, which I would had not béene my ill Fortune to haue brought you newes of.

At my comming into Assyria, I passed many miles before I found an Assyrian to converse withall: For that the Townes and Villages which before were repleat with store of Inhabitants, were now consumed by Fire, and not a house standing alone, but was dispoyled, and the people from their dwellings fled away, which cau­sed me make the more hast: hoping that all was not destroyed. And comming more neare the Court, in my way I found the bodies of the Assyrians lying dead, and confusedly strowed vpon the Earth, as i [...] some battell had béene lately fought in that place: Those which lay dead, seeming to haue fled to saue their lives. And the farther I past, [...]he more did the number increase: which I followed so long, that I was perswaded, those that destroyed them were not farre off but yet went so farre before me, that I could not overtake them, for the bo­yes of some were not yet cold, and others lay strugling to over ma­ [...]ter Death. Where with I was so amazed, that I set spurres to my Stéeds sides and rode withall the hast I could, vntill at last I espyed [...] mighty Army of Souldiers right before me, vpon the Mount Silo, whose multitude séemed to be innumerable. Neare vnto which, I was no sooner come, but I espyed an Assyrian wounded grievously, [...]o whom I drew nigh, and soone knew him to be Parenus, and dis­ [...]overing my selfe vnto him, desired him to tell me what Treason had [...]rought him to that dangerous estate. With that he knowing mée, [...]ayd.

Pisor, such misery is befalne vs Assyrians, as wée shall be a re­ [...]roach and scandall to all the World: Which I would repeate, but [Page] before that I can make an end, Death will stop my spéech; therefore first tell me how my Lady Piera fareth?

Noble Duke (said I) she is in good health, and in great prosperity. I rejoyce thereat (quoth he) though I haue otherwise euerlasting cause to sorrow. For our Soueraigne Lord the King, after he had put the Armenians to flight, was very desirous vpon some occasion (as yet vnknowne) to leaue the Court, in his absence committing the Government thereof to my vnhappy selfe, and that noble Knight Thrureus, which we performed with great quiet: vntill Duke Ore­tus, one that was neuer true to the State, hearing of the Kings de­parture, which we could by no meanes conceale, raised a false report, that we had murthered the King: Which rumour moued the Com­mon people to such disquiet, that they began to Rebell: Which he perceiuing (ayming thereby to winne the Crowne) gathered a great multitude of them together, with pretence of revenge against vs, which when we heard of, with all the hast wée could possible, we Mustered men for our defence; but so eager were the multitude to our destruction, together with Oretus his perswasions, that before we were any way able to resist them, they set vpon vs, and shed a great number of their owne Countrey mens blood, that stood in our defence, and draue vs to immure our selues within the City. The King of Armenia hearing of this Rebellion, with great spéed brought a mighty great Army into this Land, destroying all that came in his way, burning both Townes and Cities, and destroying the common people with an excéeding great Slaughter. Which came to Oretus hearing, with such terror, that he presently fled, and left his Confede­rate Rebels to be destroyed by the Enemy: Which caused vs by a Herauld to demand whether they would submit themselues to vs or no? Or by their treason to sée their Countries ruine? With that they yeelded, and we gathered all the Forces we could to resist the enemies, with whom we fought thrée great Battels, and in the same lost aboue thirty thousand Assyrians, being driuen to flight: This day againe gathering head to resist them; but being too few in number, in respect of their strength and multitude, you sée how our bodies be scattered vpon the Earth, mangled and cut in pieces: My selfe be­ing I thinke, the last that liueth to tell this newes. For the Noble Thrureus is already slaine, whose déeds of Valour would containe a [Page] great volume: Which newes when our King shall heare, it will no doubt cut off his vertuous life with sorrow. My greatest griefe be­ing that I cannot heare of his safety before my death. My Lord, said I, our gracious King is liuing, and in good health in Persia, who sent me vnto your Honour, and Thrureus, with a secret Message which I néed not now vnfold. Yes good Pisor, (quoth he) let me heare my Lords Message, that I may thereby know whether I were still in his fauour or no. With that I vnfolded the cause of my comming: Which heard, such a passion of discontent ouercame his vitall spirits, that with many bitter groanes he gaue vp the ghost. When I saw there was no meanes for his recovery, I departed, to enquire what slaughter the Enemy had made, who by that time the day was ended, had vanquished the Assyrian forces, taking the City and most of the Nobility Prisoners. I stayed some foure dayes, hi­ding me secretly to bring you certaine Newes, which is this. The King of Armenia compelled the Noblemen to sweare Allegeance vn­to Palyon his eldest Sonne, whom he hath crowned King in Assyria, and left a mighty Army for his defence. When I vnderstood this, I returned to certifie your Highnesse thereof.

CHAP. VII. How Persicles hearing the newes by Pisor, hee departed into a soli­tary place, and thereby caused the unfortunate separation between him and Constantia, who in great sorrow wandring to seeke him, was found by Helyon, and carried into Arabia. And of the many sorrowes Persicles endured for her absence. How Pisor became franticke.

PErsicles his heart was ouercome with such sorrow to heare Pisors heauy Newes, that he had much adoe to containe himselfe from extreame mad­nesse; that he minded a while to withdraw him­selfe to vtter his plaints in those solitary walks; but séeing Pisor follow him, he desired him to returne to the [...]hepheards house, and in no case to acquaint Constantia with these misfortunes. But if she asked [Page] for him, he should tell her he would come presently.

Pisor being departed, he sought for the most vnfrequented [...]lace of the Wood, wandring long in that discontent, but could find none a­gréeable to his mind: neither knowing whether he went, nor almost what [...]e intended: his sences being dulled with such passionate vexa­tion, continuing so long therein, that he spent longer time in seeking out a place of rest, then he was aware off, which turned to his grea­ter v [...]rest, as afterwards it fell out. For Constantia marvelling that he stayed so long, and withall noting Pisors darkened counte­nance, supposed some ill newes was the cause of both, finding occasi­on fit, thought to find her Loue in the midst of his dumps, and with her amiable presence to comfort him, stole from the Cottage into the Wood, where Pisor told her that he had left him: Where shée wandred vp and downe a great while, not finding him, which made her marvell, sometimes call [...]ng him▪ but not by his right name, least any should heare her: and finding that meanes to prevaile nothing, she began to enter into many doubtfull thoughts; sometimes calling his Loyalty in question, then againe, reproving her fancies, for en­tring into suspition of him, then thinking some ill newes was befalne in Assyria, which might driue him into a carelesse desperation, and also fearing tha [...] some of the Persian Knights had met with him, and finding some likelyhood of suspition in him, had carryed him to the King her Father. These Meditations possest her mind so long, and wrought such a terrour in her fancies, that she fared like one that had beene possest with the truth, that it was so. Thus did they both con­tinue most part of that day, she seeking him, and he opprest with care, not remembring that it was time to returne home, yet both of them directing their steps a contrary way, that they met not, but wandred a way from one another. At last, he began to remember where he was, how long he had béene absent, and what care she would take for his absence, which caused him with as much spéed to hast backe, as with carelesnesse he had wandred vp and down, which before he could at­ [...]ain, it grew to be towards Night. Pisor likewise marvelling at his long stay, and at Constantiaes sudden departure, fearing that some ill might betide him, and some extraordinary care oppresse her, left the Cottage to find him, and if he could méet her, to direct her to the place where he left him.

[Page]When Persicles found them both absent, he maruelled thereat: en­quiring of the old Woman when they departed: who told him that Constantia went first out, and he after her. Which made him thinke, that she missing him so long, might go to séeke him: and Pisor followed her, thinking to direct her, least she should wander astray, as shée might well doe in those vnfrequented places. But when he had a long time continued in those dumps, and saw neither of them returne, hée began to enter into many misdoubts, such as procéed from the vnquiet motions of distempered thoughts: being fearefull to depart thence againe, least he might so misse them.

Pisor being entred the Wood, came to the place where he had left Persicles, but could neither finde him there, nor Constantia, which made him wander vp and downe so long, that he was weary: At last comming to a shady place, and laying himselfe downe to rest, ca­sting vp his eyes, espyed most beautifull fruit vpon a Trée, hanging right over his head: The sight whereof pleased him so well, that plucking some of the same, he found the taste pleasant, which cau­sed him to eate many of them; which made him presently to fall into a deadly sléepe. The name of the Fruit is called Pilos, the nature whereof is, to procure those that taste thereof, first to sléepe, without a waking, for the space of foure and twenty houres, and after to become Franticke, for the space of thrée Moneths, which hindred Pisor from returning.

When Persicles had stayed so long expecting their returne, vn­ [...]ill it began to be darke, hée againe went out, telling the Shep­heard that he was going to séeke them; cruell Fortune directing his [...]teps directly to the place whereas Pisor lay sléeping, whom he be­ [...]eld, and neither by calling, nor by any other meanes could awake [...]im: a deadly feare possest his Fancy, that some furious Beast had [...]laine him, and either deuoured Constantia, or pursued her, flying [...]rom him; Which caused him like a Franticke man to draw foorth [...]isors Sword, running vp and downe to séeke that which was not here to be found.

Constantia by this time was wandred so farre in search of Per­ [...]cles, that shée could by no meanes tell which way to returne a­ [...]aine, but she was constrained all that night to wander vp and down, [...]ith hope to haue returned. But contrary to her thought, going a [Page] quite contrary way, her feare and care causing her to make the more speed; that being wearied with trauell, comming to the out-side of the Wood, she sate downe vpon a Bancke, and there after she had bewailed her miserable estate, and wearied her sences with sorrow, as she had her body with trauell, she fell asléepe.

Now it so fell out, that Helyon the day before, had taken his leaue of the King of Persia, to trauell into Arabia, and that Night lay at Seliaes Fathers, causing her to be attyred in rich Ornaments, that morning carried her with him into Arabia, intending there to make her his Bride: and by misfortune, past by the place where Constantia lay fast asléepe; some of his followers soone espyed her, and [...]hewed her to Helyon. Selia likewise séeing her, presently told Helyon that her Apparell was either the same which Constantiaes Gentlewoman tooke from her in the Persian Court or so like it, that she could not know one from the other. Helyon himselfe rode to her and awaked her, by his former disposition and her Counte­nance, which was still in his remembrance, perfectly knowing her. She likewise at the very first sight knowing him, which amated her sences with deadly feare. To whom he said; My deare Constantia, what hath caused you thus discourteously to reject my Loue, and leaue the Persian Court, to endure this hard Fortune, so much disa­gréeing to your estate? Yet at length I beséech you accept of my Loue, and goe with me into Arabia.

Leaue off your dissembling speeches (quoth Constantia) and let me alone; for I had rather all my life lye on this cold Earth, then liue in all ease with you. With that she would haue left him, but he commanded his Seruants to take her by force into the Coach, and so carry her along with him into Arabia, not letting any know what she was but onely his Selia. When Constantia saw that of force she must néeds goe, she vttered such plaints and made such sorrowfull exclamations, that those which guarded her, thought she would haue fallen mad; though neither knowing her, nor her cause of sorrow, yet inwardly in their hearts pittying her.

Whom we will leaue, fully possest with the vttermost extremity of anguish onwards towards Arabia, the place she most of all loa­thed, to speake of Persicles who in a mad fury hauing runne vp and downe a great while in the Wood, againe returned into the Shep­heards [Page] house, sée if Constantia were not yet returned, but there he found onely the Shepheard and his Wife in great care, awayting his returne: who espying the Sword in his hand, and his face and hands in many places bloudy, which was with the scratches he had receiued in the darke Wood, were ready to run from him for feare: but he mildly demaunded if Constantia were yet come backe, who told him they saw her not? Alas ( qd he) poore Lady, I feare she is deuoured by some mercilesse Beast: For I found Pisor lying dead in the Wood: Which affrighteth me with such feare of her mishap, that I know not what to doe, nor which way to goe in her search.

My Lord (said the old Shepheard) I can assure you, there doth no Wild Beast haun [...] is Wood, for then could not my flockes féede in quiet: of which I haue not lost one Lambe by any casualtie: but rather I thinke my Lady missing you all the day, is wandred so farre into the Wood, that she cannot returne, nor you find her: whom I doe not doubt but to finde in the Morning: neither is he dead, but I belieue hath tasted some of our vnlucky fruit called Pylos, that hath cast him into a dead sléepe, and after that he will be Franticke for a certaine space.

Persicles was wonderfully comforted with the Shepheards spée­ches, yet notwithstanding leaving him, and all that Night wan­dring vp and downe the Wood to finde her, but he spent his labour in vaine, neither that night nor the next day finding her, which draue him so farre beyond the compasse of naturall continency, that if hée remained long in that extreame perplexity, it would cut off his life. When hée saw himselfe voyd of all hope, without meanes how to finde her, and assurance that she was not within the Wood, he layde him downe vpon the earth, vttering these laments. How fortunate had I béene had I never set foote in the Persian soyle? then had I still bin King of Assyria, & Constantia in quiet in her Fathers Court: whereas now, both I, but especially her selfe, are fallen into extreame misery. Had it onely fallen to my share to haue endured a thousand more mis­fortunes, I could with patience haue endured them: onely this tor­menteth mée, that my misfortune hath brought her from Weale to wee: from quiet to discontent: from pleasure, to paine: from hap­pinesse to misery, and from life to death, I cannot tell how to pre­vent these evils, to sit here, and vtter sad words auaileth me not: to [Page] bewaile her estate, helpeth her: nor to destroy my selfe, will benefit her: should I sit still here, so shall I never finde her: and to séeke for her out of this place, is to spend my Labours without hope of comfort. For I feare me she is dead, and then may I sooner méete her Ghost in this place, then her Body in another. Well, since neither comfort nor counsell is left to further my hopes, I will forever dwell in this vnfortunate place, and fill the same with my La­ments: neither shall my body rest in bed, nor my stomacke tast of other meate then wilde fruit, vntill I finde my Loue, or be assured of the place of her abode.

Thus liued he in those Woods many dayes, and many yéeres, ma­king every Trée a monument of Constantias v [...]tunate losse, though he were often disswaded by Pisor, who afterwards trauelled most parts of all those Countryes in search of her, but could neuer heare of her. The King of Persia had likewise giuen over all care of Con­stantia, as supposing her to be dead: greatly lamenting the misfor­tunes of Persicles, and maruelling at his absence, beléeving verily that he was murthered, according to the accusation made by Oretus, against Parenus and Thrureus. Whom we will all leaue for a while, to speake of the misfortunes befell to Constantia.

CHAP. VIII. How Selia was married to Helyon, and of the miseries Constantia endured by her jealousie. How Constantia was delivered of a goodly Boy: whose life was preserved by the policie of Palia, and how Selia vexed thereat.

HElyon was no sooner arrived in Arabia, but hée was informed of his Fathers death, which for a time he lamented of common course, not of piety or affection: in the meane time, causing Constantia to be kept in the old Monasterie vnder the government of an ancient Ladie, that lived not onely by the gifts of the King be­stowed vpon her, for many badde actions, but [Page] also of many Gentlemen that hau [...]ed the Company of the Kings Concubines by stealth. In this place did he put Constantia, neither her Kéeper, nor any other knowing what she was: Who by this time had [...]esolued to endure aduersity, for many dayes giuing her selfe to quiet, for that by reason of his counterfeit mourning, he came not at her.

But the time being come that he was crowned King, and on the same day likewise married Selia, causing poore Constantia as one of her Handmaides to attend her: Which he did of a malicious in­tent▪ onely to vexe her: but she was well contented to doe any thing to rid her of his hatefull Loue, whom she abhorred in the very depth of her Soule. But when he saw she endured the same with such pa­tience, he againe caused her to be closely kept in that Monastery, gi­uing commandement that none but the old Lady named Palia, should come at her.

Thus did she continue, vntill she began to féele her selfe with Child by Persicles, which draue her to the vttermost exigent of care, how to preserue her Infants life; Sometimes purposing to make her estate knowne to Palia, but hauing sufficient tryall of her wicked disposition, she durst not trust her, least she should reueale the same to the King.

Selia like wise at that very instant was great with Child by Hely­on, both conceiuing at one instant, the one in the Persian Court, and the other in the Shepheards cottage. Selia made Helyon acquainted therewith, desiring that she might be deliuered thereof in some pri­vate place, where the Ladyes of the Court might not know thereof, which would turne to her euerlasting scandall.

Helyon well knowing the nature of the people, in what detestable sort they held adultery in their Queene, thought no place so fit for the accomplishment thereof, as in the Monastery where Constanti [...] was, vnto which place she was soone conueyed: report being giuen out by the Kings command, that she was for the preservation of her health, secretly departed into the Countrey.

The Quéene being come into the Monastery, asked for Constan­tia, who was presently brought before her, whom Selia now began to hate mortally, being very Iealous of her, and supposing that [Page] the King still Loued her: wh [...] she vsed so disdainfully vpbrayding her with many vndecent spéeches. Which Constantia tooke most pati­ently, onely with Teares lamenting her misfortunes. And so proudly and scornefully did she behaue her selfe towards Palia, and all that at­tended her, that they began to dislike of her.

Palia séeing the pride of the Quéene, and in what disdainfull sort▪ she vsed her, accusing her to be priuy to the Kings secret loue to Con­stantia vsing her so distrustfully, and with such euill tearmes, began to hate her. Which Constantia perceiued by some doubtfull spéeches she gaue out against her. Whereupon, finding a fit opportunity, when she was vexed with her vnkindnesse, she came to Palia, and said: I perceiue the Quéen vseth you but vnkindly, regarding to vse none well, though they giue her no cause at all. She likewise misuseth me, that neuer in my life offended her, but haue béene the greatest cause of her good, I would gladly intreat your ayd, and withall reveale many things vnto you, that you yet know not, if I were assured of your secrecy: which I am the more fearefull to reveale, for that they are matters of importance, wherein notwithstanding if you would vouch­safe your assistance to pitty my miserable estate, you shall doe a déed of euerlasting merit.

Palia hearing her spéeches, sayd: if I may likewise without feare make my minde knowne vnto you, be your assured I doe so mortally hate her, that rewardeth my dutifull seruice with disdaine, that I will not leaue any thing vnattempted to vexe her, and plea­sure you: therefore if an Oath may assure you of my secrecy, hauing no other meanes at this instant to giue proofe thereof, I vow by all the good I euer expect, never to reveale what you disclose to me, but most faithfully labour to pleasure you to my power. Then know ( qd Constantia) that I am Daughter to the King of Persia, some­times brought vp in this Court: and your Quéene but the Daugh­ter of a Countrey-Swaine in Persia, that being exalted to dignity, though basely borne, behaueth her selfe thus proudly: I fearing my Father would haue married me to Helyon against my will, having betrothed my selfe to the King of Assyria, with him stole from the Court in this Apparell of Selia, that is now your Quéene: much search was made for me, but they could neuer finde me: for I lived with my Lord in this disguise in a Shepheards house, vntill one day [Page] I missing him strayed so farre from the House, that I could not re­turne, but by misfortune was found by Helyon, and thus as you sée brought into this Countrey, either to my death or to a worser end. I am likewise great with Child, and within short space shall be de­livered. My earnest desire is, that you would vse some meanes to preserue my Babe from death, which no doubt it is likely to endure by her malice and his cruelty.

Palia having heard her Spéeches, Reverenced her comforted her, and promised her with many Vowes and Protestations, to fulfill her desire thereby to worke some revenge against the Quéene. In her heart pittying the distresse of Constantia, of whose Vertues she had before times some knowledge. With this Promise did Con­stantia somewhat comfort her selfe, hoping yet in the end to escape from that Bondage, being daily cherished by old Palia: who behaued her selfe towards Selia, with such duty and obedience, notwithstan­ding her often vpbraydings, that she still kept her selfe in most place of credit about her.

The day being now come that the Quéene was delivered of a goodly Boy, and Constantia the next Night of another, none being priuy thereto but Palia, who handled the matter with such cunning, that she conveyed Constantiaes Child to Selia, and hers to Con­stantia, making her acquainted with her intent therein. The next day declaring to Helyon, how that the Damzell in her custody was deliuered of a Boy. Helyon hearing that, willing her to kéepe the same secret from any, vpon paine of death: Not so much as once to reueale it to the Quéene, vowing ere many dayes to destroy it. Gi­uing Order to haue his owne Christened, naming him Perus: And comming to the Quéene, told her it were best to be Nursed in the Countrey, who was contented to be ruled by him. Then calling to him Palia, he told her, that shée must needs provide a Nurse for his Sonne, who already hauing complotted what she intended, told him that she knew a kins-woman of hers, that was lately brought to Bed, some twenty miles off in the Countrey, to whom she would (if it li­ked him) conuey the Infant.

Helyon was glad of her promise, appointing her all things fit for her departure, the next morning. Late in the Evening, when Pa­lia was sure none could sée her, shée went to Constantia, telling her [Page] what she had intended: Withall, asking her counsell what hée should doe.

Aye me, (quoth Constantia) I know not in this extremity what to resolue vpon, fearing never to see my Sonne againe: and if thou goest I loose my greatest comfort. Then taking the Chiloc in her armes, and bestowing many Teare-wet kisses thereon, she said Palia, I pray thee let me know what thou intendest to doe with it? Lady (quoth she) if you perswade me not to the contrary, after I am de­parted this Court, I will never leaue trauelling vntill I arriue in Assyria: where I doe not doubt but to find Persicles, vnto whom I will declare your misfortunes: But if I finde him not there, I will then Trauell into Persia, to the place where you lost him, where I shall then assuredly find him: that he (knowing your estate) may seeke to release you. And wilt thou doe this for in (said Constantia) that am neuer likely to make thée amends? I will ( qd Palia) and with such faithfulnesse execute the charge I vndertake, as shall turne to thy everlasting quiet.

Many speeches past betwixt them before they parted, but yet in the end shee was constrained to leaue Constantia, almost dead with griefe, but afterwards somewhat comforted, with the good hope she had of her faithfull dealing: Of two evils thinking it the best to commit the Babe to her custody, who by all likelyhoods inten­ded well thereto. Early the next Morning Palia departed, hauing none in her Company, with all the hast she could trauelling towards Assyria.

Helyon now beganne to meditate on Constantiaes Fortune, and who should be the Father of her Childe: and whereas before he de­termined to penne her vp in that Cloyster, vntill she would yéeld to his desire, he now resolued to revenge the disdaine she had showne, in refusing his Loue, with all Cruelty: that finding occasion when none could interrupt his spéeches, being alone with her in her cham­ber, he thus sayd. Disdainefull and discourteous Lady, did you estéeme so basely of my Loue, in my contempt, to choose some base­borne Peasant, to possesse that which I long sought with such deuo­ted affection: and refusing my Honorable proffer, to chuse rather to become anothers Harlot. Who would euer haue thought thy come­ly person shadowed with so faire a pretext, had inwardly nourished [Page] such ignoble affections. Doe you thinke the King of Persia will re­joyce to heare that his faire Daughter Constantia, (that may well be termed Incontinency) hath so vildly stained her Princely blood and defamed her Royall stocke, with so infamous a fact, or not rather dye with griefe.

Therefore to prevent so great a mischiefe as will come by his death, I will be the meane to kéep thy fact from comming to his know­ledge, and in his behalfe, worke such Revenge as shall be agréeable to so great an offence. Yet let me know the cause of thy contempt against mée, and who is the Father of thy bastard? Which if thou refusest to doe by gentle meanes to vnfold, I will by force compell thée thereunto.

Constantia with Patience heard out his spéeches, and with as great Patience answered him. Helyon, I can well beare your Opprobrious spéeches, neyther will I impugne how scandalous they are: For the Father of this Infant is as good as your selfe, and him I Loue, farre more honourable and vertuous then Helyon, King of Arabia, who ensureth me according to the quality of his owne disposition. The reason I left my Fathers Court, was to avoyd your importunate suite, which was vnpleasing to me, in respect of the hono­rable Loue I imbraced: therefore beware you abuse not Constantia. For though the King of Persia will not revenge my wrongs, yet there is a King as mighty as hée, claymeth my possession, and will not suffer me to be injured.

What? is a King the Father of that Bastard ( qd he?) No thou shalt never perswade mée to that, for it looketh not like a King, but is the perfect Image of a Foole. Yea (said Constantia,) and yet a King as wise as thy selfe, and that ere long thou shalt know, for the Father thereof is priuy to all thy Actions, although thou thinkest me safely kept.

And if thou doest murther it, I care not, for thy selfe will be the first that shall repent the déed. And for me, vse me well, for the Father of this Child loueth thée well, and yet thou wilt be thine owne de­struction in séeking his death.

Helyon vnderstood not her meaning, maruelling who it should be she meant, that he sayd: I thinke thou art madde, or counterfey­test some deceyt by the ambiguity of thy spéeches: for how can the [Page] Father of that Brat loue me? Or what cause should there be to make me repent any thing that I should doe to it: Which the rather shall suffer my wrath, because of thy derisions: Therefore resolue me, or be assured of my euerlasting hatred. I neither (said she) regard thée, nor thy hate: vtterly denying to fulfill thy request in any respect. Yet if thou hadst not demanded it, I would peraduenture haue told it thée: Doe the worst thou canst, I care not for misery, it selfe hath made me so resolute to endure the greatest extremity. And know, that I so much the more dislike this Babe, because it is like thée, that hath no sparke of honour or honesty in thée. Aske me no more questions, for I will not answer thereto, estéeming my selfe more for­tunate in thy hatred, then thy friendship: for the one is but y ^e distem­perate motion of a Cowardly disposition, and the other, the inconstant falshood of a shallow-Wit.

Helyon was much vexed to sée how lightly she estéemed him that almost ready to teare his haire, he went raging and swearing from her, meditating which way to worke hi [...] Revenge. Selia noting his distemperature, by his pale Countenance, asked him what had dis­quieted him? To whom he gaue no answer at all, casting a scorne­full looke towards her; which she tooke in such suspitious sort, that she presently supposed he did it in scorne of her, and her heart being puft vp full of Iealousie, could not detaine it selfe, from bursting forth into Teares, and then into these spéeches.

My Lord, I now perceiue the Loue you protested to beare mée, is altered, and I like a poore Cast away, like to liue in misery: would to God I had still liued in my contented estate in Persia, then should I not haue béene subject to these misfortunes. Constantia whom you tol [...]e me loved you not, is she that hath stolne away your Affection, and on her you dote, despising me: wherein you shew the inconstan­cy of your variable disposition: besides, she hath disclosed what I am, and that maketh me be scorned and despised of the Ladies of this Court, that the misery I am like to endure, is intollerable. Doe not (said he) disquiet your selfe with the least suppose of such alteration in me: for by Heaven I vow, I love none but your selfe: the cause of my vexation is, how to revenge my selfe on Constantia, that euen now hath vsed me with approbrious termes. Besides, she is brought to Bed of a Bastard, begotten of some base-borne Peasant, which [Page] shall not liue long to vexe me. I would I had left her in Persia, so haue béene deuoured by wilde beasts, rather then pittying her, for to worke my selfe this disquiet. Should I send word to the King of Persia, he would compell me to marry her, or else bring open Warre against my Kingdome: or if I should séeke her death, the knowledge thereof would by some meanes come to his hearing, and then would he séeke revenge against me: that in this extremity, I know not which way to ridde my selfe from her. Selia, hearing him say she had a Bastard, presently beganne to suspect it was his: which she would then haue vttered, but that feare and premeditated hope of revenge against Constantia, withheld her, thinking first to learne the truth before she would offend him: perceiving his inconstant dispo­sition to be such, that the least thing altered his Loue: deferring the same vntill her Moneth was ended, by which meanes Constantia re­sted voyd of disturbance. The flame of envious suspition, burnt so furiously in her brest, that as soone as she had forsaken the Monaste­ry, and had a while with all kindnesse behaued her selfe towards the Nobles and Ladyes of most estimation, thereby to insinuate into their good opinion, she came to Constantia fawning vpon her with an affable countenance, and vsing many spéeches of curtesie towards her, with intent to lift out the truth of her suspition. Helyon, hea­ring that she was in the Monastery, fearing shée would haue done Constantia some violence, followed her, and found her in quiet con­ference with her. Selia séeing him there, was halfe astonished, sup­posing he had not knowne thereof: and withall, now of a truth sus­pecting that he came to visit Constantia of Loue, and not to séeke her: againe burst foorth into teares, whereon he tooke occasion to say, Se­lia, I perceiue suspition is the cause of your disquiet: Therefore so shew what little cause you haue to vse me so, doe but say what I shall doe to this dishonourable Lady, and I will performe it. Constantia then began to feare some mischiefe was neare her, which might ea­sily haue béen perceiued by the oft change of her countenance: who made this reply. Helyon, if thy Quéene knew how much I disdai­ned thee, such motions of suspect for me, would not disquiet her▪ For I contemne the base dispositions, which is ready to alter with the [...]last of euery inconstant winde, Or Selia doest thou thinke that my minde will stoope to his base lust, or become Concubine to so degene­rate [Page] a wretch, and to thy Husband? No, I will rather sée thy body forne into péeces, and suffer the cruellest misery in the World: he threatned me with terrible spéeches, but his Cowards heart is not of courage to execute his detested will. Therefore thou that peradven­ture art of a more hardy and inhumane disposition, commest to en­courage him to mischiefe: doe the worst you can both, for I feare you not, but would gladly be ridde out of this miserable life. And ridde thou shalt soone be (said Selia) notwithstanding thy counterfeit dis­simulation, thinking with disdainfull spéeches to colour thy wicked­nesse: I am indéed come to be revenged on thée, that crossest my con­tent, and first shall that Bastard féele the smart of my wrath: then catching the Child out of the cradle where it lay, she held the same by the Héeles in the one hand, and the knife in the other, ready to de­priue it of life, vntill Helyon withheld her, and Constantia sayd, Nay, Let her murther it, and let herselfe be the first that will repent it: yet first view it well, and sée if it resemble not the Father that stan­deth by: I assure thée it is his, and that thou shalt soone know.

Out vpon thée (said Helyon) I defie thée. With that Selia view­ed it well, and perceived that it resembled him perfectly, wherewith she cast the same on the Earth, saying: Did you bring me hither to doe me this intollerable wrong,? Shall I suffer my selfe to be thus abused, and liue to endure perpetuall discontent? The Péers of this Land shall vnderstand the wrongs I sustaine, and if none else, mine owne hands shall worke revenge. Constantia, then said Selia, take vp the Infant, and cherish it, for it is thine owne: My child by this time is conveyed farre enough from thy power, by Palia, who pitty­ing my distresse, and scorning to be subject to the base Pride, hath en­terchanged one for the other, leaving thine with me, and carrying my Infant into Assyria, vnto the King Persicles, who is Father thereof, who I doe not doubt, will soone revenge the wrong is done to me: Neither doe thou jealously suspect me for that degenerate K. thy Husband: for she that is Daughter to the King of Persia, scor­neth to be thy Corriuall: if I had dealt vnfaithfully with him, then might he worthily haue inflicted this punishment vpon mée: but his owne Conscience knoweth I alwayes refused to yéeld to loue him, my Loue being before vowed to the King of Assyria. Both of them were amazed at her spéeches. Selia with haste taking vp her sonne, [Page] that lay sprawling at her féet, almost halfe dead with crying: an [...] [...] ­lyon after a déepe study, saying: Constantia, I perceiue thou know­est not how vnable the King of Assyria is to redéeme thée from hence, being lately dispossest of his Crowne by the King of Armenia, and by the Treason of his owne Subjects, being himselfe driuen to liue in obscurity. Therefore this will I doe in satisfaction of my mind against thée: thou shalt never depart from hence, but in this Cloyster end thy life, vnlesse the most valiantest Knight in the world redeeme thée: for such a sure Guard will I set ouer thée, as shall be overcome by none. Constantia was no whit grieved to heare that Doome of her Imprisonment, but onely the suspect she had of his spéeches of Persicles, overcame her heart with such feare, that she fell downe in­to a deadly trance: Those that were about her, having much adoe to recover her. Wherewith they left her: Helyon giuing command that most diligent search should be made for Palia, through the whole Countrey of Arabia.

CHAP. IX. How Helyon built an Enchanted Tower, and put Constantia therein. How he was imprisoned therein himselfe in great misery, by the Enchantresse Ila.

WIthin few Dayes after, Helyon purposing to effect that which he had Vowed, calling all the cunningest Workemen of his Land before him, asking their advice, about building a Castle of invincible strength, which they promised him to performe: and so began to Worke, scituating the same vpon a Rocky hill of excéeding large­nesse, that was encompassed with a Lake of ex­céeding depth. First encompassing the circuit of the ground, with a well framed of the hardest Marble, of such smoothnesse, without, and height, that it was not to be ascended. Over the Lake they fram [...]d a Bridge of excéeding beauty, placing at the entrance two Porches or Fortifications betwixt them setting a Gate of Brasse, curiously wrought, with carued Images of Lyons, being the Armes of Arabia, [Page] On the midst they placed a Draw bridge, drawne vpon such deuices. as the labour of one man was able to doe the same with spéed.

At the further end of the Bridge, was their builded a most curi­ous wrought Gate-house, garnished with stones of sundry colours, and exceeding strange: The entrance thereto was another Gate of Brasse, farre excéeding the first, for beauty, bignesse and strength, in the midst aboue the top thereof, were placed in the carued forme of sixe Golden Lyons of excéeding bignesse, whose proportion might be discerned farre off. Within this Porch was there a large Court, en­compassed round with Turrets, Walls, and Fortifications: within the compasse whereof, an Army of Souldiers might lye encamped. The next Entrance, was thrée gates of Brasse, carued like the other two: over which was built a Tower of wonderfull Beauty, and workmanship framed of Adamant, cut out and carued into the forme of sorts of Beasts, Trées, Hearbs, and Fowles: the beauty whereof, would haue held the beholder in admiration: on the tops whereof, were built foure Pinacles in a Squadrant, whose glistering Vaines and carued worke, shone against the Sunne, as if the same had béene framed of beaten Gold. Within this Tower, was there a Court, encompassed round about with most rich and stately Buildings, ha­uing severall doores into every building of an invincible strength, framed all of one proportion, guilded over with Gold. The Window of an excéeding largenes and beauty: supported by two Lyons of car­ued Allablaster, guilded ouer with Gold: On the top next to the Eues two Cherubs standing in forme of Angels, of carued Gold, suppor­ting the Picture of a beautifull Lady: the Windowes discovering the excéeding richnesse of the Chambers within. In the midst of this Court, was framed a cléere Fountaine, with diuers streames of wa­ter, springing from the same, curiously carued, and guilded over with Gold: the brightnesse glistering such a reflection of the Sunnes beames round about, that at the first entrance it would haue dazeled the beholders eyes.

At the further end of this Court was there a Hall of excéeding largenes, supported within, with Pillars of Geate, beset with stones of sundry colours, and excéeding richnesse, the Skréene being framed of the most curious worke of carued-Wood: the Roofe of Stone, wherein were coloured out the formes of all kinds of Fruits: the [Page] Walls hung with Rich-Hangings of Arras, containing the Histories of the Warres of Troy. In the midst of this Hall, was fastned two Pillars, where to were chained two Lyons of huge bignes, and won­derfull strength, denying any farther Entrance. The farther end of the Hall, was without any Wall at all, supported by Pillars of the same Geate, lying open into a Garden of excéeding largenesse, which at the first entrance into the Hall was gloriously discerned. In which were made Walkes for pleasure, Arbours, borders of Flowers, the formes of all things cut out in Hearbs: Flowers to delight the Eye, please the smell, and of strange formes, and all things so curiously wrought, as was strange to behold. In the midst of this Garden, stood a Banqueting-house of round proportion, the foundation suppor­ted by 4. Lyons of carued blew Stone called Ayres: The Windowes round about that encompassed the same, through which the Light passed cléerely without impediment: the Pillars, Casements, and other proportions of such excellent workmanship, that it séemed to be altogether framd of Christall. On the top of this house stood the forme of an Angell framed of beaten Gold pointing with his finger towards the other Lodgings of wonderfull rich Building. At the farther end of the Garden, the discription whereon is hereafter set down. When He­lyon had finished this worke, he called vnto him, one called Penthrasus, an ancient professor of Necromancy, and with him alone, went vnto the Pallace, she wing the same, and why he had built it, desiring his Counsell and ayd to the performance of his Will.

Penthrasus desirous likewise to practise his Art, which before he durst not doe, for by the Lawes of the Land, the same was punished with death. Which now he thought none durst contradict, because the King was consenting thereto: Promised by his Art to make the same so invincible, that it should never be overcome by strength nor policy. Then did he advise the King to bring Constantia thither, and two Damzels to attend her, attyring her with most Rich Or­naments. When the King had performed this, and delivered her to Penthrasus: taking a Condition of him, that none but himselfe should be suffred to haue entrāce there, he departed, leaving her there to be entertained of Penthrasus; who led her into the Castle, ap­pointing her Damzels where they should haue all things necessary: and withall, telling her that it should be many yéeres before she should [Page] be delivered. After he had placed her there, he beganne to cast about for to Fortifie the same: And first by his Art, he found that there lived in the Desart of Arabia, two mighty Giants of vnwonted pro­portion, and huge strength, whom hée found out, casting such a be­witched Charme vpon them, that they presently followed him vnto the Castle, which he afterwards named Penthrasus Pallace; by his Charmes and Spells binding them to kéepe the first entrance of the Bridge, and by his Sorceries guarding every entrance in such strong sort, as it was impossible to be overcome. When he had performed every thing according to his minde, hée brought thither his Wife, named Ila, determined to spend the rest of his life there. Within few yeares he fell sicke, and by his Art found the date of his life to be nigh an end. Whereupon he went vnto the Oracle of the Hesperian Nymphs in the Desart, which he was stricktly enjoyned vnto by a Vision, which he saw in his sléepe, to know what he should deter­mine as concerning those charme, she had set vpon the Castle? Whose answer was this:

Penthrasus, because by thine Art thou hast not attempted any wickes Action, and to disclose the Destinies, many a Knight of sundry strange Countries shall heare of the beauty of Constantia, and shall come to try their Adventures to set her at Liberty, but yet none shall performe it: neyther shall it be Revealed, that shée is Daughter to the King of Persia; vntill shée be released by the valour of her owne Sonne. The manner and meanes how, is as yet hid­den and vnrevealed: vntill which time. Ila shall liue, and by our Directions governe the Castle, vntill the Enchantments be ended. Penthrasus having received his Answer, returned home, and within few dayes dyed.

Thus was Constantia enclosed, enjoying all the Delights her heart could desire, but nothing could comfort her, but the Remem­brance of Persicles, for whose absence she liued in continuall sorrow.

Helyon kept that which he had done concerning Constantia, from the knowledge of Selia, determining never to see her againe: but within short time, such discord beganne betwixt him and Selia, that by meanes thereof, the whole Court was in an vprore, and he found such disquiet with her, that then he began to hate her, abandon her company, and beganne excéedingly to dote with remembrance of [Page] Constantia: repenting him of the evill he had done her; and resoluing againe to set her at Liberty, or else to obtaine of Penthrasus, to liue for ever with her in the Castle; and by extraordinary meanes to at­taine her Loue. And vpon a time he rode thither, determining to haue a sight of her: Where when he came, he found the Gate at y ^• entrance of the Bridge fast shut, and nothing but a horne hanging thereat, fast­ned to a Chaine, which he Winded; and with that one of the Giants came forth, with whose sight he stood affrighted till he asked him what he sought? I would (said Helyon) speake with Penthrasus. With that the Gyant had him come in, and shutting fast the Entrance, brought him before Ila, who presently knew him, saying: I know the cause of thy comming, which thou shalt never obtaine: For which disloyall thought, and other ignoble déeds, thou shalt never depart from hence, vntill the Lady thou causedst to be inclosed here, be set at Liberty: With that, not suffering him to reply, she caused him to be bound, and carryed into a darke Dungeon, where he was hardly Dyeted, and worse intreated.

Ila hauing him in her custody, knowing that none else was priuy to Constantiaes being there, caused these Verses to be written in Let­ters of Gold, and hung ouer the outtermost Gate, and by the same, Constantiaes Picture, whereon she had cast such a Spell, that all that beheld it, were in Loue with it.

[Page]When Ila had written these Verses, and placed them vnder the picture, she withdrew her selfe into the Castle, staying the comming of the first Knight for the Adventure.

CHAP. X. What befell to Palia, how she was devoured by Wilde Beasts. How the young Infant was found by a Lady, who cherished him, and after­wards named him Mont [...]lion.

NOw returned wée to speake of Palia, and what befell to the Infant. After she had trauelled out of Arabia, resoluing with a faith [...]ull heart, to execute what she had vndertaken, and attained to the bounds of Assyria, shée soone vnderstood those evill Newes of the Armenians victorie: whereby she was assured, it would be in vaine to séeke Persicles there: and therefore she retur­ned towards Persia, intending to follow Constantiaes directions to find him: but being wearied with continuall travelling, she sat her­selfe downe vpon a Mountaine, standing in a vaste and Desolate place, on the top whereof, grew a tuft of Trées that shadowed her from the heate of the Sunne: where she had not long rested, but the Boy fell fast asleepe, and she being very hungry, began to séeke for Fruit, no other foode being there to be gotten, leaving him vpon the Mount. Palia, wandring into the Thicket by misfortune was de­uoures of a Lyon: and so the poore Infant left ready to be destroyed, but the Destenies that had alotted him to better fortune, thus pre­serued him. Not farre off, their dwelt an ancient Knight named Cothanes, who with his Lady, the same day had beene Hunting, and now she being weary of the sport, with two servants in her compa­ny, chanced to alight at the very place where the Babe lay: who by that time awaked, and missing his Nurse began to cry. The Lady hearing the noyse, searched among the Trées, and presently found the Child, which she tooke vp in her armes, commanding one of her ser­vants to take vp a bundle of cloathes that lay by the same, and to [...] his Horne, that Cothanes hearing it, might come vnto them: [Page] Who according to her desire came, asking what was the matter? You haue (said she) all this day Hunted after Wild beasts, and lost your labour, but I haue found a richer Prize▪ yet by what misfor­tune left in this place I know not: With that they both viewed the Child, well noting his excéeding beauty, and swéet countenance, with great joy carrying him home,: by the way naming him Montelyon: finding in the fardell many rich Iewels, and a faire Embroydered Scarffe, whereby they knew him to be of no meane Birth: educa­ting him carefully, and after he was come to knowledge, teaching him many commendable and vertuous qualities. When he came to the age of fourtéene yeares, Cothanes taught him how to Ride and manage a Horse, taking him forth with him many times on Hun­ting, delighting wonderfull in his forwardnesse. Wherein he shewed such aptnesse, that he could not offer to teach him any thing, but he soone grew to be as perfect therein as himselfe. Whom we will leaue to be Educated by Cothanes, and returne to speake of Persicles; and what befell to him after the losse of Constantia.

CHAP. XI. How Pisor being recovered, perswaded Persicles to crave ayde of the King of Persia, against his Enemies: How hee obtained the same, and carried a mighty Host into Assiria; which was there overthrowne.

AFter that Persicles had in heavines and sorrow wan­dred vp and downe those Woods, the space of thrée moneths, and Pisor again come to his remembrance: Upon a time they both met, Pisor saluting him with great reverence. Persicles séeing he was come to his right sences againe, asked him what became of Constantia? My Lord ( qd he) I found her in the Shepheards house, telling her you would presently returne, but when she saw you stay so long, vnawares to me, she went out of the Cottage to séeke you: I soone missing her, thought to ouertake her, to direct her vnto the place where I l [...]ft you, and by misfortune tasted of that Omi­nous fruit. Then sayd Persicles, she is assuredly deuoured by wilde [Page] Beasts, and I shall neuer sée her againe. My misfortunes excéeding the bounds of common miseries: that I would to God I had ended my selfe when I was first borne, then should not both Assyria, and Persia haue had such cause of discontent.

My Lord (quoth Pisor) I cannot be perswaded that she is dead, but by some misfortune wandred out of knowledge, or carried hence by some vnexpected meanes: Therefore I beséech you beare her losse with patience, and in the end I doe not doubt but you shall heare of her safety. Thou giuest me words full of comfort (said he) but thou hast no ground for them: Nor can I tell how by them to adde any hope of my restlesse passions: for that she is lost I am sure, but that I shall never sée her againe, I thinke it impossible: being driuen to so hard an exigent of extremity, that I neither know what to doe, nor whose ayde to implore. Thou séest another hath shut me from my Kingdome, and in my absence wonne my subjects heart from me. The King of Persia, hearing of the wrong done to him, will become mine Enemy, and then is there no place of refuge left for mée but in this place best be fitting my misery. My Lord (said Pisor,) yet if I may be so bolde as counsell you, let vs goe to the Persian Court, I as I am, and you in that disguise, for none but your sister Piera, being priuy to your escape with Constantia, you may safely and without feare goe thither, both to conferre with Piera, and to craue the Persi­ans assistance to establish you in your Kingdome.

Persicles vnwilling to leaue those Woods where he was, determi­ned to dwell for ever there: But finding no hope thereby to recouer Constantia, and also being perswaded by Pisor, he condiscended to goe with him, and thereupon immediately departed. When they approa­ched neare to the Court, Pisor rode on before, and entring the Court, he soone found Piera declaring to her the misfortune that was befallen to Persicles and Constantia: and how that he was without the Court, staying vntill he returned, to know whether he might with safety come to speake with her, or no? Piera then presently sent for him by Pisor, and other of her Knights, who brought him into the Court, whither he was welcommed by her, with great Ioy: With whom he continued sometime in priuate Conference. Piera counselling him to discouer himselfe to the King of Persia, and to craue his ayde against the Armenians, who would readily assist him; Whereof she told him, [Page] he néeded not to doubt, for that he had euer béene his Friend, nor knew not of his escape with Constantia, which none but her selfe and Dela were priuy vnto.

Whilest they continued in this conference, Deloratus came in, and espying one in such priuate with his Wife in that disguise, wondred who it should be. Piera soone espyed him, and leauing her Brother went to him, and told him who it was: Wherewith he embraced Persicles in his Armes, now perfectly remembring him, although griefe had much altered him. After many spéeches past, Deloratus, he, and Piera, went to the King of Persia, who knowing him, welcom­med him, with excéeding kindnesse. Persicles then vnfolded his Mis­fortunes vnto him, & desired his assistance, in revenge of the wrongs the Armenians had done him. Which the King of Persia willingly yéelded vnto him: giuing authority vnto Deloratus to muster Souldiers and make provision for their expedition. The newes hereof was suddenly rumoured in the Court, and many thousands of Knights vnconstrained, prepared to ayde Persicles, whom they honoured for his excéeding valour and curtesie; purposing to spend their liues in his Defence, that of a sudden one part of the Country was vp in Armes, and a great Force was assembled, and conducted into Assyria, by Deloratus, and Persicles, and Pisor, and Osimus, and also many other Knights of excéeding valour: Of whose worthy Exployts, we will hereafter speake more at large.

Persicles had such ill successe, that after he had continued a long time in Assyria, yet he so little prevailed, that he was compelled thrice to flye backe into Persia to renew his Forces. These cruell Warres continued many yeares, the King of Armenia, defending himselfe, and kéeping possession of the Crown, notwithstanding the Persian Forces.

Deloratus perceiuing that the long continuance of those Warres had wasted a number of his subjects, and yet notwithstanding Persi­cles was so farre from possession of his right, as at the first beginning of those tedious Warres, determined to giue ouer: and therefore as­sembled together such as were the chiefest Rulers ouer the Hoast, to know their opinion, what further to determine. Who with a gene­rall consent, perswading him once againe to renew his Forces, and if that then they did not prevaile, neuer more to giue the Onset.

CHAP. XII. How Persicles his Army was renewed. And how Montelyon, being denyed by his supposed Father, stole to the Campe. And how hee preserved Persicles life. How Cothanes knew him, and discove­red what he knew of his Birth. And how he received Knight-hood at Persicles hand.

NOw Persicles séeing Deloratus was ready to shrink away from him, being himselfe wearied with that tedious Warre, went likewise with resolution, eyther then to end his life, or ever after to aban­don the company of all men, and end his dayes in solitarinesse: Deloratus therefore sent Mes­sengers into Persia, to muster new Forces, who in short time returned, that the Persian Campe was full fourescore thousand strong. Amongst the rest, it so fortuned that Cothanes (being in Youth accounted a man of great valour, and now being somewhat growne in yeares, of great Experience) determined not to giue his mind to sloth, being touched with griefe, to heare what a number of his Country-men were slaine: therefore told his Lady what hée intended: who with teares and many intreaties disswaded him, but all could not prevaile, his heart was so fully set thereon.

Montelyon being now growne to mans estate, hearing thereof, entreated Cothanes (whom he estéemed to be his Father, and so called him) that he might goe with him: but Cothanes would by no meanes consent thereto: the rather, for that his Lady most earnestly requested him, that if it were so that he would néeds goe himselfe, yet that he would not leaue her altogether comfor [...]les, by taking Monte­lyon with him. Therefore all his intreaties nothing prevailed, but of necessity he was enforst to stay. Cothanes being departed, Mon­telyon continued some two dayes excéedingly pensiue, so much trou­bled in his thoughts, with griefe to be left behind, that he refused his meate: and notwithstanding the manifold kindnesses his suppo­sed Mother vsed him withall, yet he thought all things troublesome. Which desire so much prevailed with him, that furnishing himselfe [Page] with good store of Coyne, secretly one Night he conveyed his Stéed without the Castle Walles: and when all thought he had bin in his Chamber, he was departed. By that time it was day he approached neare the City of H [...]lo [...]os, where he stayed some thrée dayes, vntill he had furnished himselfe with Armour, which he caused a workman to frame of excéeding pure Lydian stéele, bearing this Devise. His Armor Silver, interset with the formes of divers Beasts and Trées of burnisht Gold. And in his Shield, a naked Man amongst a tuft of Trées: Which devise he caused to be made of purpose, to be known different from the rest.

Having furnished himselfe in this sort he left the City, and jour­neyed toward the Persian Campe in Assyria: Where he was no soo­ner come, but he found the Battels joyned in most cruell Fight, and a number of Souldiers on both sides slain, lying covered and besmea­red in Blood: Some with their Swords fast grasped in their hands threatning: Others with a hideous noyse breathing foorth their latest gaspes: Then in the Camp beheld he some flying, others pursuing: some standing fast in cruell Conflict: others with fierce terror sleying those that was next them: Some with hideous cryes, animating their followers: Others with feare, crying retire. There did he behold both Persians and Armenians, intermingled slaughte­tering each other. Wherewith he a while stood as one amazed, ha­uing never before beheld such cruell Conflicts: At last he beheld a most gallant Knight, with his Sword drawne, and all couered with blood, hurling vp and downe amongst the Armenians: performing admirable déeds of Chivalrie, but at last encompassed with such a multitude of his Enemies, that he knew it was im [...]ossible for him to escape. Which sight, stirred vp such sparks of courage and desire to succour him, that his heart vrging him to more forwardnesse then his Stéed could performe: and yet his Stéed with furious pace, running as swift as might be, rusht in amongst the thickest of [...]hem: At the first piercing his Lance through the bodies of two that were opposite before him: and his Stéed with his vnstayed course, [...]verthrowing others, and treading them downe vnder his Féet: [...]hen drawing his Sword, whose brightnesse dazeled the sight of such [...]s beheld it, vntill he had darkened the Splendor with their purple [...]ood: mangling, slaughtering, and destroying such as withstood his [Page] passage: vntill he approached the Persian Knight, who without his approach, had there ended his Life: but finding himselfe at more li­berty, by the assistance of this new-come Gallant, he againe redou­bled his abated Courage, ioyning themselves both together, perfor­ming such honoured Valor, as by their onely resistance, the thronged multitudes of Armenians disperst themselves, euery one hasting to get without their reach. Now the Knight that Montelyon had res­cued, was the Noble King Persicles, who séeing how valiantly this New-come Gallant had rescued him, and preserved his life, said thus vnto him. Noble Knight, thy Valor hath preserved me: For which Persicles will not be vngratefull. And if thou béest a friend to me, as thou hast already showne, second me, and I will once again try my Fortune. With that Montelyon held vp his hand, in signe he gaue consent. Then Persicles with spéed hasted into the foremost of the Battell, and Montelyon followed, making such way, as none stood to resist them, but they dyed. Where they found Deloratus, Pisor, Osimus, Cothanes, and a number of Gallant Knights in combat, beset with oddes, but that disadvantage was soone turned to advantage, by their approach: for there did Montelyon performe such déeds of excéeding Valor, as made the whole Persian and Armenian Hosts ad­mire him. Then began the Persians to gather new courage to assaile their enemies, continuing the skirmish with equall strength, against them. Palian the vsurping K. of Assyria, thinking to haue the advan­tage against the Persians, as in times past they had, called the chie­fest Rulers to him, exhorting them to courage to resist their enemies. Vpon whose exhortation, the Armenians with vndaunted courage followed the battell on both sides with great eagernes, that the Persi­an Gouernours were enforced to fly [...] to their Companies, to encou­rage them to resistance, only Montelyon and Persicles still kept toge­ther, making thousands of the Armenians pay their liues for tribute to their conquering Swords: Whilst they continued the fight in the fore-front of the Battell, they suddenly heard a cry on the outside of the battell, with which noyse, Montelyon not regarding to be coun­selled set spurs to his Horse, and hasted thither, where he found Delo­ratus, though to him vnknowne, in the throng of a multitude of Ar­menians, vnhorsed, and fighting on foot, so sore wounded, and agains [...] such ods, that he was ready to faint, and by force to be taken: Amongs [...] [Page] whom, Montelyon rushed with such fury, spoyling them, that hée succoured Deloratus, and having againe with the helpe of some of his owne Knightsset him on Horse-backe, sent him to his Tent with a sufficient Guard: and returning againe towards Persicles, he espy­ed Cothanes his Father, whom he knew by his Armour, vnhorst, and newly by force taken prisoner, but before they could conuey him from thence, Montelyon began so cruell a fight, that with the losse of ma­ny of their liues, he set him at liberty. Then began the Arminians somewhat to Retire, hauing such a number of them slaine, and finding their enemies pursue them so fiercely, that Palion perceived the Per­sians would that day he conquerors: yet notwithstanding calling to him two Knights, the one named Althesus, the other Petron, who were most renowned of all the Armenians, he said to them, Ioyne with me, and let vs once againe repell these faint hearted Persians: With that, they thrée with a multitude of their chiefest soldiours, kept a head together, and fronted the battell where Persicles fought, Palion knowing him, with a Lance ready coucht ran at him, which lighted vpon his Shield, where it burst in péeces, not once piercing the well tempered stéele. Then both Pallion, Althesus, and Petron, all at once assailed him, whom Persicles resisted with excéeding v [...]lour, continu­ing so long as any Knight could possible doe: But at last the oddes being so great, he was driuen onely to defend their swift blowes, that were followed with eagernes: then began he to wish for the strange Knight, that had all that day succoured him, expecting nothing but death. By this time Montelyon had rescued Cothanes, and again got him Horse and weapon, which done he left him, and euen at that time that Persicles ▪ wisht for him, came, and espying thrée knights assailing him alone, ayming his sword point at Petrons brest, who was next him, and running at him with all the force his horse could make, run the same through his body, and with the like intent, ayming the same at Palion, he ran at him, that had he not avoyded his Encounter, he had either slaine, or sore wounded him, but missing, he let driue at h [...]m with his sword with such force, that in short space he gaue him many wounds. Persicles like wise hauing none but Althesus to resist, Com­bated with him brauely, who with like valour resisted him: In the end Palion finding himselfe so overmatcht, began to retire, which Montelyon perceiuing, gaue him no respit to flye.

Then was their Battaile most terrible to behold, the Persians [Page] comforted by the only valour of Montelyon, ran vpon their Enemies with vnresisted fury. And the Armenians séeing one of theis chiefe Champions dead, and their Generall retire, were amazed: and ra­ther ready to flye then to stand out: which animated their Foes with courage to pursue the [...], euen as long as the day lasted.

Montelyon still porsued Palion, in whose Rescue many of his Knights interset themselves, and dyed by his Sword: and notwith­standing bée withdrew himselfe, yet Montelyon followed him so neare, that he often put him in danger of his life: vntill he was so farre past i [...] amongst th [...]ir Troupes, that he was compelled with his Sword to make his way to get out again [...]. In which Retyre, many of the Armenians, dyed.

The Night now drawing nigh, whilest the Armenians sound Retra [...], and the Persian Generals busie in gathering together their scattered Followers,, Montelyon had time to consider what was best for him to doe, and whether it were convenient to discover him­selfe or no: at last, determining to depart in secret, he espyed Persi­cles bare hy him, who of purpose had watched him, misdoubting that which he intended, who came vnto him, and sayd. Sir Knight, the kindnesse I haue found in you, emboldneth me to desire your compa­ny, and intreat you to accept of my Tent, to ropose your selfe in: For that I suppose you are a Stranger, and it were incovenient for you to Iourney after so great labour, having this day with such Honour defended me, that I account my selfe yours, and my life preserved by your onely Valor. Therefore deny me not, that I may in some sort requite your kindnesse.

Montelyon haui [...]g heard Cothanes oftentimes excéedingly commend the King for Valour and curtesie, likewise hauing know­ledge how to behaue himselfe, as well to the meanest as to the grea­test personages, being by Cothanes nobly educated, and of his owne Inclination more apt to conceiue, then they are able to instruct, knowing it to be the King himselfe, bowing his body, sayd: Most honoured King, I am vnfit the honour you proffe [...] me, and my de­serts no way deseruing the commendations you giue them: there­fore I beséech you, not to attribute to me more then is befitting my meane estate, but rather licence me to attend you, in all humble du­ty: My Life and all vttermost endeavors, being vowed to be spent in [Page] your service, and my selfe ready to be at your disposition. This sayd Persicles and he departed into the Campe, whether they were wel­commed with the shoutes and rejoycing of the Persian Souldiers. Deloratus hearing that applaud, came forth of his Tent to sée what was the cause thereof, and espying Persicles and the strange Knight together, came vnto them, they both alighting to salute him, Delo­ratus would by no meanes suffer them to depart, but intreated them to lodge in his Tent that night, which Persicles could not deny: and therefore taking Montelyon in kinde sort betwéene them, they entred the same, where he was vnarmed: but when they beheld his youth, they wondred thereat, to be accompanyed with such excéeding va­lour, both Delo [...]atus and Persicles vsing him with great kindnesse. Then presently the principall Commanders of the Campe, assem­bled themselves to their Generals Tents, to know what they did de­termine. Amongst the rest Cothanes, who at the first entrance into the Tent, espyed his sonne Montelyon, his head being onely disarmed, and by his armour knowing it was he that had so honoura­bly preserved his life, and defended himselfe: had much a doe to con­taine himselfe from rejoycing: likewise Montelyon séeing him, vp­on his knée intreated him to pardon his boldnesse in comming to the Campe without his consent. Cothanes with great joy tooke him vp, and imbraced him. Persicles séeing that sayd to Cothanes, My friend is this thy sonne? My Lord sayd he, he is my sonne, and he calleth me Father, and yet I am vnworthy to be father to such a sonne, that hath this day showne himselfe rather to be the sonne of some Heroicke King. And my Lord, because his worthinesse shall not be darkened with the ignoble Title of Cothanes his sonne. I will declare to you all that I know of him. Indéed hée is not my sonne, but my Lady and I being one day a hunting, found him vpon the top of a Mount [...]in swadling clothes: which were such, as shewed hée was not of meane parentage, but of honourable race: his Nurse as it should séeme, being distr [...]ssed for want of food, was wandred from him, whose carkasse and clothes we found not farre off, destroyed by a Lyon: since which time, with carefulnesse I haue brought him vp, estéeming him a [...] mine owne sonne. This my Lord, in briefe is the whole summe of all that I know of him. They all maruelled at his words, especially Montelyon was strucken into such a sudden [Page] meditation, that for a while stood like one metamorphosed, Persicles taking him by the hand, said: Although I know not what title to giue you, yet borne you cannot be lesse then of noble bloud, as may well appeare by the manifest tokens of your heroicke dispositions: there­fore remit the care of that vntill hereafter, and vouchsafe to stay with vs, who are now both comforted with your presence, & béene preserued by your valour. My Lord (replyed Montelyon) were my desire a thousand times greater then it is yet the desire I haue to doe you ser­uice, would surmount the same, being in y ^e depth of inward affection, loue, and duty wholly addicted, and entirely deuoted to your worthi­nesse, which no desire of reward, hope of praise, or wordly respect hath bred in me, but onely the instinct of nature, that hath effectually engraffed the same in my heart: therefore I humbly desire you vouch­safe to entitle me with the honour of Knight-hood: where with if I be dignified by your vertuous hand, I shall both remaine with you, and endeauour to deserue the same. Persicles highly estéeming him, and kindly imbracing him, told him he should that night be his bed­fellow, and the next day haue his desire. With many other spéeches they ended that nights conference: every Ruler departing with care­fulnesse to set the Watches.

CHAP. XIII. How the Armenians Army with exceeding losse was discomfited.

EArely the next morning, Deloratus, Persicles, Co­thanes, and all the rest of the chiefe Commanders of the Persian Army, were assembled, who gaue order, that euery battell should be planted in such sort, as if they expected a present assault, which being performed. Montelion in great triumph was brought into the field, and by Persicles inuested with the order of Knight-hood: which when he had received, the Soul­diers gaue such shoutes, as made the ayre resound with their Ecchoes. The Armenians hearing the noise, could not judge what might be the cause thereof: some censuring one thing, some another. Palian fretting with excéeding vexation at the last dayes discom [...]iture, which went the néerest his heart, for that in all the time of warres, he had not en­dured [Page] the like, called vnto him the chiefest Knights in his Campe, which were Althesus, Golgron, Mulatus, and Lamdelyon, Knights of Honourable birth, great wisedome, and appointed valour, vttering to them his hearts griefe, and his earnest desire of revenge, desiring them with all spéed to counsell him which way to suppresse the Persi­ans courage, onely reuiued with the ayde the strange Knight had brought them. Amongst whom it was agréed, and generally held best to surprize them at vnawares in the middest of their joy: that with all spéed, and as spéedily as might be they detained their Forces, and without the noyse of either Drum or Fife, issued the City gates. Certaine Persian Spyes perceiving their intent, posted to the Camp, and certified their Generall thereof, who gaue commandement that without making any kind of suspition, they should continue their mirth, so that thereby the Armenians might be heartned, to their owne dustruction. Montelyon with a company of Horsemen depar­ted out of their Campe, a contrary way to that the Armenians came, with intent to get betwixt them and the City, which afterwards sorted to effect. The Armenians thinking to make a sudden slaughter of them, and nothing at all suspecting their readinesse to receiue them with carelesse hast approached the Campe, with gréedy desire of conquest, running vpon their Enemies. Whom they found in such orderly sort, ready to welcome them, that within an houres space they wisht themselves againe within the City Walls: To recite every particular of their Conflict, and with what terror the battell continued would dull my wits with confusion. Principally, my pen shall barely recite the admirable déeds of the most honourable of both Armies. Persicles considering what just cause he had and with what equity he might challenge his right, wrongfully detained vp his vsurping Foe, bent his Sword point with the vnrelenting Fury, to the destruction of his Enemies, pittying their deaths who dyed by his Sword, ay­ming the same rather at Palians owne heart, then against them that were by constraint enforced to hazard their dearest liues. Which when he had coloured and made drunke with many of their deaths bloud, he at last met with Palian, whom at the first encounter he had surely berest of life, had not his owne Stéed by great misfortune stum­bled at a dead body, that interrupted his steppes, but notwithstanding his Swords point by that mischance, missing his right ayme, [...] [Page] quite through his Stéeds necke, who falling, and Palian with him, both lay groueling on the ground, ready to be trodden to death. Mu­latus being next at hand, rescued Palian, and mounted him on his owne Stéed, whereby he lost his owne life: For Persicles with both his hands fetcht so full a blow at his head, that with the force thereof, his Armour yéelding some scales thereof, pierced his Braine, and he dyed. Palian for a while continued Fight with Persicles: with euery blow receiuing a déepe wound, vntill he felt himselfe so vnable to hold out, that he must eyther yéeld, dye, or retyre: but euen then came Golgron fortunately to his ayde, who with him maintained fight a­gainst Persicles: who notwithstanding that oddes, had neare hand brought them both to destruction, had he not espyed Deloratus and Cothanes in distresse, who were vnequally assailed by sixe valiant Knights, two of them being Althesus and Lamdelyon, vnto whom he hasted, giuing them succour by the death of the first he met.

Whilest the Battell was maintained in the Fore-front by the chiefe Commanders of both Armies, and Montelyon with his re­solued Follewers, whose hearts were enspired with fiery courage, to be guarded by so valiant a guide was gotten behind them, and began such a Massacre, that multitudes of a suddaine were slaughtered by his approach, whose déeds of valour amazed their sences, with such feare, and abated their courage with such terror, that like as a flocke of fearefull shéepe, espying the approach of a deuouring Lyon, ranne with amazed feare from his pawes: Euen so the Armenians fled from the destroying hands of Montelyon, filling the empty ayre with such dismall cryes, that the noyse thereof amazed the hearts of the stoutest Armenians: Palian and Golgron then turned their backes, making hast thitherwards to know the cause, Althesus and Lamdelyon did the like, whilest Deloratus and Persicles, and the rest made such hauocke against the common Souldiers, that had the fight continued long, the whole Forces of the Armenian Army had béene destroyed.

Palian and Althesus met Montelyon not knowing him: but sup­posing it was he had made such slaughter amongst them the last day, both assailed him: who in his heart rejoyced that he had met with two such Champions to make tryall of his valour continuing to braue a combat against them both, as is not to be described. By [Page] this time the cry beganne againe on the contrary side, with such hideous noise, that Palians heart was affrighted therewith, and defen­ded himselfe as if a flender youth should hold encounter against a strong Giant, till both he and Althesus were so grieuously wounded that it had béene a pittifull spectacle to behold. Both being driuen to retire amongst their scattered Troupes, and withall the haste they could, to preuent their vtter ouerthrow, to sound a retrait, and with all spéed haste vnto the City, which could not be accounted a retyre, but rather an absolute flight: for it was done with such haste, as if they had béene all amazed, none hauing the power to resist: and pur­sued by Persicles and Montelyon, with such fury, that their owne hearts relented at their owne hands cruelty, which covered the earth with the dead bodies of their affrighted Foes. The day being thus ended to the terror of the one, and comfort of the other: The Per­sians retyred as Victors, and the Armenians halfe mad with griefe, and despaire within their Wals, not minding suddenly to issue again. Persicles and Deloratus honouring Montelyon with their kinde em­bracings, and the Souldiers applauded their valours with rejoycings. Euery one according to the present occasion betooke themselues to their charges spending the time in more joy and security, then earst they had done.

CHAP. XIIII. How the Armenians sent two Knights into Armenia for more ayde, who were met, and one of them taken Prisoner, and of other ac­cidents that befell.

EArely the next morning, Palian assembled his Counsell to determine what order to take for their security: which it behooued them to doe for that their Forces were vtterly discouraged, and the Country Inhabitants knowing their law­full King to be living, beganne to reuolt, and de­nyed to ayde Palian, either with men or victuals, that he was constrained onely to kéepe himselfe within the City Walles, not suffering any to issue out, or daring in­déed [Page] to doe it, they were so strictly besieged by the Persians. When they had well considered their estates, and the misery they were like­ly to fall into, they concluded to send into Armenia, to certifie the King, which Althesus and one Mutellus two Knights of excéeding valour vndertooke to performe the next night. Montelyon, being in his Tent, determining to repose himselfe, yet féeling no desire to sléepe: calling for the Chronicles of the Warres of Antiochus King of Assyria, and spending some houres in reading that History, his Squire by his commandement being gone to Bed, about the dead time of Night, he heard the neighing of a Horse, as it séemed to him within the City: again reading and again staying to listen, his mind being somewhat troubled, being as yet in his Armour, he gyrded his Sword to his side, determining to walke the round, to see how di­ligently the Watch was kept: whom he found sléeping as soundly as if they had béene in their quiet Beds, maruelling much at their drowsinesse, but much more at their carelesnesse, he went from place to place, not minding that night to sléepe, but himselfe would watch for them all. He had not long stayed, but he espyed two in Armour, with hasty (though softly steps) passing through the Campe on foote, whom be little suspected to be any other then of his owne com­pany, thinking them to be some straglers, that séeing their fellowes in dead sléepe went to robbe: following as closely as he could, he per­ceiuing them to depart the Campe, but maruelling thereat, he drew nigher vnto them, intending to know what they were before they departed:

Althesus and Mutellus espying one to follow them, and séeing themselves now without the Campe, purposed to lay hold on him, with purpose to force him to declare what the Persians intended to doe: that turning backe to him, Althesus offered to lay hold on him. Soft quoth Montelyon, let me first know what you are? We are enemies vnto thée sayd Althesus, and therefore yéeld. Tell mée quoth hée, your names? Althesus knowing himselfe to be of great valour, and therefore not to be vnknowne of any. Besides, little thinking he would haue resisted them, told him his name was Al­thesus. Then I defie thée quoth Montelyon, for I am thine Ene­my, and will rather dye then yéeld to thée. With that Althesus drew his Sword, and strooke at him. Montelyon did the like to de­fend [Page] himselfe: and afterwards they offended him so much, that both he and Mutellus had enough to doe to saue their owne stakes and liues.

Althesus séeing his valour, desired to know his name, which Montelyon tolde him. Althesus was much disquieted therewith: and séeing his companion fallen and faint with effusion of bloud, hée thus sayd: Knight, at this time I cannot stay to end the com­bat, for by hazarding my selfe, I should endanger the liues of many: therefore farewell vntill more conuenient time to meete thée a­gaine. With that he turned his backe, and Montelyon stouped to giue his conquered adversary breath: which reuiued Mutellus: but séeing Althesus gone, his heart was ready to dye with griefe. Mon­telyon had him be of comfort, for his intent was to vse him hono­rably; with that helping him vp, he ledde him to his Tent, calling vp his Squire to attend him, and disarme him, he went presently to Persicles.

The next day Montelyon caused Mutellus to be carryed before the Generall, where hée declared the cause of their departure to­wards Armenia, which Persicles was glad to heare off: that by this foreknowledge he might preuent the purposed intent of his e­nemies: but most of all he rejoyced and commended Montelyon for this noble act. Which had they not béene discovered, might haue brought the whole Campe into great distresse: by this meanes e­very way growing into such loue, and admiration of his valour, vertue and curtesie, that they estéemed their onely defence and fe­licity consisted in his safety: that wheresoever hée went, the eyes of multitudes awayted him, as being delighted to behold him. Mutel­lus desired Persicles to appoint his ransome, but hée committed that to Montelyon, who after he had honourably feasted him, sent him ransomelesse to the City. Mutellus soone got entrance, and de­clared what misfortune had befallen him and Althesus, which turned their conceived hope of comfort into despaire, which had ouer­come them with feare, had not some little hope of Althesus escape re­uiued them.

Thus remained they many dayes within the City, so hardly be­sieged, that they were out of all hope in getting Victuals, but were driuen to content themselves with spare dyet, scantling out [Page] euery souldier and Inhabitant their allowance. Which they conti­nued likewise so long, expecting to heare from Armenia, that being frustrated, they expected nothing but miserable famine: which cau­sed them late in the night, to assemble all their old, weake and impo­tent men, vnable to serue, and all Women and Children, except some few of account, and turned them out of the City, to the number of sixtéene thousand, whose distressed estate Persicles pittied, causing them to haue sufficient food, themselues building Cabbins to defend them from the weather.

Persicles séeing the miserable estate his owne Countrey was in, and to what extremity his Subjects were brought; and by this also knowing that Palian was not able long to endure, but that both he and all those within the City, were ready to be famished, of whom many were Assyrians; that were constrained to that subjection, whose estate he pittyed, being vnwilling to be guilty of their destruction by the aduice and counsell of those he most estéemed, but principally of Deloratus and Montelyon, he sent a Herauld vnto Palian with this message; that although he did vnjustly vsurpe his Crowne and many other wayes done him intollerable injuries, yet pittying the miserable estate he was like to bring the Citizens into by his cruel­ty, he made h [...]m this proffer, that notwithstanding he might worke sufficient reuenge by his death, whose life was now in his mercy, he should without interruption, with all his Armenians, haue frée liberty to depart out of Assyria. The Herauld with this message, went vnto the City, declaring the cause of his comming. Palian assembled his Counsell and returned this answere. That what he held, was his right by conquest, and that would hold: scorning he should send any such proffer to him, that was well able to defend him­selfe, and as little regarded his courteous proffer as his malice: Wi­shing him, not to stay long, least his Fathers comming inflicted a greater punishment vpon him then he could eschew. Persicles was excéedingly vexed with his disdainefull reply, fearing indéed, that if the Kings Forces were once come, it would be a great cause to lengthen the Warres, which he earnestly desired might haue an end, that thereby he might haue respite to trauell in search of Con­stantia, for whom his heart endured excéeding torments, that being thus disquieted in his thoughts, and desirous of ease to his restlesse [Page] passions, one day amongst many that he passed ouer with pensiuenesse, he got himselfe into a solitary place, and there in sad silence meditated on his misfortune.

Montelyon by chance troubled with remembrance of his vn­knowne estate, chose the very place for his private meditations, wherein Persicles was already shrowded, and suddenly espying him, began to withdraw himselfe, vntill Persicles desired him to stay, vttering these spéeches. Worthy Knight, I perceiue some in­ward care hath made you withdraw your selfe from mée, but impart your discontent to me: if not, yet heare mine, for I haue long desired to impart them vnto one, on whose fidelity I might repose my selfe, and you are the man I haue elected, hauing had so sufficient tryall of your courtesie and friendship, that without doubting I durst commit my selfe to your secresie, for your ayde may, as heretofore it hath pre­serued me.

My Lord, replyed Montelyon, I account my selfe onely fortu­nate, in your loue, and my heart acknowledgeth my euerlasting bounden duty to none so much as to your Majesty, which bindeth me in all duty to become your vassaile, being more ready to venture my life and vttermost endeauours in your service then you can ima­gine: Therefore good my Lord, feare not to impose any taske vpon me, for by your imploring me I shall account my selfe onely blest. I thanke you good Friend (quoth [...]e) and if euer fortune favour me a­gaine, I will requite this kindnesse, though now I am plunged in the depth of ill lucke, being as you sée depriued of my Kingdome by the Rebellion of my owne subjects, and the Tyrannie of an ill neigh­bour the King of Armenia: the briefe discourse whereof is this. My Father when he liued, matcht my sister Piera in marriage with this worthy Knight Deloratus, sending me vnto P [...]sia with her, who before my returne dyed, whilest I was there I chanced to fixe mine eyes on the Beauty of Constantia, daughter to the Persian King, which by reason of my sudden departure, I could not giue her know­ledge, hauing no other comfort but my sister Piera, to whom I be­wrayed the secrets of my heart, departing with her promise of assi­stance whilest I went into Assyria to [...]stablish my Kingdome, Prince Helion of Arabia obtained the King of Persia his consent to marry Constantia. Which newes Piera sent me, I being much [Page] troubled therewith, after I had refelled my old enemy the King of Armenia in a battell, I left the gouernment of my Kingdome to two of my Noble men, and departed in the habite of a Palmer into Persia, where within short space I found such meanes by my sisters friend­ship, that I was in that habite without suspition in Pieraes cham­ber, and thereby had conference with Constantia, and attained her consent, nothing remaining, but onely meanes how we should escape, which afterwards wée effected, and trauelled together vntill we came to a Shepheards house, where we were kindly welcommed, contracting a solemne, marriage betwixt our selues, because we durst not be knowne the contrary, where we liued some dayes in quiet: In the meane time the King of Persia caused diligent search to be made, and it was Pisors chance to finde vs, who kept our counsell, and was by me sent into Assyria, to fetch some of my owne Knights to attend me home, where he found my Nobles at strife: and the King of Armenia taking opportunity, with a mighty band of Soul­diers, slew most of my part, the rest joyning with him, vntill he had ceazed my Crowne.

Pisor with this heauy newes returned to me, being vnwilling to giue me knowledge thereof, which ouercame my heart with such griefe, that séeking in a solitary place, I wandred so farre that I could not returne to the Shepheards house the same night.

Constantia missing me, likewise stole from the Cottage to séeke me but directing her steps a contrary way, or méeting with some misfortune that slew her, I neuer heard of her since. Pisor, he like­wise went foorth to séeke vs, and vnwillingly tasted of an vnfortu­nate fruit, that infused a sléepinesse vpon him for foure and twenty houres: but notwithstanding his and my most earnest search, wee could neuer finde her, nor I feare neuer shall. But if I could recure this euill done me by my Foes, I would then spend the rest of my dayes in her search. Hauing ended her spéech, his heart was so much ouercome with griefe, that he had much adoe to with hold his eyes from teares.

Montelyon was opprest with no lesse griefe then hée, whose heart felt more inward disquiet then a stranger could haue done, in silent sadnesse séeming to impart with his sorrowes: but not abide to counsell him which way to recure them. That at last by reason [Page] the necessity of the time affoorded little respite, they were constrai­ned to depart.

CHAP. XV. How Montelyon by a strange and dangerous adventure, wonne the City, and tooke Palian prisoner.

MOntelyon that euening elected out of his own Fol­lowers twenty Knights, such as he estéemed most valiant, telling them he had a matter of great danger and secrecy to complet, which might be a meanes to establish Persicles in his Kingdome, if they would faithfully joyne with him, Which they stedfastly vowed to accomplish, and to follow him, although it were euen to their deaths. Arme you then, quoth he, in Armenian Armour, of which you haue choyce, and come to me at midnight.

This being performed, and the Knights come, Montelyon with them departed through the Campe vnto the City Gates, where Mon­telyon knockt, but scarce so lowe that the Porter could heare him, who yet notwithstanding, comming to the Battlements, demanded who it was? I am said Montelyon, Althetus, and other Armeni­ans, as thou mayst know by our Armor, and bring good newes: there­fore open the Gates lest by the delay we be betrayed for we are pur­sued. The Porter being out of all doubt, and hasty to succour them, vnbolted the Gates. Montelyon was no sooner entred, but he flew the Porter, entring the Lodge, and apprehending the watch, who lay sléeping, and slaying most of them before they awaked: One of them submitting himselfe, thus sayd. I am an Assyrian spare my life, and if you be friends to Persicles, I will giue you such directions, as you may surprize the City, and subdue Palian.

Montelyon sayd, in so doing thou shalt be honoure of thy King and purchase thy owne liberty. After that they had put the rest to the Sword, the Assyrian directed them to the Pallace, and by so se­cret away that he brought them euen within the compasse of the Castle, to the very place whereas the Guard was. Montelyon [Page] then thus said to his followers. My companions: let not feare now possesse your hearts, but by this exployt win honour for euer. Then by the Assyrians direction, they deuided themselues into two parts, the one to the foremost entrance, and the other by a By-way. Mon­telyon like wise knockt, and one of the Guard misdoubting no mis­chiefe, opened the doore, whereinto Montelyon rusht with his swoord drawne, not speaking a word, sleying the first, the next, and all that came within his compasse: The Guardiants were so amazed there­with, that they were confounded in their sences, their courages for lack of time to consider, abated and their hands wich feare-trembling not able to draw their Swords, and when they were drawne, not knowing whom to offend, for Montelyon and his Knights were so like them in Armour, and so intermingled amongst them, that they knew not whether they strooke their owne fellowes or no not know­ing one from the other: by which meanes Montelyon and his Knights who by a priuy token knew each other, made such a slaughter a­mongst them, that all the floud swom with their bloud. Some of them made meanes to flye by the backe doore, but euen then, as they stept out, they met death, hée that followed, not knowing him that went before to be slaine, that had a thousand come that way, they had one by one met with destruction, that in the end, by Montelyons valour there was not one left aliue, nor any escaped. And this complet was performed with such expedition in the dead time of the night, that the rumor thereof came not to the hearing of any. That within short space and little labour, Montelyon surprized Palian euen in his Bed, who séeing one in Armour besmeared with bloud, with his sword rea­dy drawne, being excéedingly affrighted, asked what he was? I am qd Montelyon, thine enemy, and Persicles friend▪ Thou art a villaine and a Traytor, qd he, and with that he called to his Guard, crying out treason, treason, I am betrayed helpe, helpe. Thou cryest in vaine qd Montelyon, for there is none here to helpe thée: for by this hand thy Guard are slaine, and thou shalt follow them the same way to death, vnlesse thou aske mercy; For my hands can hardly abstaine from working vengeance on thy trayterous head, thou hast deser­ued to be punished with inexorable torments. Montelyon had scarce ended those woords, but the rumoring Eccho of an excéeding out-cry, sollicited his eares, the occasion was this. After Montelyon was de­parted [Page] his Tent, his Squire following him, and séeing him enter the City with so few in his Company, ranne backe with all spéed, and certified Persicles what hée had séene, who fearing least that valou­rous attempt might endanger his life, and hearing that he had got­ten entrance into the City, with all the haste he could armed him­selfe, and calling vp Deloratus, Pisor, Cothanes and Osimus, and all the rest of his chiefe Commanders of the Army, with the choyce of their severall Bands, to the number of ten thousand, they soone mar­ched to the City gates, which they found wide open, and being en­tred, and by seuerall companies disperst into euery corner of the Stréetes, on a suddaine on euery side they gaue the Alarum, which rung through the City and eares of the Armenians with such ter­rour, that like men bereft of their Sences, they ranne vp and downe to their destruction. There did Deloratus fill his hands with slaugh­ter, and Pisor with cruelty revenged his withholden liberty: There did Cothanes, Osimus, and many thousands, colour pale Death in purple Robes. There did Persicles tryumph ouer his Foes, his con­quering Sword working their deaths, that the City Channels ran with goare bloud, and their hasty steps were intercepted by the heaps of breathlesse foes: then began such an outcry, as would haue affrigh­ted the sences of the most valiant: Did men hiding their heads in secret places of their Houses, the women with their children crying, wringing their hands, and making excéeding lamentation: the Sol­diers ready to destroy one another, not knowing whom to offend, being ignorant in the originall of the Stratagem. The Counsellors and such as sate in Seate of Iudgement, with spéedy steppes conuey­ing themselves to the Castle, wherein Palian was, where at their Entrance they saw such sad Spectacles of horror, and dreadfull was already entred, laying open passage to death. Where Montelyons Followers though but few, soone layd hands on them, slaying those that resisted, and enclosing them that yéelded, within a strong Tower.

Montelyon by this time had haled Palian from forth his Chamber and bound him hand and foote, brought him out of the Castle, inclo­sing him in a strong Iayle, where many malefactors was impriso­ned, himselfe for safety becomming his Iaylor. And now hauing intelligence that Persicles was entred the City, hée bent his steppes [Page] to finde him out: by the way destroying the Armenians, who in­déed tooke him to be one of their owne company by his Armour: at last he came to the Abbey, wherein the greatest part of the Armeni­an Souldiers lay, in a large field, encompassed within the wall, where­into Persicles with some thrée thousand Souldiers were before en­tred, making such slaughter as would haue terrified the heart of any beholder.

Montelyon being alone, thought now or neuer to make tryall of his Valour: though being on foote, yet rushing amongst the thic­kest of the Armenians, who séeing him in that Armor, rather thought he had béene of their Commanders, then an Enemy: who franticke with affright: slaughtered them, because they were slow to slay their enemies; which when he perceiued, he cryed vnto them, Vil­laines, traytors, cowards, why shun you me? I am your Enemy, a Persian, and come to destroy you. Notwithstanding his spéeches, by reason they had no respite to consider what to doe, they still fled from him, not so much with thought of what he was, as with feare to come neare him: for none came within his compasse, but hée dy­ed, so that where he fought, their Death tryumphed: and by reason of their flight, his hasty blowes onely hurt the Wind, for sometimes, they were spent in vaine. Persicles and Deloratus being nigh, stood and beheld him with admiration, wondring who it was, that in their judgement with such fury fought against himselfe: vntill hée espyed them, by his spéeches giuing them knowledge what he was, hauing found him they desired to finde, after short salutations, they followed their enemies with cruell destruction: the bright day dis­closing that nights bloudy act, which appeared before them with such a grimme aspect, as that it made terror séeme most terrible, so that before many houres of the day were spent, the Armenians were vt­terly destroyed, and amongst them many Assyrians vnknowne to be Affricans were also slaughtered. Persicles gaue strict commandement to his souldiers, so make diligent search the City throughout, and if they found an Armenian, to put him to the Sword, not suffering one to escape nor liue. Which done, he commanded the dead Carkas­ses in Carts to be carryed out of the City, which were so many that with much adoe they could performe in a dayes labour. Which done, hée gaue the spoyle of the Armenians Tents and Houses vnto [Page] the Persian Souldiers, and also gaue commandement, that the women, children, olde men, had impotent people, should be brought into the City and euery one possesse his owne house, wherein hée dwelt before. This being performed for that day, order being ta­ken for the wounded, the souldiers enriched with spoyle, the Citi­zens in quiet in their houses, diligent watch set at each gate, and a strong guard without in the Tents, for that it drew to night, and their labour required ease, after much joy, they betooke themselues to their rest.

Earely the next morning they forsooke their Pauilions, first ap­pointing certaine scowtes to watch about the borders of the Coun­try for the approach of the King of Armenia, which as they suspec­ted would be very shortly: for it was now two moneths since Althe­sus departed.

By that time the day was aged the space of thrée houres, the in­habitants of Assyria that had liued vnder the subjection and ty­ranny of the Armenians, hearing of Palians ouerthrow, and being assured of Persicles safety, which before that, their doubtfull hearts would not beléeue, came by great multitudes to submit themselues vnto their lawfull King: who rejoycing thereat, commanded them in signe of their obedience, to arme themselues, and returne to their owne dwellings, and to destroy all the Armenians that in­habited the Land of Assyria, not suffering neither man, woman or child to liue. It was a wonder to beholde, with what gréedinesse the heady multitudes bent themselues to their Enemies destructi­on, euery one thinking to be foremost, and hée that was last, yet thinking himselfe happy that hée could graspe a Sword, to séeke his owne liberty. Which they effected within thrée dayes, that there was not any of the Armenian Progenie left: for if they chanced to finde an Assyrian woman married to an Armenian woman, both shée and all her Children dyed. And if they found a Woman with child, or hauing any children that shée could not shew an Assyrian was the Father of them, they had all of them dyed.

In the meane while, all those that were Prisoners, were brought foorth. Persicles by the whole consent of all his Nobles, People and Counsell, appointing them to dye, onely Palian [Page] excepted, who like wise had that day abode a shamefull death, if hée had not béene a Kings sonne, being onely committed to safe custody, where he was honourably vsed.

These tragicall Stratagems ouerpast, and all things in security, notwithstanding the beauty of the Land was destroyed by the Arme­nians, yet now the Nobles and Péeres of the land, that for a long time durst not looke ouer the Castle Walles, assembled themselues vnto their King, making all preparation they could for his more ho­nourable welcome: the Bels rung for joy, and the people with excée­ding rejoy [...]ings applauded his victory. Within few dayes Persicles was with great royalty twice crowned King of Assyria, and Monte­lyon honoured with such excéeding commendation as his worthinesse deserued. Euery one (as of right they should) attributed that honou­red victory to his valor. All men growing into déep affection towards him, and with rejoycing manifest their loue.

CHAP. XVI. Of the King of Armenia's arriuall with a new Army. How Monte­lyon set Palian at liberty, and of a Peace that was concluded.

CErtaine of the Spyes had knowledge of the ap­proach of the King of Armenia, and brought newes thereof vnto the Court, which stirred vp a new disquiet amongst them, for then they be­gan on all sides to arme themselves a fresh: but that haste was soone stayed, by the arriuall of certaine Ambassadours from the King of Ar­menia, who deliuered their message in these words. Persicles of Assyria, the mighty King of Armenia comman­deth thée to deliuer his sonne Palian in safety, whom hée vnderstan­deth thou hast taken prisoner. Withall hée requireth restitution to be made o [...] the Crowne and Kingdome of Assyria, which by right of ancient inheritance i [...] his: otherwise he will bring so puissant and inuincible an Army against thée, that shall waste and consume, this [...] and, not leauing City, Towne nor house vndestroyed by fire: he [Page] will make the Inhabitants perpetuall bond-slaues, and he will cause thée to slye, or abiding his comming, hée will take▪ thée captiue, and leade thée into Armenia, where thou shalt remaine his vassaile. This is the summe of that he requireth, therefore let vs haue an­swere.

I will not study sayd Persicles, what to say, but thus say to him. His sonne is my prisoner, and I will detaine him: as for his threats I feare them not, vtterly denying his false title to my Crowne, which in my absence hée seazed vpon, not by valour, but trecherie, And tell him moreouer, that I demand restitution for the wrong hée hath done mée and my Countrey, which if he deny, nothing shall make me satisfaction but his sonnes death. And tell him thus, let him with haste returne, least my fury ouertake him, and so he féele the mischiefe he intendeth to me, for I meane to méete him present­ly, and worke such destruction among his Souldiers, as shall cause them to séeke his death for betraying them into his hands. Persicles spake these words with such fury, as made the Ambassadours assu­redly beléeue hée meant it, that with this answere they departed. The King of Armenia little thinking to receiue such an answere, but rather performance of his demand: was so enraged, that hée commanded his Souldiers to march towards the City, vowing to redéeme his sonne, or be taken prisoner himselfe. Persicles likewise had collected a mighty band of Persians and Assyrians to méete him, that it was likely this would proue the hottest battell that euer was fought in that part of the world.

In the meane time Palian was brought before Persicles, who was seated vpon the Kingly throne in great Majesty, thus saying to Palian: what canst thou alledge to excuse thy selfe from death, ha­uing rightly deserued the same? Thou knowest that it now resteth in my power to set thée frée, or put thée to death: which the just Heauens haue inflicted vpon thée as a due punishment for thy ty­rannie▪ [...]

Palian made this reply, I am a King as absolute as thy selfe: therefore I know thou darest not put me to death: which if thou shouldest presume to attempt▪ know that the King of Armenia is hard at thy elbow to reuenge the same, whose power thou canst not escape. Therefore I defie thée, and dare thée to doe the same: for [Page] I know thée to be of so cowardly a disposition, that if thou once com­mest within my Fathers sight, thou wilt runne away. The people standing by, hearing him vtter such opprobrious words, cryed out, Let him dye, let him dye. It was long before the multitude could be appeased, but at last Persicles thus said, standing vp in a great rage: Traytor, darest thou vtter these words in my presence: Thou shalt dye the death, not all the world shall redéeme thée. With that he commanded his guard to hew him in pieces; with that they began to wound him, but Montelyon stepping betwixt them hum­bling himselfe vpon his knée, thus said:

Noble King, vouchsafe to heare me speake, and without offence, let me claime my right. This Knight is my prisoner, therefore to put him to death without my consent, were to do me wrong; yet although I speake this, pardon me, I challenge not any thing to contradict your will; but I humbly desire your Majesty to grant me this fa­uour, that as I tooke him, so I may dispose of him.

Persicles with great hast rose from his seate, and imbraced Mon­telyon, saying: Were it my Kingdome, my life, or any thing that I estéemed more then both, that you required, I would for euer curse my h [...]art, if it should deny it you; For you haue done me so much good, and my debt is to you so great, as if I liue a thousand yeares, I shall neuer pay; therefore I giue him fréely vnto you, and his life withall. I humbly thanke your Majesty, replyed Montelyon, with that he tooke Palian by the hand, and after humble reverence done, he departed, to whom being alone, he vttered these spéeches. Noble Prince of Armenia, not expecting reward, nor fearing threates, I here giue you liberty. Then did he desire him to make choise of his horse and armour, where with he armed himselfe, and so rode discour­teously away, his stout heart not suffering him to giue Montelyon thankes. And being come to the Campe, humbling himselfe vnto his Father, and he imbracing him, thus said: My deare Sonne, wel­come, then strutting vp and downe, said: I thought that dastard Persicles durst not detaine thée; for if he had, his life had payed thy ransome, and shall doe yet for detayning thée: by Jupiter this night will I fire the City about his eares, because I know that the coward dares not come foorth to méet me.

Palians heart hearing his Father thus boasting, and considering [Page] how vnlikely it was he could performe it, with such a sudden passion of déepe consideration, changed with a sudden alteration, contrary to his former disposition, calling to remembrance how lately he was in danger of death, the great power Persicles had about him, the late slaughter he had committed against his Souldiers, the courtesie of Montelyon, but most of all his ingratitude to him, that had fréely giuen him his life, thus said:

My most noble Father, not the feare of your forces, nor Persi­cles his cowardice (for by his doome I had dyed) hath set me at liber­ty, but the courtesie of a noble Knight that tooke me prisoner: who when Persicles had appointed my death, and the Executioners were seizing vpon me, challenged me to be his Prisoner, honourably armed me, and courteously let me goe. Therefore I beséech you withdraw your Forces, and offer no more wrong to Persicles, who neuer of­fended you, the Kingdome of Armenia is as good as the Kingdome Assyria, and better: and it is better to enjoy that with quiet, then both that and this with discontent. If not for that, yet for this, I humbly intreat you to conclude a Peace with Persicles, for your owne safety, for his power is too mighty to be subdued by the small For­ces you haue brought. He is now allyed to the Persian, who is not yet your Enemy, but wholly your Friend; but if these Warres continue long, he will proue your mortall Foe; For if you goe for­wards I must stay behind; for it were a great dishonour for me to fight against him that hath so honourably, courteously, and liberally giuen me my life: If you should be ouercome, how much would it endanger your life, and if your life were in danger, doe you thinke you could escape? Besides, I will rather submit my selfe into the hands of your Enemies or shed my owne blood before your face, then liue to sée so dismall a day as that will proue; therefore I hum­bly desire you to conclude a Peace.

The King heard out his Spéeches with silent vexation, being so inwardly inraged, and with such desire thirsting after revenge, that his heart was ready to burst with swelling ma [...]e: but at last being more mollified with dispaire of Victorie, then of yeelding to his Sonnes request, he said: Let it be as you will haue it, for this time you shall ouer rule me.

[Page]Then Palian thus sayd, My Noble Father, I know to conclude this peace will turne to our everlasting good▪ and your ow [...] content: Persicles to honourable, and neuer offending you. And I know will honourably embrace this peace: therefore I desire you, let it be con­cluded with your frée consent.

With that he gaue his consent, willing him to conclude what he thought good, and hée would ratifie it. Palian then mounting him­selfe, presently departed towards the City, but ere he came there, he met with Persicles mighty band of Souldiers, and desiring to speake with Montelyon, he kindly embraced him, yéelding vnto him so ma­ny hearty thankes with such courtesie, loue, affection, and earnest vowes for preseruing his life, as Montelyon wondred at that sudden alteration in him, that before was so rude and discourteous, most kindly welcomming him. Then did Palian vnfold the cause of his comming, with such earnestnesse intreating Montelyon to joyn with him to conclude that peace, that he promised his assistance, and went with him to Persicles.

Palian deliuered his message with humble reuerence, and Pet [...]i­cles with as much courtesie receiued it. And so effectually was this wrought, that the Peace accepted, and both the Armies méeting, in stead of blowes, embraced each other: Then did the King of Arme­nia and Persicles salute each other: First, in strange sort, but af­terwards with more familiarity. After many spéeches of both sides, Persicles accusing him of wrongs, and be alleadging the contrary, that notwithstanding Palian labouring earnestly to conclude the peace, yet the battell was like to joyn, and often by iterating hot spée­ches they both grew to excéeding rage, which againe by Palians and Montelyons good perswasions was asswaged: Growing to this Conclusion, a Peace was ratified for two yeares, in which time Am­bassadours should be sent to the King of Persia, and Macedonia, to entreat their royall assistance to make an end of this controuersie, Persicles heart could hardly endure to yéeld to his foe any further, or abstaine himselfe from present revenge, or appoint his rightfull E­state to be determined by the doubtfull case of arbitrement, in his heart scorning the Armenians should haue so much scope limited, as though he had any interest at all in his Kingdome, but rather, that he should then either absolutely winne all, or loose all: but regar­ding [Page] how much he had troubled Deloratus and the Persians, who now desired to returne home into their owne Countrey, but most of all, himselfe desirous to trauell in search of his deare Constantia, from whom hée had béene long absent: For whose sake hée would haue lost his life, Kingdome and Liberty: whose absence was a con­tinuall griefe to his Conscience, and a restlesse torment to his heart: for whom he had endured many thousand broken steps, vtterly de­spairing of finding her, but that, nor length of time, nor other am­biguity could cause his heart beléeue, that he should finde her, and that she was liuing: therefore he constrained his royall heart to yéeld to any thing.

And hauing taken the King of Armenia's Oath, not to interrupt him in his Kingdome, vntill the time prefixed, they parted, Persi­cles to the City, and the King with his Army into Armenia. Pali­ans heart was linckt in such louing admirations of Montelyons ver­tues, that he humbly intreated his Fathers leaue to stay in Assyria to beare him company, but he denyed him, reprouing him greatly, and with bitter tearmes checking him: but notwithstanding, within few dayes in disguise he departed. The King would haue sent after to stay him, but that he was earnestly entreated to the contrary by his Nobles.

Palian being kindly welcommed of Montelyon, disclosed the cause of his departure from his Father, onely with no other intent, but to enjoy his company, and by shew of duty to doe Persicles Seruice: which procéeded not of any coloured or imaginary dissimulation, but from the depth of a constant resolution. Such a sudden Metamor­phosis had the view of Montelyons vertues, and his Fathers tyran­nie wrought in him, that he admired the one, and abhorred the other. Of which he gaue such manifest tokens, that Persicles had no cause to misdoubt him, nor Montelyon to refuse his familiarity.

CHAP. XVII. How after the Peace concluded, Persicles left the Government of Assyria unto Pisor, determining himselfe to travell in search of Constantia. How they arrived in Persia. Of their honourable entertainment, and of other contrarious accidents in Love that befell in their Persian Court.

AFter all these troubles were ouerpast, the Persi­an Souldiers richly sent home into Persia, and Persicles had established his kingdome, leauing the same to the gouernment of Pisor, he deter­mined to trauell in search of Constantia, ma­king the occasion of his departure, to be to ac­company Deloratus into Persia, none but Pisor and Montelyon knowing the contrary.

By the way as they went Cothanes desired them to vouchsafe to visite his Habitation, which the rather they did, to sée the robes that were found about Montelyon. They were honourably wel­commed thither, and royally feasted. Cothanes Lady bringing forth the packet, which they opened and well viewed, neither Deloratus nor Persicles knowing any of them, for they were such as Constan­tia had in Arabia. Amongst the rest, there was a Iewell of excée­ding beauty and richnesse, which Montelyon in the presence of them all put about his necke, vowing neuer to part with it vntill he had found out his Parents.

Afterwards they departed, Montelyon leauing Cothanes and his Foster-mother, bewayling his departure with aboundance of teares. Within few dayes they arriued in Persia, the King sending out Troupes of gallant Knights to attend them, the States, Nobles, and Péeres of the Land in rich attire to entertaine them, and him­selfe with the Quéene, Piera and Lanula his eldest Daughter with a number of other gallant Ladies forsaking the Court to méet them. The Citizens likewise hearing of their approach, prepared to enter­taine them with delightfull showes, the Knights met them some two miles from the City, welcomming Deloratus with reuerence, and [Page] the other thrée Knights with courtesie. Next the Nobles embraced them, and at the City gates they saw the King with his royall assem­bly staying their comming, vnto whom Deloratus knéeled, whilest they with teares welcommed his safe returne, and whilest he em­braced Piera, and his sister Lanula, the King and Quéene welcom­med Persicles: And when he had left them to speake to Piera, they demanded of Deloratus who those strange Knights were. The one of them (quoth he) is our late reconciled friend Palian, and the o­ther is the most valiant Knight Montelyon, that by his valour hath both preserued our liues, confounded his Enemies, and wonne him­selfe immortall honour. The King of Persia had Palian welcome into Persia, he likewise embraced Montelyon, who with humble reuerence knéeled at his féet.

All that there beheld him, admired that one of such young yeares should be endued with such honoured Chivalry; especially the La­dies with their nice eyes, surueighed each part of his perfect linea­ments, which they found to be most exquisite, judging none like him in comelinesse but Persicles. All tedious saluta [...]ions being ouerpast, vntill they came to the Court, entring with such royalty, as it draue an admiration to the beholders eyes, there might one haue beheld the people with gréedy desire by multitudes thronging to behold them: but especially the White Knight, euery one asking which was hée, that he himselfe might heare them, which oftentimes made the blood reuiue in his chéekes, with such a blush, that it might easi­ly haue béene discerned. To rehearse euery particular would be ouer tedious, and to stay long in recitall of their Royall entertainment, Feasts, spéeches, and welcomes, would detaine you from the hearing of Constantias misfortune, for such entertainment there was, and euery thing performed with such royalty, as might haue beséemed the greatest Monarch of the world.

After Supper, the time of rest being come, the aged King and Quéene bad goodnight to their Ghosts, and euery one betooke them­selues to their seuerall Lodgings, remitting all conference vntill the next dayes opportunity.

Persicles being alone, spent most part of that nights rest in stu­dying which way to Iourney in search of Constantia, Montelyon in consideration of his vnknowne Parents, Palian surfeiting in [Page] loue with Praxentia. She in commendation of Montelyon, Delo­ratus in pleasure with Piera, and the olde King and Quéene in joy­full remembrance of all their safety, euery one possest with a seuerall conceit, vntill that slumbring sléepe ouercome their sence.

Earely the next morning they forsooke their Beds, Persicles and Deloratus in conference with the King and Quéene, and Piera in the hearing of Praxentia, and divers other Ladies, rehearsing the warres in Assyria, and the manner of their victory, Montelyon in company of Palian, commended the royalty of the Persians Court, and the beauty of the Ladies. Which s [...]éech they entred into by reason of Palian, whose heart could not chuse but vtter his inward thoughts, which had entertained a furfeiting view to Praxentiaes beauty, which was so exquisite, as it might haue intangled the sences of any man, with their beautious object: Onely Montelyon rested as frée from, as one that neuer thought of loue, hauing his sences so fully possest with desire to find his Parents, and search for Constan­tia, that no other thought could enter his brest. But such a contrariety had blind Fortune wrought amongst them, that euery one desired a contrary thing, for Palian doted not so much on Praxentias, as she did on Montelyon, and he was so farre from thinking such a thought, that it was in vaine for her to hope: Palian séeking opportunity to giue her knowledge thereof, and she expecting when Montelyon should prof­fer loue to her: and he on the other side, séeking meanes to hasten his departure, which he would instanly haue done, but that he could not so soone séeke to leaue the King of Persia, nor his sister: but not­withstanding the King of Persia requested him to stay a moneth, which he could by no meanes deny, Palian was glad of this, and Praxentia was not sorry, onely Montelyon thought the time would be too tedious, because his affections were wholly bent on his journey.

CHAP. XVIII. How Praxentia sent her Nurse to Montelyon with a message, the Nurse tooke Palian for Montelyon, and to him discovered her secrets.

PAlian devised by all meanes he could to haue con­ference with Praxentia, refusing rest, food, and company, to study thereon: oftentimes enjoy­ing her company, but not the opportunity hée expected, surfeiting with beholding her beauty, and tying himselfe faster in the snares of loue, and finding no hope of comfort. But on a day it thus fell out. Praxentia desiring ease, sent a Damozell to an old Lady, named Lanula, willing her to come and speake with her, who instantly came, and being alone Praxentia, ha­ving this conference. Lanula (quoth she) I haue occasion to your assi­stance, in a matter of great secrests, which I haue refused to impart to any but your selfe, for the good opinion I haue of you, wherein you onely may doe me pleasure, and everlastingly bind me to requite the same. The old Lady was so forward of her selfe, that without further entreating wée swore by many Dates she would faithfully execute whatsoeuer she desired, were the matter never so great, yea though she hazarded her owne life thereby, I haue no reason to mistrust you, quoth she, yet I cannot but feare to tell it, and blush at the re­hearsall thereof, Lady, quoth she, will you pardon me, if I tell you what it is: is it not loue: Yes, quoth she, it is so, I am in loue, but I feare I am not beloved, and him I loue, so honourable a Knight as the world yéeldeth not his like: but being a stranger and vnknown. I know he dareth not tell me what he loueth because my Father will never consent thereto: notwithstanding I could be contented with his estate, were it never so meane, might I enioy him, I haue often béene in his company, shewing my selfe desirous therof, which any but himselfe might perceive: but I spent that labour in vaine, and shall doe still, vnlesse you worke some meanes in my behalfe. Let me know his name (quoth Lanula) and befor [...] many houres bée past, I will by some meanes or other haue conference with him. He [Page] is the strange Knight Montelyon, say what thou wilt to him, without impeaching my modesty, and I care not: for not being by, I shall not blush, neither care I to hazard any thing. For if he once go from hence I shall neuer sée him againe. As she had spoken that word she saw him walking alone towards the farther end of the Garden, at the en­trance into a groue. Yonder he is, quoth Praxentia, Lanula told her, she would even then speake, and to that intent with hast she went downe the staires. Montelyon being come to the farther end of the garden, espyed Palian lying vpon a banke either sléeping, or in a déepe study, passing by him vnseene, for that he desired no company, entring the Groue. Lanula likewise seeking him, espyed Palian, not knowing either, saluted him in stead of Montelyon, saying, Sir Knight, to you I thinke I haue a matter of importance to discover if your name be Montelyon? Palian answered not, but with courtesie had her say on, There is a Lady of great renowne in this Court that beareth you déepe affection, who committed her counsels to me but with no intent I should disclose them, yet I pittying her griefe, whom I am bound in all duty to pleasure, and withall wishing your preferment, am thus bold to intercept your meditation: hoping that this newes cannot be but gratefully accepted, I heartily thanke you ( qd he) assuring you that I am euery way as déepely in loue as any, but with one so farre my better, that feare to offend, maketh me silent: therefore I pray let me know her name. It is Praxentia qd she. And to her said he, I owe my life, loue, affections, and liberty. Sir ( qd she) I am glad hereof, and if you will follow my directions, I will worke to effectu­ally, that you shall enjoy her loue, whosoever saith the contrary. I will be wholly ruled by you ( qd he) neither will I refuse any attempt to attaine the same: therefore I pray you tell me where I may finde you, and soone in the euening I will repaire to you. My name is La­nula, quoth she, and you shall haue me in the Lodgings ouer the Po­sterne in the priuate Garden. With that she departed, leauing him in a déepe meditation, what to doe to enjoy her loue, and how to doe it without dishonour to himselfe, and iniury to Montelyon, but that he thought impossible: entring into these meditations, how contrary is my hap to all good successe, that maketh me hazard my honour and to adventure such a taske as may bring me to perpetuall infamy? How often already hath my life béene hazarded by Montelyons hand? and [Page] yet I like a franticke ma [...], forsake my friends to follow him. Could any thing haue fallen out more miserable, then for me to dote on her, that loueth another, and he the onely man that hath alwaies preuen­ted my good fortune? Shall I then cherish this loue, or roote it out of my heart, as a poyson that will infect my Soule, for the King of Per­sia will never yéeld his consent. And that which is worse, she will never loue him she hateth. I will therefore leaue off, and sal [...]e the wound before it be past recovery: and rather abandon this Court, my Life, Friends, and Country, then sue for loue in another mans name. Reuoluing a thousand of these contrarious thoughts, at length he espyed Montelyon comming backe from the Groue, whom he salu­ted in this sort. Sir Knight, as I lay slumbring on this Banke, my sences were greatly troubled with your remembrance, & me thought an ancient Lady taking me for you, told me, that a Lady of great Dignity did loue me excéedingly, & that she of purpose came to know how I was affected. Further my dreame continued not, but as I a­wake I espyed you, and haue vttered all to you. Now what Lady this should be, I know not, vnlesse it be Praxentia.

Montelyon made this answer: What this should meane I know not, neither is it to be regarded. For dreames are but idle Fancies, procured by the conceit or imagination of the Dreamer: thinking that of another that he wished to himselfe, which is more likely: For the Princesse were ouer-fond to place her loue on so dejected a stran­ger as my selfe, and if she did so it were in vaine: for my Fancies being now at liberty, cannot become Bondslaues to affection, were it to the greatest Princesse in the World, I speake not this, as reje­cting her courtesie, but as one that estéemeth himselfe altogether vn­worthy thereof. It may be, sayd Palian, though you account your selfe fortunate, yet you dare not trust me, and therefore you conceale it. Not so quoth he, I haue vttered all I thinke, or euer entend. Pa­lian was very glad to heare him say so, yet made no show there­of: passing the way betwixt that and the Pallace, in such like com­munication.

CHAP. XIX. How Palian in a disguise had conference with Praxentia, who tooke him for Montelyon.

HAving left Montelyon, hée got himselfe to his Chamber, excéedingly troubled in his thoughts, betwixt a striving to overmaster his Loue, and yet to loue, and attaine his loue without hazar­ding his Honour: but his affection had the supe­riority, and those sparkes of vertue which were but newly kindled in his thoughts vanished, and hée resolved to try the vttermost issue of that Stratageme, though it were in Montelyons name. Euening now drawing nigh, he remembred his promise, which was to repaire to Lanula, therefore thither he went, but so secretly as might be, where he likewise found her staying for him, of whom he demanded what good newes? Lanula shutting fast the doore, thus said to him. After I returned from you in the Orchard, I went to Praxentia, and told her what spéeches I had with you, which revived her heart with ioy, willing me to let you vnderstand, that it is not lew'd desire, immo­dest loue, nor indiscréet intemperancy that hath procured her to this liking, but the report of your valour, regard of your vertues, and the worke that Nature never wrought in her before: therefore she re­quireth you be constant, secret, and loyall: nor to regard her loue the lesse, for that it was easily wonne, but to impute the same to Desti­ny, that had ordained him vnknowne to that honour, to be beloved of her, that hath ordained him vnknowne to that honour, to be beloved of her, that hath refused to match her selfe to the greatest Emperors in the world. By Heaven ( qd Palian) my heart is tyed to her in such bonds of constant Loue, that should shee command mee to rip my heart from forth of my brest, I would doe it to fulfill her desire, and shew my duty.

Few words (quoth Lanula) are sufficient, therefore know, that by reason of her Fathers displeasure, she dareth not openly converse with you, but she hath yéelded to be directed by mée, and therefore late this Night come to my Chamber, and I will get you the habite of a Gardner, in which disguise you may with safety through the [Page] Garden enter her Chamber. Palian yéelding her many thankes, de­parted, whilest she went and certified Praxentia what we had deter­mined. Whose loue being growne to a setled resolution, and desirous to ease her selfe disquiet, gladly consented thereto, thinking the time ouer-tedious, company troublesome, and her Supper vnsavory, to taste the swéetnesse of her stolne affection. Palian at the time appoin­ted went to Lanula, who had already provided his disguise, where­with he apparelled himselfe, following her directions to find the en­trance to her Chamber.

Palian being entred the Garden, soone found the doore fast shut, but Praxentia having a sight of him out of her Window came downe her selfe to open the same. His heart was so ravisht with joy of her presence, that he could not instantly speake: but humbling himselfe vpon his knée, he said. Vertuous Lady, I humbly desire you to par­don this my boldnesse, which I would never haue vndertaken, had not some formed hope animated me thereto: but since it is your gra­cious pleasure so much to honour my vnworthinesse, I humbly giue my poore heart to your disposition, which shall account it selfe ever­lastingly happy to be imployed in your seruice.

Good Knight (quoth Praxentia) had I not béene fully assured of your vertues, I would never haue admitted you this favour: there­fore I accept your gift, and in exchange thereof will giue you mine: so that you promise me to vse it honourably.

Else let me become the infamous reproach of all the World, let my ioyes be turned into sorrowes, my health into sickenesse, my pleasure into paine, and all that I wish to proue my good, to bée my everlasting misery.

Your Protestations deare Knight, quoth she, are of sufficiency to overcome my yéelding heart, that harboureth no misdoubt of your disloyall meaning, but it is fully assured your vertues cannot harbour dissimulation, that is altogether different from vertue: therefore trusting you more then my selfe, I admit you that favour, I never before granted, which is to receiue you as my chosen Friend, trusting you will proue as faithfull as I desire, and will not reward my favour with disloyalty.

Which said, taking him by the hand, shée led him vp into her Chamber, where many speeches past betwixt them, he with earnest­nesse [Page] entreating her consent to loue him, and she binding him by ma­ny vowes to be constant.

He durst not vtter many spéeches, least it might bewray him: with all his conscience guilty of deceit, withheld him from boldnesse, and though peradventure she would haue taken any thing in good part, yet feare to be discovered himselfe, made him thinke no such matter, but his behaviour so neare as he could, framed himselfe to the estate of Montelyon. Which likewise pleased Praxentia well, who though she were very affectionate herselfe, yet she imputed his coloured modesty to vertue, and his dissimulation to pure hone­sty, that by this conference he was fully assured of her loue, and she nothing doubting of his loyalty, being constrained by reason of the dayes approach, to breake off their communication, referring their next méeting to Lanulaes direction: for that time both parting with many courteous farewels, she fully contented, he somewhat discon­tented, that he had attained that fauour in anothermans name, which if he might haue claimed as proper to himselfe, he would haue déemed himselfe most happy. Clogged with these Cogitations, he gate to Lanulaes Chamber, to whom hée discovered his fortunate successe, telling her that in the evening he would repaire to her, to know Praxentiaes pleasure, and her direction, when and where to speak with her againe,

CHAP. XX. How Montelyon was in love with Praxentia, How he was still prevented by Palian of speaking to her. And how he in disguise lay with her.

EArely the next Morning Praxentia forsooke her rest, and although she had slept but a little that Night, yet she was loath to be accused of sloth, and apparelling her selfe, framing a more then ordinary kinde of merry countenance, for that her mind was more then wontedly contented, shée attended the Quéene in company of the Lady Piera.

[Page]It so fell out that day, that the King of Persia himselfe, with the Péeres of the land, feasted with Persicles, Palian, and Montelyon, which fell out according to Praxentiaes wish, that she might beholde her beloved Knight with a surfeiting view. Palian like wise was no lesse glad then she, that hée might behold her on whom his heart was fixed: and every one saving Persicles and Montelyon, had their hearts inclining to disport, onely they two rested sad, heauy, and vnpleasant, which was easily to be espyed, and was chiefly no­ted of Praxentia with one conceit, and Palian with another. All the dinner time Praxentiaes eyes were fixed on Montelyon, Palian on her, and his bending downeward with a heauy aspect. Which draue Praxentia into many cogitations: sometimes thinking he dis­dained to looke on her openly, who had showne her selfe so affable in priuate: then she thought it was care to discover her loue, which is easiliest discerned by the eyes; but when againe she saw he made no shew at all of regard to her, her colour often changed, sometimes with griefe, sometimes with anger, sometimes with feare, fixing her eyes stedfastly on him, and then glauncing about to sée if any noted her, Palian noted her; and well vnderstood her meaning, as ear­nestly noted her behaviour, as she did Montelyons: often changing his countenance, sometimes with feare to be séene, then with a jea­lous conceit: then againe, with an amorous thought, and againe with accusing of himselfe, for disloyall dealing towards her and him. Pieraes minde was most at leisure to note all, which shée performed with diligence, but séeing their eyes placed vpon contrary objects, she thought there was as contrary a Simpathy in their affections, both perceiving Palians double conceit, Praxentiaes disquiet, and Monte­lyons carelesse regard of either. By a priuy token vnséene of any gi­uing Persicles an instance thereof, who quickly conceited her mea­ning: and jumpt with her in opinion, all the dinner time noting them. Which being past, and musicke filling the roome with pleasant har­mony, Persicles pulling Montelyon by the sléeve, whispered these words softly in his eare.

Friend, rowse your selfe from this sad dumpe, doe you behold how you are noted? Vpon my life the Princesse Praxentia is in Loue with you: and if it be so, may you not then account your selfe mo [...] happy.

[Page]My Lord, said hée, you are disposed to jest, no such good fortune will fall to my lot: and yet if it did, I know I should never enioy it. Why (quoth Persicles) had you but séene so much as I, and noted her looks, you would thinke so much as I: follow my counsell, doe but try, and you shall find it so. What if she were the Empresse of the Vniversall World, would you not venture? and were she not the better to bée beloved? and you the lesse cause to despaire, if she would refuse your loue, all the doubt you haue, is her Fathers dislike: neither feare that, Time may bring things vnthought of, to good effect. Doe but follow my counsell for this time, and after I will tell you more.

By this time the Musicke was ended, and even with that Mon­telyon cast his eye vpon Praxentia, who stedfastly looked on him: her heart being so much grieved with contrariety of thoughts, that the water was ready to overflow her eye-lids. When Montelyon, saw that, he presently began to conceiue hope, and by little▪ and little, loue stole the possession of his heart. Withall he remembred what Palian had before said to him: all which séemed likelyhoods that it was so. Whilest he continued in these thoughts, and with more bold­nesse had viewed her well (whose eyes were never off him) the Musicke began to sound againe, and the old King of Persia, being pleasant and merry with feasting, tooke the Quéene by the hand to dance, Persicles séeing that tooke Piera. Then said the King is there none will make a third? With that Piera desirous to shew Monte­yon any favour, desired him to doe it: but hee with mildnesse and low courtesie made a refusall, in regard of his duty to the King of Persia but suddenly Palian stept vp, and tooke Praxentia to dance with him, who being of a mild behaviour, refused not, and the rather that none should note her affection to Montelyon, which she assured her selfe, he could not call in question. Montelyon was exceedingly vexed to be so prevented, yet smothering the same with a pleasant countenance, the musicke being ended, the King of Persia with the Quéene departed leaving them to their recreation.

Then Palian began to be disquieted with feare least Montelyon by conference with Praxentia would make knowne his last deceit, and he by that meanes be prevented of all future hope, that he vsed such meanes, that Montelyon could haue no conference with her [Page] which he by reason of his feare durst not with boldnesse séeke, nor [...]ore greatly expect, thinking to haue [...] time of more convenience to méete.

All this time Montelyon did but intangle himselfe faster in the snares of affection, still looking to like, and liking to loue, and the more he looked, the more he loved, being for that time onely conten­ted to looke, for other hope he attayned not, by reason of Palians prevention, and his owne feare to be accounted over bold, which she thought she might well impute to his meane estate. The time of de­parture being come, and every one ready to bid adew, Praxentia gaue him a floud of her loue, with a gentle and kind loue, and he her of his duty with a low courtesie.

Every one parted, Praxentia troubled with doubt of she could not well tell what: for waying his behaviour, she could not compare it to be like the behaviour of an assured Lover: neither could she ac­count it disdaine nor want of government, for she knew him wise, nor want of au [...]ity, for he was bold enough in other matters; nor to inconstancy, for she could not perceiue his lookes [...]ent vpon any o­ther. Troubled with a multitude of these passions, by reason of her little suspect of the truth, she made the best construction of all things, wishing Palian ha [...] béene further off that day, whom she thought of purpo [...]e intercepted their conference. But to ease her of these trou­bled thoughts, Lanula comes in with a message from Palian who as soone as the company was parted, went to her, and noting with what little respect Montelyon had that day regarded her, he thought some misconceit might crosse hée purposed intent: and fearing withall, lest she should send to him he [...]ent this message: that withall humility he desired her not to misconceiue his meaning for the little respect he gaue to her, was with no other intent, but to avoid suspition, his he art being entirely bound in all duty to her command. This message pleased her well and banished all mists of care from her heart, devi­ding with Lanula, for a convenient time to haue conference with him.

Montelyon likewise had taken such a view of her beauty, that hée now yéelded to be Loues thrall, and according to his distempered mind, could [...]e pleased with nothing but solitarinesse, in [...]ilence to meditate vpon his fortune, on his loue, and on his likelyhood to at [Page] faine thereto, on Palians prevention, on his vnknowne estate, and on his vowed Iourney in se [...] of Constantia ▪ troubled with such contrarieties, that he could not resolue himselfe of any comfort: tiring his Sences with meditating, wearying his heart with griefe, and weakening his body with abstinence, voyd of hope▪ meanes, or com­fort, and yet neither able to dispaire, nor scarce daring to go forward, then he thought to write, but he wanted a feere [...] Messenger: then he thought himselfe to speake with her▪ but he store [...] a deniall would be his reward, and that would be worse then death?

Thus troubled in mind, he betooke himselfe to his rest, scarce able to giue his eyes one minutes rest vntill morning: and then againe as voyd of comfort, as if he dreamed of a thousand impossibilities, neither able by the counsell of Persicles, nor otherwise to devise a meane to speake to her: for his loue was now so violent, that it could not be permanent, Fortune intending quickly to overturn the same: for Paly [...]n by indirect pollicy dealt so cunningly that by often recourse vnto her▪ he at the last wonne her to such an absolute consent, that she rested wholly at his disposition, never comming to her but in se­cret, and so late, that all lights were out: besides Lanula being old, first taking him for Montelyon, never made question but that it was he: by which meanes, he passed still vndiscried, and betrayed the se­crets of her heart to his privity, that whatsoever he desired, she would performe; and whatsoever he counselled her vnto, was but to prevent all meanes of discovering his disloyalty: perswading her to kéepe her Chamber for many dayes, which she likewise performed. That contrary to her expectation, with distemperature of watching, and kéeping her selfe in the close Chamber, she began indéed to wave sickly, which Lanula made knowne to him, appointing him the next day to come to her, and he should know when againe to visite her: in the meane time, she had wrought so with the King and Quéene, that they had appointed her to be her Kéeper, and none might come at her, but by her sufferance▪ which pleased Praxentia well. Night be­ing come, Palyon got him to Lanula's Chamber, where he found her of purpose to méete him, declaring all that had hapned, appointing him that night to come thither. Lanula returning to Praxentia, would not make knowne his comming to her that night, with no other in­tent but that Praxentia should not breake her sléepe.

[Page]At the time appointed, Palian was in the Garden, and Lanula ready to receiue him, conducting him vp the staires of Praxentiaes Chamber, who was in her bed and fast asléepe. Palian senting him­selfe close by her, although the Lights were extinct, yet by the light of the Moone, which with her cléerest light shined vpon the Bed, hée might take a perfect view of her: who by reason of the heat, lay with all thy Curtaines folded, and the Covering that lay vpon her so thin that the full proportion of her delicate body might easily be discer­ned, the same being turned downe beneath her wast, with her necke naked, and her Iuory brests passing description, laying forth their beauties, her armes spread the one aboue her head, the other downe by her side.

Palian beheld this pleasant sight, which was able to ravish the Sences of a most modest beholder, where with his heart was so en­flamed, that he had much a doe to abstaine from touching that beau­ty. After, he had not stood long, but Praxentia being distempered with some slumbring motion, awaked and espying one so neare her Bed­side, was ready to giue a shrike, but with more regard marking his habite, she knew him, shrowding her selfe from his sight, vntill hée entreated her to pardon his boldnesse. Protecting his intent was not to disquiet her. Neither am I disquieted quoth shée, how I know you, but I marvaile I was not acquainted with your comming, it is Lanulas doing hath thus immodestly vsed me. I humbly beséech you (quoth he) take no offence thereat, but pardon vs both, the greatest fault being mine, for which I am contented to bide any punish­ment. Your punishment (quoth she) cannot be great, your offence being done to me, that loue you more then my selfe, having given my selfe to you, that if I haue discovered modesty will not permit, yet the offence being procured by you, you may pardon it. The sight qd be, can procure no offence, for that it hurteth not therefore in sée­ing I committed not injury: but where there is mutuall loue, and consent in loue, there nothing can bréed offence but disloyalty, which is as farre from me, as impossibilities: therefore I trust I can of­fend no way but in that, and in that I will never offend. All this (quoth she) may be granted in you but not in me. For I account it a great offence to be immodest, and nothing more contrary to per­fect vertue.

[Page]You cannot offend in that (quoth he) to mée, for having given your selfe mine, why should I not both sée, touch and enjoy you? the first being granted, the last cannot be denyed. It is not the outward action that vniteth th [...]e heart but the inward consent.

I deny not (quoth she) all that I haue is yours, by mine owne gift and frée consent, yet you must forbeare possession vntill the bargaine be confirmed by witnesses: otherwise your Title is not good.

Yes (quoth he) my Title is better by your gift then by a thousand witnesse: for if you deny they cannot availe me: therefore since you cannot deny me interest, yéeld me possession. These words were in­termingled with many kisses and embracings, able to stirre affection in sencelesse creatures; so that Praxentia vnderstood his meaning more by his behaviour then by his words; that she said.

Deare Knight, I vnderstand your meaning, which I will not, nor cannot grant, but in any thing else you shall command me, onely I desire and am resolved to preserue my Virginity without blemish: therefore good Knight request not that, having so much as you cannot desire more, my selfe, my company, my loue, my life, and all are at your disposition, onely I challenge you (as you are a Knight) not to blemish my vertue.

Notwithstanding he so much prevailed with her at the last, that she gaue her consent he should the next night be joyned to her in marriage, by such meanes as she would compasse, and then he should without deniall attaine his desire.

This contented him not, but he grew to such importunate re­quests, intermingled with such Oathes and Protestations, being such as no reasonable creature, but one of a shamelesse disposition would haue vttered or requested: withall framing in himselfe such a kind of desperate behaviour, that she could not tell well how to deny him: that at last she called Lanula vnto her, whispering a few words in her eare: whereupon wée presently drew the Curtaines, and went out of the Chamber. Palian séeing that, put off his ap­parell, and laid himselfe downe by her, folding her delicate body in her armes, with swéet embracings, expressing both their loues, but Praxentia kept her word, for notwithstanding he did what else hée desired, yet she reserved her Virginity vndissolved. Adjuring him by [Page] so many entreaties to leaue that vnattempted, and often intermin­gling her words with such effusion of teares, that the hardest hear­ted, and most remorselesse creature in the world would haue yéelded vnto: Promising him if she did not compasse her marri [...]ge the next night, yet he should assuredly attaine his desire, though she hazarded her selfe to accomplish it.

In these and such like spéeches, the night was vnawares to them overpast, and the necessity of the time enforced his departure, so that taking his leaue of her with many ceremonious farewels, he appa­relled himselfe, and left her to meditate on that which had past be­twixt them.

CHAP. XXI. How Montelyon discovered Palians deceit, and how hee was in some sort revenged. Hasting Persicles to depart in search of Constantia.

IT fortuned that Montelyon that Morning was earely vp, and more earely then any vsed, possessed with a troubled head, and a Loue-sicke heart, and walking vp and downe the Gardens, at last in a heavie dumpe be sate downe in an Arbour right over against Praxen­tiaes Lodging, even at such time, as Palian departed, who séeing one in secret come from thence, he privily followed him, till Palian came to his Lodging. Montelyon then began verily to thinke that it was some Messenger, eyther sent from her to Palian [...] returned with answer of some Message hée had delivered, or that it might be Palian himselfe, whom he resembled in proportion, though not in habit.

The day now waring aged, he found out Persicles, with whom he kept company all the day, thinking indéed it was Palian him­selfe that he had séene, for that he kept his Chamber most part of the day: when it grew fowards night, he againe disguised himselfe, and gyrding his Sword to his side, he entred the Garden, and as he wal­ked by the doore, with purpose to take vp his standing in the Arbour [Page] Lanula was come downe by that way, to bring a Fryer in, which should secretly knit vp the marriage, according to the agréement betwixt her and Praxentia, and espying one goe by, shée thinking it had béene he that appointed to come; called, saying; who is there, Montelyon? He hearing that, said, it is I▪ You come too soone, quoth she, the Fryer that should marry you to Praxentia, is not yet come, whom I am now going to séeke. Montelyon was halfe a­mazed: but thinking to find out the truth, said; What shall I then doe? Returne to your Chamber, quoth she, and chang [...] your Appa­rell; for if you come in this, she will be offended, for she is very feare­full, and many troubled thoughts haue possest her head this day: she did fall out with me wonderfully, for bringing you in the last night▪ when she was in bed, and when she had me draw the Curtaines, and be gone. I thought you would haue pleased her ere yée parted: but in faith tell me, was she not kind? Had you not that you would haue? Montelyon blusht to heare her immodest questions, making no answere, soothing her vntill her flattering tongue had bewrayed all the mischiefe herselfe was guilty of. Well, quoth she, stay here­by till I am returned, and then you shall goe in with me, for I dare not let you in before.

Montelyon wondring at this [...]ccident, by the circumstance of that he had heard, assuring himselfe, that some man in his name had attai­ned Praxentiaes loue, which fretted his heart with such vexation, that he was ready to runne mad with griefe: but calling himselfe to better remembrance, he said: you may saue that labour, I haue dealt with a faithfull friend to that effect, who promised to méete me here within this houre, therefore returne to Praxentia, my selfe will stay his comming.

Lanula thought nothing, but went in, telling Praxentia why she returned so soone. Montelyon covering his Face, as privily as he could from being discryed, walking vp and downe by the doore, and within short space espyed Palyon comming, asking, who was there. Are you Montelyon? I am he, answered Palian: I am the Fryer (quoth he) that am appointed to marry you to Praxentia, with that Palyon embraced him, desiring him to make no question, but with all spéed to dispatch the thing he had vndertaken. I will doe it, quoth he, out of hand: being both together come to the Doore, [Page] and by Lanula brought vp into the Chamber, Praxentia embraced Palyon saying: Welcome my deare Knight Montelyon, this joyfull houre shall make vs both happy, which I haue with great desire wished for.

I cannot (quoth he) yéeld you more then hearty thanke [...], vowing by Heaven and earth never to deale disloyally with you, in thought, word, nor déed: therefore according to your pleasure let it be done: Montelyon so well as he could, counterfeited the Fryer, desiring to haue a light. My friend, quoth Palyan, it may discover vs. Shall I then quoth he, marry I know not whom. Lanula said, never feare to be discovered, for on my life, there is none suspecteth it: with that she lighted a candle, setting it a farre off on the Table. With that he said to Praxentia, this is not Montelyon, but some villaine, that hath betrayed you: and discovering his face, both knew him. Praxen­tiaes heart with suddaine griefe, feare and amaz [...]ment, was ready to burst, he with a pale and dismayed countenance, stood as one trans­formed; and Lanula with feare and aboundance of teares, stood wringing her hands. Praxentia could not speake a word with griefe to be so deceived by him she most hated: and he with very shame, stood as one sencelesse: whilest Montelyon said, What disloyall and dishonourable dealing is this in a Prince, whose mind should harbour nothing but vertue, can dissimulation take such déepe roote in a royall brest, then well may base-borne Peasants be excused for barbarous and faithlesse dealing: vnworthy to b [...]e so worthy of that name: Was there none to exercise your detested practise vp­on, but the daughter of a royall King, and in the name of a strange Knight, that by his déeds séeketh honour, what impiety can bée compared to this, or who can hope for vertue in that breast that harboureth such deceit: Indéed such an Acte desireth obscurity: therefore you did well to deny vs light: for were it day, the Sunne would blush, or withdraw her bright splendor amongst the mystie Cloudes to behold it. Well may he liue, but for ever will hée be hated, that séeketh to fulfill his content by such dishonoured im­piety.

Base fellow (quoth Palyon) presumest thou vpon my lenity to abuse mée: I count it not dishonour to winne the loue of so beauti­full a Lady, by any hazard: yet it grieveth mée, that I was [Page] compelled to name my selfe after him that I account my in [...]erio [...]r, I quoth Praxentia, you are inferiour in birth, but not in vertue.

By Heaven quoth Montelyon, thou hast so much dishonoured this Lady, and injured him, that thou art not worthy to liue, and were it not for offending her sacred eyes with slaughter, she should behold thy Massacre. With that he drew his Sword.

Nay good friend (quoth she) stay thy hand indéed it will offend me: Therefore let him goe, and liue to his dishonour and my shame: for I will not be guilty of his death. And I beséech thée as thou fa­vourest vertue, not to disclose this to any, least hearing it spoken by others, it procure my death, as for him, I thinke shame of himselfe will with-hold him from blazing his owne and my reproach: for Le­nula she hath done me wrong against her will.

For my part deare Lady (quoth he) it shall never passe my lips, whilest life doth last, for I so much abhorre the fact, that I hate to speake of it.

Palian séeing his pollicy disclosed (though it was now no time of recantations: for he well perceived Praxentia absolutely hated him) he was so overcome, that he stood as a living creature transformed to a sencelesse picture; whilest Praxentia pull [...] from of her neck a rich Iewell which she gaue Montelyon, in consideration of his paines, withdrawing her selfe from their company.

Palian what with shame and griefe went thence in a rage, ready to runne madde, spending his time in such anguish, studyes, plots and devices, which was to winne her Loue, that before many dayes hée became so sicke, that all men expected nothing but his death.

Montelyon casting off the affection he had entertained, with conceit that Palian had dishonoured her, as he might well suppose by Lanula his spéeches, hasted Persicles in search of Constantia, not once discovering w [...]y he had so [...] altered his mind, resolving never to set his fancy on any Ladyes beauty, which did but disquiet the mind, and make it vnapt to practise vertue: purposing never to l [...]aue searching, though it were through all the world to find his pa­rents, and [...] him in search of Constantia.

The day [...] being now come, they armed themselves, none knowing the intent of their departure but Piera. Taking [Page] their leaues of the King and Quéen with great solemnity, the hearty loue of thousands of Persians, wishing them good successe, many sée­ming dead with griefe for their departure, who with their Tilt, Turneyes and Tryumphs, had delighted the eyes of the beholders. Persicles was armed in black armor, with all his furniture correspon­dent: and Montelyon in an Armour of silver, without any devise at all therein, with his Stéed and furniture as white as Snow, that by their difference th [...]y might easily be knowne from all men.

CHAP. XXII. Of certain strange adventures that befell Persicles and Montelyon, by which they were parted. And the conference that Persicles had with Delatus, which containeth the History of Delatus his misfortunes. And how Persicles by Delatus counsell returned into Assyria.

BEing without the City, and parted from all compa­ny, they travelled directly towards Arabia, spending many dayes journey without adventure, and ouer­passing y ^• tediousnes of their travaile in conference of sundry matters, but especially Persicles desciphe­red the favour, proportion, beauty, and countenance of Constantia: that Montelyon might (if he came in their company vnknown) the better know her. With tedious travell they arrived in a pleasant Valley, through the middest whereof ran a most pleasant River, whose Chrystall streames ran with great swift­nesse, washing the Peble stones in her bottome so cleare, that they might easily be discerned, riding along by the Rivers side, they be­held a farre off two Damzels all in white on horsebacke, crossing the Medow with such swiftnesse, that they were both soone out of sight, Montelyon desiring to know what they were, desired Persicles to re­turne. With that he spur'd his Stéed, who ranne so swiftly, that the earth séemed to shake vnder him: he rode a mile before hée could overtake them, but so soone as they espyed him, they turned backe, and before he could aske the question, one of them said: as you are a Knight and favour the distresse of wronged Ladies, pitty vs, and vouchsafe your ayd to redéeme our Mistresse, that even now was taken away from vs by thrée mighty Giants.

[Page]Faire Virgins (quoth he) I professe Armes, and to my vttermost will I ayde you, else were I not worthy of the name of a Knight: therefore let me know her name. She is Daughter to Amphiador Duke of Ila, her name is Philotheta, for beauty, vertue, modesty, shape, courtesie, humility, temperance, chastity and wisedome▪ not to be equalled, therfore the more to be pittyed, & succoured in distresse: we are posting backe to bring this heauy Newes to the Court, and whilest we stay héere, she runneth in farther danger. Which way went they (quoth he) directly by the way we came said they, whom we would haue followed further, but that we durst not venture over the River after them. With that Montelyon turned backe, de­claring to Persicles what he had heard. If report lye not said Persicles, the Damozels haue not flatteringly praised her, I haue before this heard of her. Then both of them hasted to follow her, passing the River with much danger of drowning, by reason of the depth: They had not rode aboue two houres, but after they met a Country Swaine, running forwards and looking backwards so fearefully, as if he had béene neerely pursued. Fellow, said Persicles, what aylest thou? O Sir, quoth he, I met with thrée the monstrous Creatures that ever I beheld, carrying a Lady that made wonderfull Lamen­tation. Hearing that, they posted downe the way which was beaten plaine: at last the same parted into two wayes, being doubtfull which of them to séeke, at last they concluded to part, embracing each other, as if they should not méet againe: Persicles on the right hand and Montelyon on the left. Of whose severall adventures, strange accidents befell.

Persicles rode on with great swiftnesse, not once able to set eye on them, for that way they went not, therefore he spent much la­bour in vaine, vntill it drew to night, and then he thought it vain to séeke them wandring along to séeke some convenient place to rest in which he could not doe, for those Desarts were vninhabited. At last drawing neare vnto a Rocky Hill, he might espy a glimmering light, as it were to shine through the hollow Cliffes thereof, and thi­therwards he drew, perceiving it to be some poore Habitation, he a­lighted, tying his Horse to a Bush, and knocking at the doore, which of it selfe opened, he espyed an aged old man sitting over a little fire in which he was busily turning of Rootes which he rosted. Who [Page] casting vp his eyes, and espyed Persicles, said to him: Come in good Knight. Distresse I know hath brought you hither, else would you not walke those Desarts so late. Pardon me good Father, quoth he, this bold intrusion: You guesse aright of my estate, for I haue wan­dred out of my way, and sought long for some Habitation, but was frustrated, vntill I was drawne hither by the sight of your Candle, Sir (said the old man) you are welcome, and I would I were able to comfort you in some good sort, but such as this my poore Habitation yéeldeth, if you please to stay this night, shall be at your command. Neither are you the first that hath béene entertained thus by mée, therefore disdaine me not, nor my goodwill. Father, quoth he, I gratefully except your good offer, and thanke you for this kindnesse, that excéedeth my desert, or meanes to requite: and the rather I de­sire your company and conference, for that I am but a stranger in these [...]untries, and would gladly heare something thereof by your report. Sir (quoth the old man) first sit downe, and take such spare Dyet as my store affordeth, and afterwards I will be ready to de­clare what I can to satisfie you. Which when they had done, the Hermite thus began.

Sir, I shall first discover what I am, and the cause of my living in this desolate obscure place: and withall discover those things that (you may suppose) are beyond my knowledge: For no want of misfortune, nor feare of being discovered, hath made me choose this kind of life, but mine owne voluntary fancy, which perswadeth I can no other way liue, so well agréeing with my vnfortunate dis­position: neither would I haue you thinke I intend to fill your eares with idle prattle or repitition of toyes, but as I intend to ease your heart with some of the care it possesseth: So I desire you by hearing my misfortune, and ayding my estate, to ease me, or at least, to com­fort me with some hope of your favourable assistance: for I know your name, your Countrey, your cause of travell, your meanes of re­medy, and your successe hereafter: which I will declare vnto you, after your patience hath heard out my tragick History, which I can­not choose but vtter first. Persicles wondred to heare his spéech, little thinking he could performe what he promised, but yet determining to try him, and desirous of comfort, he intreated him to procéed, for he was desirous to heare his Discourse. Sir, said the Hermite, [Page] my name in my flourishing estate was called Delatus, my dignity the Dukedome of Ila, which I enjoyed many yeares in great quiet being both enriched in the gifts of Fortune, and of Nature: for in my youth I chanced to set my affection on the beauty of Alsala, Daughter vnto a Gentleman of Antiochia, not for her possessions, but for her beauty, which surpassed all the Ladies of the South parts of this Continent. I sued long and at last attained her consent, mar­ryed her, and brought her into Ila, where I lived with her a yeare in great quiet and content: being within that space enriched with a Daughter, naming her Pilotheta, in her Infancy shewing that more yeares would performe in her more exquisite beauty, which is the Virgin that you now travell in search of. Living in his blisse­full content, there chanced a Knight named Amphiador to take a view of my faire Alsalaes beauty, which at the first sigh [...] [...]ierced so déepe that he was entangled therewith, and laboured by all means to grow into Familiarity, thereby to enjoy more fully her sight, and company: Fortune and my selfe so favouring him, that I estéemed so well of his company, that I thought my selfe not well when hée was from mée: Hée on the other side séeming so much to affect mée that I admired at his kindnesse. All this time did he insinuate him­selfe into Alsalaes company, she likewise estéeming so honourably of him, that by reason of the loue betwixt him and me, and her owne little suspect of his disloyall dealing, she at all times admitted him her company, and vsed him so kindly and familiarly, that she made him privie to most of her secret counsels. Notwithstanding, all this hée durst not manifest his loue to her, séeing indéed her vertues to be such, that he thought it impossible to attaine it, thinking it better rather to liue in silence and enjoy her company, then by vttering his affection to be deprived of all comfort. Vpon a time likewise, as he did, there arrived at my Castle another Knight, named Pallesus, whom in the same manner that he had done, surfeited on my Alsalaes beauty, and was both admitted mine and Amphiadors company: both of vs estéeming well of him for many honourable qualities, that he was endued withall. He as little suspecting Amphiadors loue as he did his, nor I my selfe, nor Alsala once thinking any such matter, for that one kindnesse bred in vs such familiarity, that many passio­nate and amorous actions might be acted: and yet on no side suspected. [Page] Thus did I liue in great content some two years, spending the time in Hawking, Hunting, and other pastimes, as voyd of disquiet as heart could wish, thinking my selfe happy in their kindnesse, but most in my faire Alsalaes loue. They with coloured courtesie séeming to liue by enjoying my good company and familiarity, and she as much as I estéeming them for their loue. But at last this pleasant Sum­mer began to turne to Winter, and our swéet content to discontent, for Pallesus loue burst into a flame, which he was vnable to restrain, that in secret sort he gaue my Alsala knowledge thereof, which was as delightfull for her to heare, as it is for one to heare that he hath drunke poyson: but notwithstanding, her mind being endued with courtesie, and herSoule with Vertue, in kind sort she reprooved him, wishing him not to prosecute any such matter, for she would never yéeld thereto. Notwithstanding her courteous deniall bred in him no remorce, but rather a hope of comfort, that continually he followed his sute, which bred an excéeding trouble and disquiet in her heart, that whereas she was before delightfully pleasant, she became often­times so Melancholly and sad that I wondred thereat, but could not learne the cause thereof, thinking it had béene rather some Sicknesse then passion of mind. Being long in this sort troubled with his loue, she began to devise how to be rid of it, but so as it might not come to my knowledge: for vertuous loue made her loth to disquiet mée, relying vpon Amphiadors vertues, she thought by his assistance to rid her selfe of Pallesus: and therefore on a time, being with him alone in secret, she declared the whole circumstance of all to him, declaring his counsell and disswade Pallesus from intending me such dishonour. Amphiadors heart was suddainly possest with a jealous conceit against the said Pallesus: but withall he meant by that means to attaine his de [...]re, therefore comming to Pallesus, he told him what Alsala had made him privie vnto, not disswading him, but coun­selling him to persist therein, promising he would by all the meanes he could further the same. Pallesus was somewhat comforted there­with, and Alsala was more chéerefull, as hoping by Amphiadors meanes to be rid of her Lover.

Amphiador one day, being alone with me in my Forrest, first vsing many intreaties to me to be secret, and binding me by many Oathes, without his advice, not to declare it to any: he told me that [Page] Pallesus did make loue to Alsala, and that it was likely she would yéeld thereto, giving me knowledge that oftentimes they met in se­cret, and withall counselling me but to note their glances and beha­viours, and I should find that to be true which I then least thought of: Protesting that méere loue to me, in regard of mine Honour, and his owne duty, bound him to discover that, which otherwise he would never haue revealed. With this my mind was much disquieted, ne­verthelesse I would not too rashly giue credit to his spéeches, before I had observed their behaviour some time, which I found to be som­what familiar, on déepe affection on his part, but on hers, with a contrary intent, left her countenance should bewray his loue to me, which she knew would bréed my disquiet: by reason of Amphiadors perswasions, who continually augmented my suspition, I verily began to suspect them, and grew to extreame jealousie, assuring my selfe they dealt disloyally with me, purposing to worke revenge against them, but then he began to perswade me to be well advised, and not to condemne them without manifest proofe: as much perswading me from thinking so, as he had before done to perswade me thereto: but then nothing could alter my mind, my vehement suspect neither suffering me to be quiet, nor yet to find his deceit: So that one day being alone, [...] complained against my hard Fortune, and her disloy­alty: in the midst of which complaints he found me out, intending by my overthrow to worke his owne desire. I séeking him so neare me, after much conference desired him as a Friend to counsell mée the best way to salue these evils, to be assured of the truth, and yet to doe it without mine owne reproach, or her scandall: for that I was loth to accuse her without just proofe.

If I may quoth he, presume to counsell you, thus would I advise you to doe: the King is now sicke, and hath sent for many of his Nobles to come to him: say you likewise that you haue received Letters from him, and that you must thrée dayes hence depart towards the Court: By this you shal easily find out the truth hereof, & at the time of your departure, desire Pallesus to beare you company: which if he refuse you may then judge of him accordingly: My selfe will then accom­pany you vnto my Castle, wherein you shall remaine in secret some certaine dayes, and I in a disguise, vnknowne of any, will returne and by my faithfull diligence, will from time to time note their beha­viour, [Page] and so find the truth thereof. I liked well of his counsell, and followed the same, making my departure knowne to Alsala, who with a heauy heart lamented to heare of my absence, which then by reason of my suspect I estéemed to be dissimulation. Amphiador in the meane time went to Pallesus, and told him that I intended by reason of some conceit or suspition, I had lately conceived, to carry him with me vnto the Court: and therefore he willed him to be ab­sent at that instant. The time of my departure being come, I thought to try Pallesus, but he was gone, which augmented my suspition to a resolution: but intending to try the vttermost of all, and trusting to Amphiadors faithfull dealing, I went with him vnto his Castle, stay­ing there some thrée dayes: in the meane time (I thinking he had béene returned to my Castle) he went to an Enchanter named Pen­thrasus, and brought him to my Castle, shewing him Pilotheta, pro­mising him, that if he would but worke meanes to rid me away, that I might never returne, when she came to yeares, to procure her to consent to his loue. Penthrasus at the first sight liked the proffer, and promising to vndertake the same, taking a solemne Oath never to discover the same. Now fearing least some other should prevent him, and to avoid his Wiues suspition, who had great know­ledge in Negromancy, and often by her skill, crost his practises, and withall vnwilling to be any way guilty of blood, after I was delive­red to him, he brought me into this place, casting such charmes and incantations vpon me, that I shall never be released: which when he had done, he told me the cause why he had done it, and withall Amphiadors practice against me, I then intreated him to release me▪ promising him to fulfill whatsoever Amphiador had promised him: but no perswasion could prevaile, for he told me he had bound him­selfe by a solemne Vow to performe it, which he could not breake, for if he did, with that he should loose the vertue of his Art. Then did I lament my Misfortune with bitter exclaimes: but he told me it was in vaine, and so departed. Here did I liue many yeares, vntill I was quite past all hope of comfort, thinking to end my dayes in this place, without euer hearing of them againe: but at last Pen­thrasus came to me againe, rehearsing the sequell of this History as followeth.

Amphiador being sure enough of me, returned to my Castle, [Page] and comming to Alsala, after long circumstance and protestations, told▪ that the day that I went from thence, Pallesus having before complotted such a Stratagem, had set vpon me with an ambush of men, and slaine me, telling the same with such protestations and probabilities of truth, that Alsala could not choose but beléeue him, counselling her in secret to apprehend him, and cast him in Prison. Alsala had much adoe to kéepe life within her body, having scarce breath enough to command her Servants to apprehend him, whilest Amphiador laboured with such as were about her to kéepe life in her.

The rumour of my death was soone spread abroad, and my Ser­vants beléeving the same, some posted to the Court, some searched for my body, neither finding me aliue nor dead, for which Amphia­dor still had an accusation: ready to satisfie any doubt, Pallesus hearing that it was Amphiador accused him, and for no lesse mat­ter then my death, according as he well might, denyed the same, by often intreaties desiring Alsala, to let him be admitted to his tryall: but shée overswayed by Amphiadors perswasions, being before troubled with Pallesus Loue, whereby he fought to dishonour me that was his friend, which bred a perswasion in her, that to attaine that, he sought my life, would giue no credit to him: but resolved he would dye. And within few dayes apparelling her selfe, her Ser­vants, and all her attendants in mournefull wéedes, she departed to­wards the Court, craving Iustice of the King against Pallesus for murdering me: the King told her she should haue justice, Pallesus was brought before the King, and there accused by Amphiador, he alleadging what false accusations he could, and the other still plea­ding his innocency, that in the end Amphiador desired the King to grant him the Combate against Pallesus, which should end the doubt of this Controversie. The King granted it, and appointed a day for the tryall. In which cruell Fortune so ordered the issue, that Pallesus was slaine, and all men accounted him guilty, and me dead, yéelding much honour to Amphiador, and the King in re­compence of his supposed loyalty to me, and for that I dyed without an Heyre, created him Duke of it, yet reserving the living to Alsala, during her life. This being done, Alsala returned towards Ila and Amphiador with her, but very sore wounded: of whom he [Page] had a most speciall care, tendring him as her selfe, for the Loue he had showne her in becomming her Champion for revenge of my Death.

After he had recovered his Wounds, he continued many dayes with her, not once mentioning any Loue to her, séeming with her to mourne for my losse: But as all things by Time weare out of Re­membrance, so did her Sorrow of me, and she began to conceiue well of him: Which he perceiving, prosecuted his Loue with such successe, that in the end he married her, and ever since hath lived with her: Which when Penthrasus declared vnto me, it attained my heart with deadly griefe. Then I desired him to release me from that mi­sery. Neither doe I intend to claime the performance of Amphiadors promise, for that Philotheta was Faire, Chaste, and Vertuous: Nei­ther will I reveale this secret to any but your selfe, nor shall you depart from hence, vntill the adventure of the Enchanted Tower be ended, built by Helyon, wherein he hath shut Constantia, Daughter to the King of Persia, and betroathed Wife to Persicles King of Assyria ▪ Who shall be the first Knight that shall arriue in this place: Neither shall that Enchantment be ended by any but Persicles Sonne, begotten of Constantia: For (quoth he) the date of my Life is neare an end: and at such time as Persicles arriveth here (Will him, when he hath heard this report) to returne into Assyria, to establish his Kingdome in Peace; For it will be in vaine for him to spend his Dayes in travell to Redéeme her, the finishing thereof must be by his owne Sonne. When he had spoken these words he vanished, appointing me to a certaine Bound which I cannot passe, nor any yet came into but onely your selfe, which assureth me that you are Persicles, and travell in search of Constantia. You haue (said Persicles) filled my heart with Feare, Hope, and Comfort, the one striving to over-master the other feare, that the Enchanter dissem­bled: For that I haue as yet no Sonne, nor never shall haue by Constantia: for she being still Enchanted, how shall I attaine her company? Yet againe I am somewhat comforted, that he could as well tell who should finish the Enchantment he had made, as of my comming to this place: For I am the most forlorne King of Assyria, that shall never enjoy comfort vntill she be released, which doubt perswadeth me will never be; For if I must now returne into As­syria [Page] how shall I hope to find comfort? Yet hée of good comfort, quoth Delatus: for hope hath preserved my life many yeares: assuring my selfe that Penthrasus told me nothing but what was true, and shall assuredly come to passe, both your comfort, and my long looked for Releasement, being appointed both to one houre: Why should you then despaire more then I, since both our comforts resteth on our release? But according to his Counsell, travell no further, for it were faine to doe that which can yéeld no hope of comfort.

In doing that (quoth Persicles) I shall both dishonour my selfe, and leaue my Friend vnkindly, whose Deserts hath bound my life to requite his Loue: he hath onely for my sake vndertaken to travell in Constantiaes search: the cause of whose departure from me, was in search of your Daughter Philotheta, that is reputed Daughter to Amphiador, who was this day stolne from Ila, by certaine Gy­ants: Then he declared how they came to knowledge thereof. It did him good to heare that she was living, insomuch that he rejoyced ex­céedingly thereat: Withall, enquiring of him what knight that was, that was gone in her rescue. Persicles then said, it were too tedious to make Recitall of him: for then I should rehearse the discourse of my misfortunes. Were it not (quoth Delatus) troublesome to you, I would earnestly require your favour to heare it. To requite your kindnesse (quoth he) I will rehearse the same, which yet I haue concealed from all men but Montelyon. With that he declared the whole History, from the beginning of his first Loue to Constantia, vntill that houre. Which when he had heard, his heart was filled with Admiration, who that Knight Montelyon should be, his Fancy perswading him he should end the Enchantment, had not the doubt that he was Persicles Sonne given likelyhood of the contrary. The night was spent in these Discourses, and bright Phoebus lightned the darknesse of that Desart, Persicles neither willing to depart nor stay: Sometimes minding to find out Montelyon, and to bid him Farewell: but at last perswaded by Delatus, taking his leaue of him with many Farewels, he mounted his Stéed, and so departed directly towards Assyria.

CHAP. XXIII. Of a Combate Montelyon fought against three Gyants, and how he rescued Philotheta. And what befell them in an Hermits Cell.

MOntelyon being parted from Persicles, hasted with more then ordinary pace after Philotheta, still ha­ving intelligence which way they went, by such as met them: he overtooke them about the setting of the Evening: vsing few words vntill he had dealt some blowes, running at the hindermost with so fierce a carriere, that he overturned him with his héels vpwards, the other two looking behind them, began to laugh at their fellowes for­tune, thinking that he had received that fall by chance: but looking further, they espyed Montelyon running so violently against the secōd, that had he not avoided the point of his Lance, he had seconded his fellow, or light on worse fortune. With that one of them said: This fellow is very bold now, but he will trust to his héeles anone. This said the first that was overthrown, ran towards Montelyon, offering such a forcible blow at him, that had he not spurd his Stéed to avoid him, he had either slaine him or his Horse, but he knowing it better, to fight on foot then on horsebacke, alighted, whilest the Gyant came towards him againe, thinking at one blow to beate him in péeces: the other two séeing him on foote, went away laughing, but the Gy­ant missing his ayme, by reason of Montelyons nimblenesse, was ready to turne about, with the force of his compasse blow: in which time Montelyon leapt within him, and thrust his Sword so farre into his Body, that he fell downe dead: the other two hearing that, one of them came running backe to rescue him, whom Monte­lyon soone espyed, being ready to receiue him: and séeing no more Ods, but one to one, thought his Combate was not vnequall. The Gyant séeing the other dead, thought at once to end Montelyons life, that he strooke at him with all his force, but he avoided his blow not yet daring to come within him, vntill he was somewhat out of breath, being furious for revenge, but more mad to misse so many blowes, he strooke so full and violently at Montelyon, that his mas [...]y [Page] Clubbe stucke in the Earth, which whilest he laboured to pull out, Montelyon strooke him so full a blow on the Arme, that he cut the same quite from his body, wherewith he gaue such an excéeding groane, that all the place rung with the noyse thereof, running away as fast as he could towards Montelyons Stéed, whom he affrighted much with his grissy and blustering approach, that he brake in sun­der the reynes of his Bridle, and ranne away with great swiftnesse: Montelyon was excéedingly vexed for want of his Stéed, not know­ing for want of him what to doe: and by reason of the Nights ap­proach he still pursued the Gyant, kéeping him within sight so long as he could, which at last he lost: Séeing himselfe so disappointed, and vnhorst, he began to study what to doe: at last being past hope of either finding them, or recovering his horse, by reason of the darknes of the night, he went wandring vp and downe to séeke a place of rest, and by chance lighted on a Wood into which he entred, but fearing to rest, lest some wild Beast might devoure him, he wandred on, with purpose to passe through the same, where suddenly he heard the sound of a big voice, which made him stand still and listen, & with soft steps drawing thitherwards, he perceived it was the Gyants, that curst and hand him for crossing their Iourney. What shall we do, quoth one of them, shall we stay here, or no? Wée shall wander I know not whether, a plague vpon that white Divell that haunted vs. I am sure he is no man, for we are men, and one man should be as good in fight as another, but you two like Cowardly slaues, haue suffered such a wretch to haue advantage against you. Hold thy prating quoth the other, thou couldest haue done no more then wée: thou néedest not vexe me, I am vext enough with the losse of mine Arme. Let vs rest here vntill it be day, and then we will away, for hée hath worke enough to find his Horse.

Philotheta was so affrighted with feare, that she lay like one in a dead traunce, to whom one of them said. Swéet Philotheta, bée not discomforted nor offended with mée, I haue loved thée long, and long expected this happy houre to enjoy thée: be content to Lodge on the cold Earth one night for my sake, that haue lost many a nights sléepe for thine; neither shalt thou lye on the Earth, for my body shall be thy bed, whilest mine armes imbrace thée: Then did he take her in his Armes, bestowing many a loathsome slavering kisse vp­on [Page] her, but she for feare durst not cry, being almost dead with griefe. Montelyon stood and heard all their vnreverent vsage, wishing it were day, that he might revenge their disloyalty. They had not laine long, but first the one and then the other fell fast asléepe, which Mon­telyon easily perceived by their routing, thinking it no discredit to slaughter such miscreants that delighted in no Knightly action, but in wrong and oppression: there withdrawing vnto them, Philotheta espyed him and at the first sight by reason of his white armour knew him: desirous she was to speak to him, but feare to awake her Kée­per withheld her, and yet she knew the care of her affright, detained him from revenge: At the last, so boldly as she durst, she lifted vp her hand beckning Montelyon to her, and pointing to the Gyant; Montelyon vnderstanding her meaning, thrust his Sword into him that had her foulded in his Armes, who striving with the pang, gaue her liberty to leape from him, roaring forth such a groane, as all the Wo [...]d rung therewith, and his fellow halfe amazed, started vp ready to run away, but Montelyons Sword overtaking his hindermost legge, at one blow cut in sunder the sinewes, and he fell downe, hol­ding vp his hands for mercy: Montelyon with the next blow pierced his braines, and so he dyed a most miserable death.

The other had received no deadly wound, for the point of his Sword lighting vpon one of his ribbes, was stayed from ending his life; who whilest Montelyon was slaughtering the other, he had re­covered his staffe, bending a full blow at Montelion, who by good Fortune, and Philothetaes strike, turned about, and espying the same comming, broke halfe the force, and running in withall, ran his sword quite through his Adver [...]aries body, and with the bruise he had recei­ved, fell downe himselfe in a traunce.

Philotheta thought he had béene dead, running to him with great striving, with her tender hands to vnbuckle his Beaver, and vnlace his Helmit to giue him breath; which though long, yet at last she attained, but in vaine: for he lay as a man quite bereft of Life; her Lamentations were such as would haue turned revenge to remorse, and those sencelesse trées into teares, yea the Birds hea­ring her moan, left off their pleasant notes to listen to her cōplaints, the very Earth séemed to wéepe to receiue her moystned teares, and all the empty Ayre resounded, as repleat with her waylings. Aye [Page] me vnfortunate Creature (quoth she) to be the cause of so worthy a Knights death: How shall my vnhappy life make recompence for his losse? It had béene better these Savage and inhumane monsters had devoured me, then this Knight should haue lost his life in my res­cue: better it had béene that I had dyed in my Cradle, then to liue to sée this dismall day, though he be a stranger to me and I haue had no tryall in his vertues, yet his actions shew the honour of his mind: his valour, his noble education, and his courtesie, his wo [...]thy birth: I know by his Armour he is not of Arabia, his honourable mind, not hope of requitall, procuring him to venture his life in my rescue, which he hath too vntimely both hazarded and lost: which no doubt, will be as great a losse to his Country and Friends, as ever any en­dured. Were he once revived, I would not care what became of my selfe, nor néeded I not to care for his vertuous Valour would shrowd me from injuries, and be as safe a harbour as security can affoord. Her Lamentations could not so end, but she lengthened them some­times with wéeping, sometimes with lamenting: and then againe ready to drown her sorrowfull heart in salt teares. Aye me (said she) what shall now become of me? How shall I escape further misery? Here I am left alone ready to be devoured of wild beasts, yet what néed I feare any mischiefe, when so great misery is befalne me, as greater cannot be. Her laments conducted the steps of an aged Her­mit that dwelt in those Woods, vnto the place where she lay wéeping over Montelyon. She suddainly espying him, being halfe affrighted, said. If thou be a man pitty me, and helpe me to reviue this Knight. If thou béest a Ghost thinke not to affright me, for I am already full of feare, and if thou béest neither, then tell me what thou art? Damzell, said he, feare not, for I am a living Creature, as thou art, I pitty thy distresse, and well doe my best to helpe you. With that he knéeled downe by Montelyon rubbing his chéekes, and laying his hand vpon his brest, felt some signe of life in him, and séeking for an hearbe which presently he found, he bruised the same, letting the juyce fall into his Nostrels, with the vertue whereof his vitall sen­ces returned to their former operations, and his eyes received their sight: With that raising himselfe vp vpon his arme, hée said: I perceiue I haue troubled you, and as it were halfe ashamed of him­selfe, he desired her not to be disquieted with his misfortune. Philo­thetaes [Page] heart rejoyced to sée him revived now he was revived, not so well knowing what to say, as we did when he was in his Trance, but her vertue and his desert constraining her, she could doe no lesse then vtter these spéeches. Sir Knight, your courtesie so farre beyond my desert, hindeth me to yéeld you thankes, and thankes is an vnsuf­ficient requitall for your paines, although I know you not, nor never saw you vntill this day, yet our valour and courtesie in delivering me from Captivity, hath bound me to become gratefull, and deserveth more recompence then I am able to yéeld. Lady (said Montelyon) the Heavens haue assisted you, not my Valour: which I haue attempted without expectation of Recompence: If you thinke well of my paines, it is all the reward I craue.

The old Hermit perceived some strange accident had brought them thither, desired them, for that Montelyon was sore bruised, and she much affrighted and disquieted, to accept of his Cell to rest them in, vntill they could take better order for their safety. Montelyon thanked him (saying, he was pleased, so it liked the Lady.) With that they began to goe, but Montelyon, by reason of his sore bruise, with much adoe could stand: The Hermit taking him by the arme, sup­ported him, whilest he with griefe, that his misfortunes had brought him to such a low estate, said: It ill beséemeth Youth to be suppor­ted by Age: but no man can prevent Destiny. Philotheta offered to lend him her arme, but he desired her not to trouble her selfe. Sir said the Hermit, refuse not her courtesie, for in time of néed it is not good to be curious. With that she lent him her arme, but he tooke her hand, and that he thought too much boldnesse, as the other trou­ble, striving against the weaknes he had received by his bruise, to go vpright: she like wise wondred that Nature had wrought such a fa­miliar regard in her, towards him she knew not; often accusing her­selfe of Lightnesse, and blushing when he grasped her tender hand, that with fe [...]re, and Fancies striving, moystned his Palme; think­ing with her selfe. How is my estate altered, that to day was frée from care, and so suddainly brought to Bondage, and from Bondage to this disquiet, and all in a moment? I am now like one that is content with misery, and yet discontented with that Content; I could wish my selfe from hence, and yet were I gone, I should wish my selfe even here againe, because I desire this Knights Welfare, [Page] and yet me thinkes I should not be too Familiar, and yet I know he hath deserved much more courtesie then I can proffer. My mind is affected with a regard of his welfare, and yet am perswaded I should not doe so: and if I should not doe it, he might accuse me of discourte­sie: and if I be too kind, he may déeme me too affable. I would fain [...] know my disquiet, and yet me thinkes I am not disquieted, féeling my mind troubled, and know not why, desiring to shake it off, but not knowing how: it is regard of him, not of my selfe that troubleth me, and yet I neither know how to thinke well of him without my owne disquiet, nor how to be quiet without him: many such like co­gitations possest her fancy: that and other things for her part short­ning the way to the Cell, where they arrived: The Hermit giving Montelyon a Potion of certaine commixed Drugges, which com­forted him greatly, and Philotheta ▪ a Cup of Gréekish-Wine, which revived and quickned her affrighted heart: There was no light in the Roome; therefore as yet neither of them had séene each other; Montelyon wish't the day would appeare, that he might behold her Beauty; and shée, that she might behold whether his person were agréeable to his prowesse: and the Hermit desiring to sée what guesse he had entertained. Séeing them both silent, the one abstained for Griefe, the other for Modesty: After he had seated them on soft Ru­shes and Flagges, he said: As it séemeth to me▪ you are either of you Strangers to each other, which maketh me desirous to know what accident hath befallen you? Father (replyed Montelyon) in­déed we are so; for as yet I never beh [...]ld this Ladies countenance, yet I know her name is Philotheta, Daughter to the Duke of Ila: Which knowledge I got by this meanes: As then I and another Knight were travelling in search of a Lady, that hath long time béen missing, we chanced to espy two Damzels clad in white, passing by vs with great spéed, with whom I entred communication, and they told me that this Lady Philotheta was taken away from them by thrée Gyants, I returned to my Friend with this newes, and both of vs posted after them, vntill at a Crosse-way we parted, thinking if they went either way we should overtake them, but it was my good fortune to light on them, and by their deaths to frée this Lady, thinking my labour well bestowed to redéeme her from their trea­chery. Philotheta refrained her spéech, onely thanking him, fea­ring, [Page] lest he should séeme more courteous then modesty would per­mit, or more coy then vertue required. Sir, said the Hermit, I know those Gyants, and the manner of their life to be most inhumane▪ and wicked, whose Habitation is not farre off in the Desart of Arabia, by whose Death, this Countrey is fréed from much outrage, which they haue, and would daily haue committed. Sir (quoth Montelyon) I pray what Countrey is this? It is (said he) Arabia. Doth not He­lyon said he, raigne as King? Sir (quoth he) he did raigne as King, but whether he be now living or no, it is doubtfull: for some suppose he is dead, others say, he is Enchanted in a Tower he built himselfe, scituate not farre hence, from which he cannot be released, vntill the Enchantment be ended, which many Knights of strange Countryes haue adventured, but none could finish: the cause of building there­of, as yet no man can tell. Philotheta having before heard thereof, weary with that dayes travell, whilest they were in communication, fell asléepe, which Montelyon perceiving, remitted their communica­tion till the Morning, being vnwilling to awake her with their noyse.

The first that awaked was the Hermit, that went out to gather certaine hearbes, leaving them both sléeping, who both at once awa­ked, at the first blushing at each others sight, hée wondring at her excéeding beauty, and she at his exquisite person, he comparing the Damzels report to her beauty, and her other gifts thereto, which he supposed beyond conceit. And she comparing his valor with his youth, and his courtesie with both, thought her eye never beheld her equall: standing as it were both Enchanted with the other, neither being able long to withhold their eyes from each others sight, both noting each others behaviour, till Montelyon arose, and she did the like, hée first breaking silence, vttering these spéeches.

Faire Lady, now that the Sun hath vanished the misty Cloudes of night, you néed not feare any mishap, for your enemies being dead; I think there is none living of so inhumane a disposition, that would disquiet you For my selfe, my life, and all that I haue, resteth at your command.

Sir Knight, replyed she, I thanke you for your kindnesse past, and now proffered, which hath rid me from that I was in, and out of feare of other mishaps to come, for your Vertues haue [Page] authority against wicked actions, and your valour a sufficient defence against your enemies. Before any further spéeches past, the Hermit came, bringing in his hand the hearbes he had gathered, some of which he stamped into juyce, and strained, giuing Montelyon to drink, others he boyled on the fire, making thereof a most dainty Dish, which when they had tasted, the Hermit said: though I know you find your selfe of sufficient strength, yet by my counsell travell not this day, for that therby you may much impaire your health. My selfe if pleaseth this Lady, will send a Messenger to Ila, to report her safety in this place. Not so (replyed Montelyon) my selfe (if please her to accept of my Service) will attend her thither: which if it please her I will presently doe.

Sir (said she) I would not haue you endanger your health for my sake that am in safety, vntill such time as you are perfectly recove­red. Then said the Hermit, you shall not in this place want any thing, nor feare disquiet, for héere hath security dwelt many dayes, being my selfe glad, my poore Cell can yéeld you any content. The Hermit went forth to get Provision, leaving them together in his Cell, whose eyes were drunke with a surfetting survay of each o­thers perfections, her beauty being such, as might not bée equalled by any: And his proportion besides his youths beauty, and other comelinesse of such forme, as would please any Ladies eye, which superficiall view of the eye, conducted an instant of Loue into each others part, which setled it selfe in that vertuous harbour with such constancy, that it was impossible to be removed: neither déeming each others so fortunate, to agrée in such a Sympathy of Loue, hée thinking she would not loue, and she perswading her selfe he had al­ready setled his Loue on that Lady he went in search of. Hée not knowing which way to frame his Sute on so small acquaintance, nor shée, how to shew him favour without further tryall. Shée first breaking silence with a heart-breathing sigh bred from the depth of meditation, whereupon he tooke occasion to stay. Lady, that sigh be wrayeth some disquiet of mind that troubleth you, the occasion whereof, my small acquaintance and vnworthinesse to bée so bold, withholdeth me from enquiring, but if you would yéeld mée such fa­vour as impart your Secrets to me, I would proue so faithfull and diligent to pleasure you, that you would commend my willingnesse, [Page] though not my ability: For my heart wisheth my tongue to vtter that which my Fancy perswadeth me from: not for that they disa­grée, but for that my heart harboureth that which my fancy biddeth me not [...]tter, because it feareth you will not beléeue it, and yet you might beléeue it if it were of more antiquity: for it is commonly hol­den for truth, that all things of Antiquity are permanent, which ne­ver would haue béene if they had not first begun in youth, youth being the first Foundation, the Foundation is then constant, then things though young of growth containe circumstancy, which being cheri­shed grow to perfection.

So Lady, if I might without your misconceit, discover the con­stant zeale of [...]ur perfections that is rooted in my heart, and find some sparke of your gentle favour to comfort it, it would grow to such setled resolution, that nothing should remoue it, but if in the first Spring it be blasted with Disfavour, it will then spread it selfe into all parts of my Sences, tormenting every part of me, vntill it be che­rished by the dew of your kindnesse. I cannot protest, nor vow, nor sweare, that I haue loved long, yet if your suspect convert not the truth of my well meaning Words into distrust, I durst, protest, vow, and sweare, that loue to your Perfections is setled in my heart an [...] nothing can remoue it.

Sir (replyed she) should I credit your Words, or impart my Se­crets to you, it might be accounted too much credulity: yet without blame I might, it relying on your Vertues: or should I grant it were as you say, that Loue began in a moment, being the roote is the substance, and therefore permanent, yet how would you thinke of one, if vpon so small probability, I should thanke you for your goodwill, and accept thereof, not measuring me by your selfe, if you are constant, but measuring me by inconstancie, would judge mée light, as I may well account your Words of course, yet as much good Will as may grow in so short an acquaintance I beare you, measu­ring the same by your owne: for if you find cause to loue me, I haue more cause to be thankfull vnto you for your kindnesse, that haue re­ceived good by you. But neither estéeme me light, for being so fami­liar, nor easily to be won because I am courteous for should I be coy, you might account me vnmannerly, and not wo [...]thy to be assisted as I haue béene by you.

[Page]Lady, replyed Montelyon, would I harbour a thought that might impeach the least title of your compleat Vertue, I were wor­thy to be hated: for I know that truth is plaine, and néedeth no co­loured Phrases nor Curios [...]tie: which animateth me to en [...]er into this bold conference with you, not framing my words of course, but of true devotion, trusting that your vertue will pardon my boldnesse, and your courtesie censure my meaning aright: for I find in my selfe an vnwonted alteration, which desire to be gracious in your sight, hath bred in me (Nature now [...] f [...]aming it) which I neither know how to manifest, nor dare by reason of the small continuance a vow, though my soule knoweth my hearts purity and consent there­to, fearing to be misconceived of you: yet if you will vouchsafe to make triall of me, and grant me but to be your Ser [...]ant, in time to be tryed and censured according to my truth, I shall account my selfe most fortunate, that yet hope may be anchor of my comfort, one day to be gracious in your sight.

Sir (replyed she) how could I but blame my selfe, if I should yéeld you any favour other then for your late paines, which shall bind me to requite it to my power▪ but loue, being another subject, how should I giue you any credit being a stranger, altogether vnknowne to me? Lady (said he) you may doe it, if your gentle heart will yéeld thereto, though I am a stranger both to you, and to my selfe, vnknowne: for that I am you can witnesse, but who are my Parents the Heavens haue yet concealed. My name if ever you heard thereof, is Monte­lyon: my cause of comming into this Countrey, was with Persicles King of Assyria in search of Constantia, Daughter to the King of Per­sia, his betrothed wife, by misfortune lost many yeares since: all that I know of my selfe I haue told you, and would I had never knowne my selfe, vnlesse you favour me. Philotheta remembred that Amphi­ador in reciting the Warres betwixt Persicles, and the King of Arme­nia, had made ample report of his Valour, so much the more with that report loving him, yet she concealed the same from him, thinking though he were never so valiant, yet he might be vnconstant: making vnto him this answere.

Sir, because you shall not altogether accuse me of discourtesie, I will not quite deny your sute, nor in any respect grant it, vntill more convenient time to make tryall thereof, neither shall you name your [Page] selfe my Servant, for that you haue deserved to be better rewarded, which hereafter you shall find.

Lady (quoth he) one favour absolutely granted, would now more comfort my heart, then many in suspence, nor that I misdoubt your performance, but that long lingring paine in the meane time will pinch my heart: Therefore without misdoubt of Truth, gratitude and constancy, inrich me but with one, though the least comfortable answer.

Sir Knight (replyed she) what in vertue I can grant, I will yéeld you, though you may account me already prodigall in Favour, and gentle in reply: yet should I be ingratefull, you might blame me, or too prolixe you might condemne me: but as much good will as in so short continuance may be, I beare you, and you shall find me per­forme, for my heart will never suffer me till this, to conceiue so well of any as I doe of you: in vrging me further you shall make mée suspect you: consideration of my late Misfortune, rather willing me to regard my returne to my Parents: but you may sée your vertues haue overmastered my mistrust, and a good opinion of you, hath made me trust my selfe [...] your Custody.

CHAP. XXIV. How Amphiador arrived neare the Cell, and of the doubt that Philo­theta was driven into: And of the displeasure that arose betweene Montelyon and Amphiador: and of Philothetaes strange departure.

As soone as she had ended these words, the Hermit came in, which broke off their communication, and telling them how that Amphiador with a many followers were come into the Wood, where the Gyants lay dead. Philotheta then thought all care past, but suddenly remembring she must part from Montelyon, her heart fainted with griefe, and her sences were excée­dingly troubled, for she knew well Amphiador was so rude and suspi­tious, that he would neither thank him for his paines, nor invite him to his Castle, for he had with like jealous conceits disgraced others that had sought her loue. Montelyon on the other side, studyed what meanes to vse, still to enjoy her company; and yet he thought it would [Page] turne to his dishonour to follow loue, and leaue Persicles search for Constantia, and the knowledge of his Parents. But to rid them both out of their troubled thoughts, there entred thrée Knights in gréene Armour, and without speaking a word, two of them tooke Philotheta betwixt them, and led her out of the Cell. Montelyon started vp and drew his Sword, and following to rescue her, but the third of them without speaking strooke at him, where with began a cruell Combat. At last the gréene Knight said: Thou strivest in vaine, she is past recoverie. With that Montelyon looking about, saw them quite out of his sight, marvailing they could so suddainly convey her thence: If thou wilt find her (quoth he) thou shalt find her amongst the Hespe­rian Nymphes: which said, he went away so fast, that Montelyon thought it vaine to follow him. By this time Amphiador and his company were come to him: amongst whom he espyed one leading his Stéed, vnto whom he went and said: Sir, this is my Stéed, I pray thée deliver him me: the Fellow denying him, he strooke him a second blow with his fist and overthrew him. Amphiador séeing that, said: What art thou that so boldly strikest my Servant? Montelyon be­ing vexed with the losse of Philotheta answered, [...] will not now tell thée. Amphiador being likewise vexed with his scornefulnesse, without more words drew his Sword, and strooke at him: Monte­lyon thought to revenge it, but suddainly remembring himselfe, hée said: Wert thou not Father to Philotheta, I would make thée re­pent thy selfe: Amphiador hearing him name Philotheta, would haue spoke to him againe, but Montelyon mounting his Stéed rode away.

The Hermit séeing them at such variance, came to Amphiador, giving him knowledge of all that had happened: But he rather belée­ving it was some méere coloured excuse for her escape caused his Servants to bind the Hermit, intending by tortures to make him confesse more then he could. Montelyon remembring himselfe when he had rode a good way, how ingratefully he had left the Hermit, tur­ned backe, which he had no sooner done, but he espyed him bound amongst Amphiadors men, Which vexed himso much that he drew his Sword againe, and set vpon them, wounding some of them, and slaying others, that there with Amphiador with his Sword drawne strooke him again. By Heaven (quoth Montelion) strike me the third [Page] time and thou diest. Notwithstanding his words, Amphiador vexed for the death of his Servants, strooke him againe, where with Mon­telyon not onely defended himselfe, but offended him so much that he had sore wounded him, and had not his Servants with some of their liues borne of some blowes, he had ended his life: but notwithstan­ding, he left him in a miserable case, that his Servants had much adoe to kéepe life in him, vntill they brought him home.

CHAP. XXV. How Mont [...]lyon in his Travell arrived at the Flower of the Hospe­rian Nymphes. How every one of them gave him a severall gift, and how they named him Knight of the Oracle.

MOntelyon having fréed the Hermit, yéelding him ma­ny thanks for his kindnesse, departed with so heavie a heart, that he could scarce speake for griefe, tra­vailing he knew not whether, having so many occa­sions of care, that he knew not what to doe, nor which way to direct his steps. All the rest of that day he rode forth-right in this discomfortable sort, vntill it grew to be Night, neither caring for Meat nor Lodging, but turning his Horse loose to féed, he laid himselfe downe vnder an Oake, whose sprea­ding Branches were as large Canopie over his head, clogged with so many diversities of cares, that his heart was dulled with their confusion, and his Sences so overgrowne with conceit, that they brought him into a dead sléepe. In the middest whereof, he suddainly awake, being called by a Virgin that appeared vnto him, who standing before him, said, Knight, arise, and follow me. Montelyon marvailing what he should be, arose and followed her, shée leading the way he thought, through many by-paths, and crosse-wayes, Hils, Dales, and Woods, vntill such time as the Sun arose, she vani­shed out of his sight, and left him in the middest of a pleasant gréene Meadow, beautified with all sorts of fresh blowne flowers, whose beauty delighted the eye, and swéet smell affected the Sences, looking round about him, he saw the same encompassed with Springs, or Groues of young Trées, and in the middest thereof, an Arbour, fra­med of fresh blooming Roses, made with such Art, as he admired the [Page] same: comming néere the [...]eto, he espyed the Floore strowed with gréene Rushes, and vpon them, all sorts of flowers nipt from the stalkes: he stood a while with admiration beholding the same, and casting his eye aside, he espyed a Table with these Verses written thereon.

Which when he had read, he stood in a déepe study, arguing their Ambuguity, when suddenly he heard the Sound of most swéet Mu­sicke drawing neare him, turning his eyes that way, he espyed a troope of Damzels, attired in most rich Ornaments, with Garlands of Roses, mixt with divers coloured Flowers vpon their heads, som [...] of them playing vpon Instruments, others bearing in their hands a Bowe, and at their backe, a sheat of Arrowes. Amongst them there was thrée taller, more beautifull, and richly adorned then the rest, wearing Crownes of Palme: amongst them he espyed the Damozell that brought him thither, which made him with more boldnesse stay their comming, they passed by him continuing their Melody, vntill they came within their Pavilion, then two of them came forth, saluting him with most courteous and gentle behavi­our; leading him to the Pavilion, vntill he came neare to the place where they were all seated, and the thrée principall sate in the midst, Montelyon Disarming his head, knéeling vpon his Knée, did them Rever [...]nce, whom presently he heard a voice vttering of these words.

Most noble Knight, the Nymphes of the Hesperian Oracle, pitty­ing thy cares and troubles, haue brought thée hither to comfort thée with our assistance: vnto which place never any man was yet ad­mitted: therefore to deale not to any what show hast séene: with thy Sword maintaine the [...]e honour, and name thy selfe, Knight of the Oracle. Thy Parentage is Noble, thy Father not knowing he hath [Page] a Sonne, and your Mother not thinking to sée either Father or Son, yet all of you shall most happily méete: thy Fortune shall be good, thy misfortune great, that which thou lovest best, shall trouble thée most: What thou thinkest thy selfe nearest, thou shalt be farthest off: thy professed Friends, thy greatest Foes. Thou wert begotten in Persia, borne in Arabia, and brought vp in Assyria. Be constant in Loue, true to thy Friends, patient in misery, and lowly in prosperity. Farewell, and be both happie and vnfortunate.

The Voice ceasing, the Nimphes came round about him, one vngirding his Sword, another vnlacing his Helme, and the third vn­buckling his Armour: Others taking of his Gantlets, and every one busied to Disarme him. Which done, one of the chiefest of them presented him with a most rich and curious ingraven Armor, wrought of the best and purest Lydian-stéele, enamelled all over with gréene, richly beset with Diamonds, Saphyrs, Iaspires, and Rubies, the like whereof, for Strength and richnesse, never Knight possest: Which when they had Armed him withall, the Second gaue him a Shéeld, agréeable thereto in Richnesse, with this devise thereon: A Knight knéeling incompassed with Nymphs, Crowning him with a wreath of Roses. And vnderneath, these Words written in Gold: The Knight of the Oracle; The third presented him with a most rich Sword, which he gyrded to his side, Another, a paire of Gant­lets: another a Plume: another a Speare: another a paire of Spurs, and every one something to expresse their kindnesse. When he was adorned with this rich Furniture, which made him most beau­tifull to behold, every one of them gaue him a courteous Farewell, and departed againe the same way they came from the Groue, with their Musicke: the Damzell that brought him thither, came to him, vttering these words: Knight, the Ladies of this Oracle, pittying the hard Adventures you are to vndertake, haue bestowed these Armes vpon you, which shall oftentimes preserue your life: and haue honoured you so much, as to choose you for their Knight. They haue like wise appointed me to bring you backe to the place where I found you: Therefore let vs depart, my selfe will giue you a Stéed, whose equall for goodnesse cannot be had. Which when she had said, she led the way, and he followed on, vntill they came to a Castle, into which the Damzell entred, willing him to stay till she returned, lea­ding [Page] in her hand a Stéed, blacke of colour, but of such goodly propor­t [...]on, that his eyes had never beheld the like before: when he was mounted, the Damzell said vnto him Knight of the Oracle, farewell, prosper, and be fortunate, which she had no sooner spoken, but straight she vanished from his sight before he could haue respite to yéeld her thankes for her courtesie. Being parted from her, he entred into these meditations, which shortned the way as he rode.

How farre am I blest beyond my desert, having received such favour and gifts of Nymphes, as yet never any man did, insomuch that they haue elected me to the high Honour of being their Knight: and yet for all this, I féele my heart so much troubled, that nothing can rid me from disquiet, onely for the absence and losse of Philotheta, whom I had thought to haue found amongst those sacred Nymphes but was frustrated, which assureth me, my travels in séeking her will be tedious, yet I shall endure them, although they last to the end of my Life. I haue lost the noble King Persicles, who by this time accu­ [...]eth me of discourtesie for not finding him out, but how can I doe that, when I haue lost my selfe and Philotheta: and in her my essence, being, and substance: which of these is dearest vnto me, I know not: my selfe I loue by nature, him for his Honour, and her by affection, Which then [...]hould I first goe in search of, since they are both so deare vnto me, as I thinke my selfe deprived of comfort, missing either of them: my estate is also so vncertaine, and the place where to find them so doubtfull, that I cannot assure my selfe of confidence in either, but must take my Fortune as it falleth, and arme my selfe with patience to endure the most hardest tryall of extreames: the intricacie of his hopelesse meditations, would haue lengthened his spéech, but casting off effeminate lamentation, he quickned his Sen­ces with revived comfort, though his travels would be long, yet his reward (if he might find his Loue) would a thousand times counter­vaile them. Then he began to study which way to travell, being as ignorant of the place that Philotheta was, as he was vnacquainted in those walkes: riding along in those and such like solitary dumpes, he at length lighted in a plaine faire beaten Path, in the furrowes of whose Dust, he might perceiue the footing of Horses that had newly gone that way, which put him in some comfort that it would not be long before he should find some Company: He had not rode [Page] about an houre, but the way into which he had entred, ascended a high Mountaine, whose lofty top discovered to his sight the faire Turrets of the Enchanted Tower, which glistered as if they had béene fra­med of Massie Gold, which draue him into an admiration: but viewing well the Scituation thereof, he discerned the Valleyes round about overspred with Tents, as if the same had béene en­compassed with a Host of Enemies, Thither hée intended to tra­vell, forsaking the gallant prospect, to be acquainted with the cause of that Assembly, making the more hast, for that it grew towards night: but ere he could attaine thither, it grew to hée darke: therefore for that Night, he tooke vp his Lodging vnder the covert of a tuske of trées, pleasantly seated in the middest of a gréene Meddow.

CHAP. XXVI. Of the Conference betweene Constantia and Philotheta in Penthrasus Castle.

THe History hath long discontinued to speak of the Lady Constantia that remained Enchanted, and of Helyon that like wise lay their inthralled in great misery, rightly rewarded for his treache­rous dealing. Her eyes shedding continuall teares for the absence of Persicles, on whom she continually meditated, resolving that nothing but death should abolish his remembrance, that had not Ila comforted her with promises of her release, the extremity of her Sorrow had soone ended her life: withall thinking that Persicles and her young Sonne might both bée in safety, and yet she by no meanes could heare thereof: which also added some comfort to her heauy heart. Oftentimes she would intreat her to behold the va­liant adventures of Noble Knights that hazarded their owne Per­sons in the adventure for to attaine her Loue, and in private tryall [...] amongst themselues, with whom they were déepely in loue, onely with the sight of her Picture, but she still refused it, accounting it no pleasure to her to sée their misfortune, that spent their labour in vain, [Page] for in the continuance of so many yeares as she had béene there inclo­sed, the fame of her beauty was spred into most parts of those Coun­tries, and many thousand Knights had béene their to try their For­tunes, but all failed: the recitall whereof would be ever tedious, but many of them lay their imprisoned by the Enchantresse, who now being in despaire of her owne safety, sought to bring all to miserie, as well as her selfe: At such time as Philotheta was carried from Montelyon in the Hermits Cell. Constantia remained in such extre­mity of sorrow, that had not Ila wrought that device to bring Philo­theta thither to accompany her, it had béene impossible her Sences could haue overgrowne the extremity of the passion tormented her: but sitting alone in a darke corner, best fitting her sad disposition, she vttered such lamentations as would haue turned the flintiest heart of a most cruell Tyrant to remorse: but suddainly espying Ila entred, and with her so beautifull a Damzell, with chéekes bedewed with Christall teares, that in aboundunce trickled downe her face: with that object she left her owne laments to pitty hers, and séeing them draw nigh to her, she arose after a sad fort, saluting their sad aproach. Ila without speaking a word, left them together. Though they were both women, yet both admiring each others beauty, either thinking the other to ex [...]ell all, and yet had they beheld their owne perfections, they might inwardly haue conceived as well of themselues, as they did of the outward obiect.

Constantia being more familiar with sorrow then Philotheta was, first brake silence, saying Lady, I perceiue your teares that con­straint, not your consent, hath brought you to this place, beautifull to the eye, but fill'd with discontents, which long experience hath taught me: therefore if you want a companion in care, accept of my company, but if you séeke for comfort abandon me, for my chiefest solace is sor­row, and my very thoughts and meditations of nothing but discontent. I haue not (said Philotheta) béene long subject to this misfortune: but being now plunged therein, I know not how to release my selfe, or how to shun the same: neither knowing who is the cause thereof, where I am; or when I shall be released, that my Sorrowes are such as may well entertaine a sorrowfull companion, accepting your proffered kindnesse, with hearty thankes.

Lady (said Constantia) as you vouchsafe me your company, so let [Page] me know what misfortune hath brought you hither, which will shor­ten some of the tedious time that we are like to overpasse in this place: Which done, you shall know to whom you haue imparted your mind, the recitall whereof will be tedious, Philotheta sitting downe by her, vttered these spéeches. My name is Philotheta, Daughter in law to Amphiador: Vpon a day as I was walking in my Fathers Garden, vpon what pretence I know not, thrée Gyants surprised me, and by force carried me thence, none to my knowledge séeing their cruelty: when they had travailed with me vntill it waxed late, a Knight armed all in white, gallantly mounted, came to my rescue, and entred Combate with the Gyants, his valiant heart not refusing to cop [...] with all thrée of them. But one of them thinking himselfe too strong for him, stayed to combate with him, the other two with hast carrying me away, but in short space one of them ranne back to rescue his fellow whom the Knight had slaine, himselfe likewise returning with losse of one of his armes, haling me forwards with violent force, vntill they came into the midst of a Wood, where they meant to stay that night. This Knight directed by good fortune, alighted on the place where they lay, and by his Valour and pollicie slue them both, yet so sore hurt himselfe, that he lay breathlesse vpon the earth, which afflicted my heart with Sorrow, fearing his death, that I could not comfort him in ought by my teares and laments, accounting it more misfortune for mée to be the cause of so worthy a Knights Death, then I my selfe had béene still Prisoner to those Monsters: the Heavens favouring my sorrowes and his mishaps, directed an old Hermit to the place, who with the juyce of certaine hearbs recovered him, and with my weake assistance brought him to his Cell, within short space curing him. In which time I noted every part of his per­fections, and found them such as I want skill to decipher comparing thereto his behaviour, which bred a perswasion in me, that as he was valiant, so he was vertuous, and as he excelled all that ever I beheld in person, so he did in courtesie. Much conference past betwixt vs, which I omit: The Subject whereof was Loue, which he averred to be as constant in him, though new begun as it was in any by long continuance.

Amongst the rest of his spéeches, he told me, that he knew not his Parents, his name was Montelyon: the cause of his travell was [Page] in search of a Lady named Constantia, betrothed Wife to Persicles King of Assyria who parted from him that day he rescued me in Arabia. Constantia hearing of such good newes of the safety of Persi­cles, could not withhold her selfe from bewraying what she was: but taking Philotheta by the hand said, deare Lady, this newes ad­deth much comfort to my dispayring Heart, I am that vnfortunate Constantia, that till this time haue dispayred of ever séeing that no­ble King againe, accounting my selfe so much bound to you, for being the happy reporter of this welcome newes, that I protest my selfe your everlasting Friend, assuring you, that if that worthy Knight that rescued you be Companion to Persicles hée is indued with all Heroicke vertues: but I pray you tell me out the rest. The worthy Knights spéeches (said she) wrought so effectually with me, that I could haue béene contented to haue lived there with him for ever. In the end the Hermit brought in newes that Amphiador was hard by in my search, at which newes I was very glad, yet also displeased, with knowing his rude behaviour would not suffer him to vse the strange Knight kindly. Whilst I was in this thought, thrée Knights in gréene Armour entred the Cell, two of them without speaking a word, by force carrying me forth, whilest the third stayed the Knight in Combate, who hastily followed to my rescue: but of a suddaine, be­fore I could bethinke me what they should be▪ I was within this Garden, where I met her that brought me vnto you, who willed me to feare nothing, for here I should remaine in safety. With that such a flood of teares gushed from her eyes, that they stopt the passage of her spéech, turning the same into silence. Lady (said Constantia) to adde more care to my Heart, would overwhelme it with griefe, there­fore I will omit the Relation of my Tragicke History till another time, neither fearing nor féeling care, now I heare of my Lords safe­ty, who, will set me at liberty from the thraldome I haue here endu­red almost these twenty yeares. Ila comming to them brake of their conference. After Supper convaying them to a Chamber, where they both lay, continuing some dayes in much conference of their estate▪ which for brevity sake is omitted.

CHAP. XXVII. How Montelyon Knight of the Oracle arrived at the Enchanted Tower, called Penthrasus Pallace. And of the controversie that fell betweene him and the Knights that were come to try the Ad­venture.

THe Knight of the Oracle, as it is aforesaid, having lodged all night in the Wood, earely the next Morning before Golden Phaebus had beautified the Earth with his brightnesse, mounted his Stéed with an earnest desire to know whose Tents those were, and what Tower it was they had encompassed, he had not rode halfe an houre, but he approached néere vnto them, passing amongst them without stay, because he met none to conferre withall, he drew towards the entrance of the Bridge, where Constantiaes Picture hung, which when he had well viewed, he judged by the outward shew thereof, what perfections were adherent to the Lady, that was owner thereof, thereby calling to remembrance his Philothetaes per­fections, which in his conceit farre surpassed that, but yet the Spell that Ila had cast thereon, wrought so with him, that had not the Vertue of his Armour, and other gifts the Nymphes had bestowed on him, which had power against all Enchantments prevailed, hée had surely doted thereon: when he had read the Verses, an earnest desire possest his heart to redéeme that Lady, that neither regarding Danger, nor omitting Opportunity, he tooke the Horne and winded the same, the Sound thereof made many Knights start from forth of their Tents, being but even then vp, and newly Armed: the first, that was mounted, and came to the Bridge: was a noble Knight of Parthia, named Menon, who calling to the Knight of the Oracle, said, Knight enter no farther before thou know whom thou hast of­fended by thy bold intrusion. He hearing his words turned his Stéed saying, if I haue offended any it is more then I know but yet I am resolved to try the adventure who so ever sayes no. Menon said thy strangenesse doth priviledge thée, because thou knowest not what is concluded among the Knights that are héere assembled. Sir (said he) whatsoever agréeth with the Law of Armes I yéeld vnto, and whatsoever courtesie bindeth me to I will performe: therefore [Page] let me know what it is I must performe before I passe further? By this time he was incompassed with Armed Knights: and one of them named Linseus, of Arabia, that thought himselfe too good for all, and vanquished many that had Combated with him, said. Be­fore thou passe further, thou must Combat with vs: For the meanest of many that are here assembled, thinketh himselfe able to performe as much as thée. The Knight of the Oracle wondring at their rude­nesse, and moved with his discourteous words, said: I am not to be controlled by any, but stand frée in mine owne choise, to doe what I thinke good: therefore if thou or any here be offended with that I haue said or done, Challenge me. I doe Challenge thée said Linseus, and I, said Menon: and after them many other, every one de­sirous to deale with him first. The Prince of Parthia, (named Nessus) stept forth and said. Fellow Knights, wée being all pro­sessours of Armes, and every one a Partner in this Quarrell, let vs cast Lots, and to his share that the Lot, first falleth, let him begin and the rest fellow: With that they all agréed. The Knight of the Oracle thought he should not be Idle, rejoycing that he had so good occasion to make tryall of his Valour, The Lot fell to Arnon of Persia to begin. The place, a goodly Plaine, in the full view of the Tower: and the time, was within an houre. This being agréed vpon, the Knight of the Oracle in the meane time rode about the Tower to behold the beauty and Scituation thereof, which he admired, and casting his Eye vp, he beheld on the Battlement a farre off, thrée Ladies walking together, whom he could scarcely discerne [...] much lesse if he had béene acquainted with them, know. These La­dies were Constantia, Philotheta, and Ila, that came to behold the Tilts and Turneys that were daily acted betwéen many and divers Knights before the Tower. Constantia hearing of Persicles safety, and of his being in that Countrey, hoping thereby in time to bée released, desired to behold the Combatants, which before she had alwayes refused to doe. The Knight of the Oracle little thinking Philotheta had béene one of the thrée, after he had a while stood to behold them, returned to the appointed place of Combate, where Ar­non was then but newly entred with great Pride and the Sound of Trumpets, and a number of followers. Whom the Knight of the Oracle, (notwithstanding all his bravery) overthrew at the first [Page] Encounter, to Arnons amazement, and his owne glory. That done, the next that encountred him, was Linseus, who held out two courses, but at the third, both he and his Stéed lay on the earth. The Knights that beheld this, commended his Valour, yet enuyed his Fortune. After that he encountred thrée Knights of Aegypt. Then came Nessus Prince of Parthia, thinking to recover that his Prece­dents had lost, but his Fortune proved so bad that he lost both his Styrrops, and had he not hung on the Saddle. Bow, hée had laine on the Ground. The Day by this time drew to an end, which caused them to remit their further tryall till the next Morning. Constantia and Philotheta beholding the Valour of this one Knight, accor­ding to her desire, déemed it was Persicles, the other Montelyon: de­siring Ila, to send a Messenger to know his Name: Who returning, told them he was called the Knight of the Oracle. Then it is not Persicles (said Constantia.) No, nor Montelyon (said Philotheta.) Their Hearts now fainting with care, that before were revived with hope. The Knight of the Oracle that Night Lodged with a Knight of Persia, named Thymus, in his Tent, who in courteous sort intreated him thereto. Earely the next Morning, he againe en­tred the Field, ready for him that should next Encounter him, who came gallantly mounted, having likewise travailed many Miles to try his Fortune in the Adventure: but before he came to try him­selfe therein, he received so great a Discharge, by Encountring the Knight of the Oracle, that in a desperate moode, and ashamed of his Foyle, he departed. The Knight of the Oracle being endued with an extraordinary Wit, as receiving the Essence thereof from two such goodly Princes as he was sprung of, began in his thoughts to condemne the fondnesse of those Knights, that comming to make tryall of the Adventure, spent their time in private Quarrels, still omitting that which principally they had sought, his Mind being so troubled with the losse of Philotheta and Persicles, desired not to lin­ger there, but to hasten in their search. Therefore parting towards the Knights, who were assembled on a heape, studying which way to worke his disgrace, he said to them. Worthy Knights, my com­ming to this place, was not to try my Fortune against you, but in the Aduenture, and your private Enuy hath hitherto hindred mée, not regarding into what private Quarrels you enter, and causelesly [Page] troubling me, that haue not offended you: Therefore because busi­nesse of more importance then to answer your Spléene, vrgeth my departure, I wish you, not fearing my ability to answer you, to re­mit this private Contention vntill another time: and if any of you either enviously condemne me, or repine at my good Fortune, I will be ready to answer you severall Quarrels in Persia, at the time that is appointed for the méeting of the Kings of Assyria, and Arme­nia: for the cause of your approach, being to release this Ladies im­prisonment, weaken not your force in private Contention: for in the Tryall thereof, you shall find occasion enough to exercise your Armes.

Hearing his words they consented thereunto, yet contending who should first try the Adventure. In the end they agréed to cast Lots: in which the last fell to the Knight of the Oracle: every one having a Dayes respite for the finishing thereof. Thus did they make tryall of themselues: Some with such labour attaining the Bridge, but then forced by vertue of the Enchantment to yéeld, and so were im­prisoned in most Lamentable wise, by the Enuy of Ila, who desired the Enchantment might never end, but that she might liue there for ever. Others with feare ran away. Many dayes it was before it came to the Knight of the Oracles turne: In the end, all being either fledor imprisoned, he alone was left to try his Fortune, neither ha­ving Friend to succour him, Foe to Enuy him, nor any to behold him: for the Enchantresse had made such Desolation among the Tents, by casting fires amongst them, that all the Servants to those Knights, fled as amazed, reporting from place to place their Masters misery, and the cause of their owne terror. Notwithstanding, no­thing could affright or discourage the valiant heart of the Knight of the Oracle, but he rested as resolute to goe forwards, as if there had beene no danger incident to the attempt.

Constantia séeing how many Knights were at that instant im­prisoned, all their Tents destroyed, and no man she thought left, began to discomfort her selfe, vtterly despairing of releasement, desi­ring Ila to let her view the Knights that were Imprisoned, fearing that Persicles was amongst them: but her requests were in vaine, for Ila fretted with extreame feare of the end of her Enchantment, in a mad rage flung from them, studying which way to lengthen the [Page] date thereof, which tormented poore Constantiaes heart, that had béen so long in misery, and terrified kind Philothetaes mind with extreame feare of further calamity. Both she and Constantia all that Night bewailing their misery.

CHAP. XXVIII. How the Knight of the Oracle finished the Enchantment. And how Ila departed with Philotheta.

IN the Morning early, the Knight of the Oracle, survay­ing the Scituation of the Bridge, which way he might either advantage himselfe, or disadvantage his Foe, winded his Horne, wherewith there was such an ex­céeding Earth-Quake within the Tower, that the Foundation thereof shooke as if it would haue overturned her stately Turrets. At which first Sound of the Horne, one of the Gyants came foorth without speaking, striking at him, but he defended himselfe a great while on Horsebacke, vntill the Gyant pressed so hard vpon him, that he was driven to withdraw him to light. Which when he had done, he againe assayled him, giving him many a déepe wound, and recei­ving many a sore bruise, that had not his good Armour preserved him, it had brought him in great danger: but in the end▪ he prevailed so much by the death of the first Gyant, that he attained the first and second Fortification of the Bridge. And at the third he was so vio­lently set vpon by the other Gyant, that he was onely compelled to ward his blowes, in the end likewise espying such advantage that he ran his Sword quite through his body. By which meanes, he en­tred the first large Court, where he beheld the Armours of such Knights as had fayled in their sundry attempts, hanging about the Walls, hearing their hollow voyces, which by imprisonment had en­dured much affliction. Ila now knowing that the date of her glory in that place should end, in furious sort came running to the place where Constantia and Philotheta were, taking Philotheta with violence from out of the Arbour, and by force of her Enchantment, compelling her to follow her, vntill she came to the Court where the Knight of the Oracle was, he suddainly behelding Philotheta, at the first sight knew her: and séeing them so passe by him, towards the Entrance, he stept after them to speake to her, when presently ther rusht vpon him a number of Armed men that laid vpon him with [Page] such swiftnesse, that they had no power to stirre from the place where he stood. They suddainly vanished, and he stood so amazed with the sight, and perplexed with such doubt, that he could not tell what to doe: Sometimes thinking to follow in Philotheta: then perswading himselfe it was but an illusion: and thinking to cast off that doubt, and goe forwards, his mind was possest with such desire to sée her againe, for that he stood as a man without sence. When suddainly such a Mist darkened all the place, that he could scarcely sée his hands, which continued by the space of halfe an houre. Whilest he remained in such thoughts, sometimes of perswasion it was Philotheta, which troubled his very heart to thinke what should be become of her, that he séemed to haue lost her Sences by the sight of her: remaining in many meditations, the Myst vanished, and the Sun with excéeding Splendor, disclosed the beauty of Penthrasus Pallace. When he saw no further expectation of danger approaching, he entred further, to­wards the thrée Gates of Brasse, beholding the curious workes thereof, through which he entred into the Court, which drew his mind into much admiration thereof. Entring the Hall, he beheld the two Lyons (which kept the Passage) that with a faire prospect dis­covered the beauty of the Garden. The Lyons no sooner espyed him, but they presently made such a noyse with their Roring, that all the Pallace rung thereof. And Constantia hearing the same, cryed out, as excéedingly affrighted. The Knight of the Oracle attempted to passe by them, expecting no other but cruell resistance: yet contrary to his thoughts, they laid themselues downe at his féet (as it were) reve­rencing him: Which when he beheld, of his owne inclination, he loo­sed both their Chaines, and they ran forth of the Pallace with excée­ding swiftnesse, which amazed him to behold.

Passing through the Hall, he entred the Garden, looking round about, to behold the beauty thereof, when suddainly he began to won­der, that he had beheld never a living creature since he entred, which draue him into an excéeding Admiration, marvailing that he could not behold the Lady of whose Picture he had beheld at the entrance, to that finding himselfe over-wearyed with labour, purposing to rest his Body, he returned into the Hall, and there seated himselfe in a most rich and costly Chayre. Constantia being in the Arbour, be­held when he entred the Garden, and when he went backe, marve­ling what he should be, and little thinking the Enchantment was [Page] ended, not daring her selfe to goe forth of the Arbour, her heart was so possest with amazement, desired one of the Damzels, if she loved her, to goe sée what he was, and learn the cause of that vprore, which they had heard in the Pallace. One of the Damzels being more har­dy then the other, told her, how for the Loue she bare her, she would adventure, though it cost her her life. Passing on towards the Pal­lace, with such hasty steps, as if something had pursued her, and yet going forwards, as if an evill had béen before her, that she could ney­ther tell, whether, wherefore, nor why she went: vntill of a sudden she mounted the passage into the Hall, and was right before the Knight of the Oracle: Whom when she saw, she stood looking vp­on him, trembling as if she had béene distraught. The Knight of the Oracle, rising from his seate, said: Damzell, feare not, I will defend you from danger, héere is none intendeth your harme. The Damzell hearing his voyce, was revived, saying: Sir Knight, I marvell what strange accident hath brought you hither, where no Knight hath béen these many yeares? Lady (said he) Fortune and my good Destinies, that haue béene imployed to set you at Liberty. Sir (said she) it is not I, but my Mistris you meane, by whose command I haue adven­tured to sée what was happened: to whom if you will vouchsafe to goe, I will conduct you. He could remember, it was not her Picture he had beheld, therefore he blusht to be so deceived, but told her, his comming was to doe her Lady Service. With that they entred the Garden. Constantia soone espying them, and séeing the Knight come in such peaceable sort with the Damzell, went forth to méet him, hée likewise séeing her, sheathed his Sword, his Heart trembling at the first sight of her, by a naturall inclination, bearing such a Reverend regard to her majesticall person, that when he came nigh her, he did her reverence vpon his knée, vttering these words.

Most Noble Lady, be not disquieted with feare of restrained liber­ty, for the Date of the Enchantment of thisCastle is finished. Con­stantia stepping to him, tooke him by the hand, desiring him not to knéele to her, who was vnworthy, but rather had cause to vse him, with the like reuerence. Most Noble Lady (said he) I haue all the Reward I expect: yet grant me one favor (which is) to tell me your Name. Constantiaes heart at that word leapt within her, which cau­sed an excéeding blush to possesse her chéekes, saying: Most Honou­rable Knight, I were too blame to deny you so small a Request, my [Page] Name is Constantia. Then haue the Heavens (quoth he) made mée Fortunate with beholding you, whom my heart hath ever honoured. Constantia wondred what he should be, assuring her selfe it was not Persicles, for he would not haue asked her name, yet she thought that Sorrow might so much haue altered her in the long time of her sepa­ration, that on the suddain he could not know her, that her heart was much troubled with those thoughts, till he interrupted them with these spéeches. Lady, it may be you suppose me for other then I am, to rid you of which ambiguity, my name is now Knight of the Oracle, which I haue but lately béene knowne by, for before I was called Montelyon, brought vp in Persia, but whether I was borne there, or who my Parents were, as yet I know not: the cause of my tra­vell into this Countrey, was in your search, in the Company of my noble Lord Persicles: who for your absence liveth in continuall griefe: Therefore I beséech you reviue your heart from care, and put your confidence in my fidelity: for I will never part from you, vntill I haue brought you to his presence. Constantiaes Heart with these words was possest with such joy, as is not to be exprest. And remem­bring that Philotheta had told her of Montelyon, she said: Most ho­noured Knight, I haue long before this heard of your Honourable friendship shown to my deare Lord Persicles, which maketh me with­out doubt resolue my whole confidence in you, which came to my hearing by the report of a Lady whom you lately succoured in this Countrey, named Philotheta. With that he fetcht a déepe sigh from the bottome of his heart, saying: Indéed I did once enjoy her presence, but whether I shall ever sée her againe, or where she is, I know not: Yet if I were not deluded, I did behold her departing out of this Castle. It may be so, said Constantia, for she was with me this day, and hath béene here this many dayes, but the Enchantresse in great hast, and by violence tooke her from my company, carrying her I know not whether, by whose kind report of your vertues, I conceiue such comfort in their assurance, that I entreat your promise of assistance, and with that shall my heart rest as void of feare, as if I were in the Court of the King my Father in Persia.

My heart, said she, rejoyceth to heare your kind spéeches, vowing to imploy my life, and all my being to be at your command. Then they departed into the Pallace, with purpose not to tarry there, but instantly to leaue the same: but comming into the outer Court, hée [Page] remembred, that he had heard the voyces of men that lay in misery his heart willing to succour them: desiring her not to be offended, if he had made [...]ome stay to release them out of Bondage, which hée might soone doe, when there was none to resist them: She willingly consented, and he in little search found the Keyes that opened the Entrance into the Prison, leaving Constantia in place of security, for that he would not trouble her Sences with the smell of the Prison: being entred he found a great number there inclosed, many of them in such poore and distressed estate, that his heart lamented to behold, so fast as he could pulling of their Fetters: at last he beheld Helyon, though to him vnknowne, whose flesh séemed to be incorporate with the Earth whereon he lay, from whence he could not rise, vntill hée was holpen: who now knew the Enchantment to be finished: re­penting himselfe of the folly he had committed: when he had set them at liberty, and they were come out into the cleare light, they with one assent yéelded him thanks, vowing themselues his perpetuall bounde [...] friends. Constantia likewise séeing them, wept with griefe, that so many should be endangered to set her at liberty. They all proffered their Service vnto her, but she desiring not to be knowne of any, in courteous sort refused the same, reposing her whole confidence in the Knight of the Oracle, who presenting according to her desire, left the Pallace, and without the Bridge found his owne Stéed grasing, in company of others that had lost their Riders: amongst them hée tooke thrée, on which he mounted Constantia and her two Damzels, hasting to travell so farre, as the dayes length would permit from the Pallace, Lodging that Night in a Village some sixe Miles di­stant from the same. The Knights that were released, séeing them departed, likewise betooke themselues to travell, except Helyon, who was so Féeble that he could not travell.

CHAP. XXIX. How the Knight of the Oracle departed with Constantia. How they arrived at Delatus Castle: and how she knew him to be her Sonne.

FOr Constantia found such courteous behaviour, and kind assistance, in the Knight, that she remained in great quiet, but noting his countenance, she perceived the same to be darkned with some misty Cloudes of dis­content, [Page] which she supposed to be for the losse of Philo [...]heta, but yet she concealed her opinion from him: wherein she jumpt right on his affirmity, for his heart was pincht with such care for her losse and safety, that it could endure no quiet. But in the Morning when they should depart, they began to consider which way they should travell, or whether they should stay to heare of Persicles there, or goe directly into Assyria. Amongst many doubts, they agréed to travell directly into Assyria, where he told Constantia they should assuredly find him, for that the time of the appointed méeting of him and the King of Armenia drew nigh: after many dayes travell they came to the place where he remembred he first saw Philotheta, and parted from Persicles, which he revealed not to Constantia, as vnwilling to make her priuy to his Loue: yet he purposed in his Iourney to visit Am­phiador, hoping to find her there, and comming to the Castle, he was welcommed thither by Delatus, that was againe restored to his Dukedome. Sir, said the Knight of the Oracle, I had thought this had béene Amphiadors Castle. Amphiador did possesse it, but indéed the right was mine, and though I haue no acquaintance with you, yet I beséech you accept such entertainment as it yéeldeth, and if not longer yet for this night, that I may know whom I have Lodged, and you have some knowledge of my affection vnto. They both no­ting with what hearty affection he spake, being weary with travell, alighted to rest themselues, being kindly welcommed by him and Al­sala. After Supper, Delatus began these Spéeches.

Worthy Knight, should I rehearse the whole circumstance of my misfortune, and Amphiadors wickednesse, I should both trouble you with the tediousnesse, and renue my owne sorrowes: onely this, he wrought meanes to depriue me of this Dukedome, and caused Pen­thrasus to Enchant me in the Desart, with purpose I should never returne: yet he favouring me, bound me there no longer then Con­stantia should remaine Inchanted in the Tower, built by Helyon Prince of Arabia, revealing vnto me many Secrets that I will hereafter discover. Not many dayes since, I found my selfe fréed from this Bondage, whereby he knew that the Enchantment was finished. The same day the Enchantresse Jla favouring Amphiador, séeing the date of her power grew to an end, came to this Castle, and with her brought Philotheta, not his, but my Daughter, decla­ring to him my release, with whom hée is fled, carrying Philotheta [Page] with them, but whether I knew not: Which I feare me will turne to her great sorrow, for his mind is so apt to cruelty and mischiefe, that he careth not to act any villany to satisfie his owne mind. I re­hearse this vnto you, though I know it concernes you not: yet to let you vnderstand that by finishing the Enchantment I was released: Which Ila knowing, gaue him knowledge of, and that is the cause of his flight: and also I intreat you to grant me one favour: That is, to let me know whether your Name be not Constantia, for my mind giveth me you are the same. I am (said she) that most vnfortunate Creature, and by this Knights noble Valour was I set at liberty, to whom am I most infinitely bound. My heart said Delatus rejoy­ceth, that I ever had cause to doe you any courtesie, and that it was my good fortune to sée you in this place, having long wished for your Releasement: not onely for mine owne good, but for that Noble King Persicles sake, who was with me in the Desart where I lived inthralled since his comming into Arabia, who with earnest resolu­tion determined to spend the date of his life in your search: From which I disswaded him; and by my directions he returned into As­syria: for the Sequell of your Releasement was revealed vnto me by Penthrasus himselfe: Which none could atchieue but your owne Sonns, which is this Noble Knight. Nay (said he) doubt not of this, for what he revealed, and I haue published is true, though it r [...]steth not in my knowledge to [...]ilate the circumstance thereof. They both wondred at his spéech [...]s, and the Knight of the Oracle said; Can I be more fortunate, or heare better Newes, or receiue any comfort that can comfort my heart more then this? O Heavens grant that my joyfull hope may not be frustrated, but that I may bée assured I am discended of such Noble Parents: Which may be true, for Cothanes often times told me that he found me vpon the top of a Mountaine, lying in swadling cloathes, and not farre from the body of a Woman, torne and dismembred by Wild Beasts, and many Iewels about me: One of which I haue ever since worne about my Necke: When Constantia saw it, she knew the fame, embracing him in her armes, and kissing him, whilest he with humble behaviour did him reverence. I should be over tedious to recite their joyes, and how much Delatus and Alsala made of them, who would not so leaue them, but promised to Travell with them into Assyria, where they were assured to méete Persicles: but in such sort that [Page] none might know them, for that yet Constantia feared her Fathers displeasure. They stayed there but that Night, and earely the next Morning betooke themselues to travell. Notwithstanding this joy the Knight of the Oracle left some sparkes of discontent which trou­bled all his Sences, and turned his quiet into disquiet, which was with remembrance of Philotheta, whose mishap pincht him to the ve­ry heart: Who likewise was not frée from the like disquiet, fearing never to sée him againe, little thinking his Name had béene changed, and as little thinking it was he that ended the Enchantment: not onely troubled with this Dispaire, but also vexed with Ilaes dealing, who hauing brought her to Amphiador, fled, and was never séene of them againe. Amphiador being alone with Philotheta, thought it not good for him to discover himselfe, least he thereby should hazard his life: but disguising himselfe and Philotheta, he left Arabia, and tra­vailed into Persia, thinking to liue there vntill his death vndescryed. And finding out an Habitation fit for that purpose, he told Philotheta what he intended, perswading her to abide with him. This troubled her very heart, fearing some greater mischiefe would follow. Which like wise according to her misdoubt, fell out: For now that he saw no meanes to recover his Dignity, nor attaine other Felicity, then to liue in obscurity, his mind being like wise much addicted to Licencious desire, began to dote on Philothetaes beauty, which burst out into a flame, and he revealed the same i [...] [...]his sort.

Philotheta (said he) if you knew what I would say, or if you could conceiue my meaning without words, I would refraine to speake: but since there is no hope for me to liue, without I attaine that I desire, I will vtter to you the depth of my good Will, and the thing that I desire so much you should know, which is, that I loue you: this I hope cannot be grievous vnto you: Neither will you I trust deny to loue me, considering how tenderly I haue alwayes regar­ded you. Should I not (said she, Loue you) I were to be accounted very ingratefull, and vnworthy to haue found you so kind, which bindeth me to yéeld you thankes. Then (said he,) Let me enjoy that Loue, for your Beauty hath pierced my heart, and nothing but the swéete thereof, can ease my torment: Here wée may liue together, voyd of disquiet, enjoying each others Loue with content, which ex­céedeth the pleasure that more dignified Honour yéeldeth▪ Philotheta at the first knew his meaning, replying with mildnesse, but her heart [Page] so much disdained to yéeld to that he desired, that she could not con­taine her selfe, but gaue him this answer. Amphiador, Doest thou thinke thy wickednesse can overmaster my Vertue? Or doest thou thinke I can like to heare thy odious Spéech, that bewrayeth the inward rancour of thy heart? or hast thou beheld such loosenesse in me, that should animate thée to this dishonourable attempt? or canst thou but conceiue an opinion that I will yéeld to thy wicked lust, which is the fruit of thy ill devising Heart? No, know that I so much abhorre thée, that I shall account the worse of my selfe to haue knowne thée, and curse my cruell destinies, that haue made me to sée thée, and ra­ther will end my life most desperately, then suffer my Sences, to conceiue one good thought of thée. Then leaue off where thou hast begun, for thou shalt rather sée me massacre my selfe, then yéeld to the least part of thy desire.

CHAP. XXX. How Amphiador, Philotheta, and Praxentia met. How the two Ladies preventing Amphiadors lust, and departed towards As­syria.

AMphiador walking alone in a solitary place, heard the wofull Lamentation of a distressed Lady, who vttered these words: What misery am I brought into mine owne doting folly, vpon that vnknowne Knight, which neither regardeth me, nor I shall never sée him againe: Fond woman that I am, thus to abandon my Fathers Court to liue in ob­scurtty, where I was renowned for vertue: For who heard the name of Praxentia, that did not adore the fame? And who was more reve­renced then my selfe that now haue brought my Honour into dis­grace? and for the loue of a stranger haue refused the loue of so migh­ty a Prince as Palian? O Persicles, thée may I curse, for by thy meanes is he thus absent, and thou hast lost him, or left him where he will never returne: Amphiador wondred much to heare her name Persicles, Palian, and Praxentia, which severall names he knew, marvelling who that should be: but séeing her silent, he drew neare to her, saying: Lady, hearing your Laments, I could not choose but pitty you: which maketh me thus bold to approach into our compa­ny, [Page] proffering my assistance to aid you in what I can. My friend (said Praxentia) against my will you are priuy to my estate, which if you doe pitty, then also succour me, for I am brought low by too much griefe, and weake for want of sustenance, Lady (quoth he) my Ha­bitation is not farre hence, whether I will bring you, where you shall not want any thing you will desire. Being come thither they found Philotheta drowned in teares, the cause whereof he well knew, but Praxentia wondred at it, containing another inward Sorrow, to sée so swéet a creature in such sadnesse. Philotheta likewise marvai­led what she was, hoping by her comfort to receiue some comfort, which might hinder his practice.

He on the other side went forth againe to meditate, leaving them together, meaning nothing lesse then to pitty either of them, but de­vising meanes to attaine both their loues, which he was fully resol­ved to enjoy, though the déed were never so wicked, and the meanes never so hainous. Praxentia having well refresht her selfe with such good food as she had received, demanded Philothetaes cause of sorrow. Aye me, said she, none so miserable as I, this Tyrant that brought you hither, is my Father in law, whose mind is so wicked that he at­tempteth to winne me to his lust, which addeth much sorrow to my heart, as I am weary of my life: my name is Philotheta, Daughter to the Duke of Ila, whom all men had thought to haue béene since dead, but he being informed of the contrary by the Enchantresse, fled, bringing me hither by force, where he intendeth to kéepe me as his Bond-slaue, but the Heavens I hope will ordaine some succour to my distresse, your helpe I cannot desire, for that I suppose your selfe in the same state I am in (that is) in distresse: to remedy which evill, you are fallen into a place, that yéeldeth no content, but rather contrarily to insnare me into more misery.

Before Praxentia could reply, Amphiador came in, entertained her with many counterfeit courtesies, comforting her with many faire Spéeches, protesting so many Services, duties, and promises, as none but one of so impudent a disposition could haue found occasion on such a suddaine to proffer: the intent of which words Praxentia as fore warned, well vnderstood, fearing some further mischiefe would follow thereon. That day she could haue no farther conference with Philotheta, for he was still in their company. That Night they thought to haue lodged together, but hée ordered the contrary, by [Page] which meanes, both that night, and for some thrée dayes after, they could find no opportunity to vtter their minds each to other. In the meane time he was never out of one of their companies, perswading Philotheta to yéeld her liking, so that he had proffered and vsing such spéeches to Praxentia, as might draw her to a good opinion of him: which when he thought he had affected: one night when Praxentia little thought of such treachery, being overwhelmed in drowsie sléep, he entred her Chamber by a secret way, and comming to her bed side perceiving her sléepe so soundly, without any more adoe, crept into the bed to her: she féeling one in the bed, was so amazed and affrigh­ted, on the sudden, that before he could embrace her, as he intended, she leapt out on the other side, and running to the doore opened the same, to whom he called, saying, I beséech you stay. I meant you no harme, by Heaven I will not offer you injury. What villain art thou, said she, that séekest my dishonour? or what wicked pretence driues thée hither at such vnseasonable time, and in such audacious sort to affright me? neither intending your dishonour, nor vnder other pre­tence then vertuous, came your poore Servant Amphiador into your presence, but onely with thankfulnesse, to make manifest vnto you my hearts true affection: therefore I beséech you shun me not, nor suspect me not, for my heart will sooner sée it selfe torne in pieces, then thinke a thought to wrong your worthinesse: would I be so madde as trust thée (said she) thou mightest well repute me for immodest, and well might I blame my selfe if I sustained wrong: therefore for this time I will leaue thée.

With that she made fast the Doore, and hasted to Philothetaes Lodging, knocking very hastily, withall calling aloud Philotheta, Philotheta, let me in, she being a sléepe, was halfe amazed with the noyse, not daring at the first or second call to open the Doore: but when she perceived it was a womans voyce, she opened the doore, which was no sooner open, but Praxentia stept in, desiring to make fast the same againe. Which done, feare made Praxentia so muse, that vntill she had reassumed her memoriall Sences to their proper vse, she could not speake a word. Whilest Philotheta with much sorrow beheld her extasie, of demanding the cause thereof: At last, she declared how Amphiador had vsed her. O most detestable Villaine, said Philotheta, will the Fates suffer him to procéed in his blindnesse and not cut him off? Or can we devise no good meanes to [Page] avoyd his intent? Lady, said Praxentia, doe but ioyne with me, and you shall soone see, that betwixt vs we will rid our selues out of his tyranny, O Lord, said Philotheta, I shall thinke my selfe the most happiest woman living, and for ever honour you, if by your counsell and helpe I may attaine this felicity. Then said Praxentia, doe but this next night by some meanes convey his Swords into my Cham­ber and there hide your selfe in secret vntill I come, in the mean time I will deale so with him this day, that he shall againe come to my Chamber, without suspect of our intent, but with méere hope to attaine my loue: where, when he is come, I will so worke with him that either wée will by cunning out reach him, or sheath the same into his Bowels. All this said Philotheta, will I constantly performe. Earely the next Morning Philotheta fetcht Praxentiaes Apparell, which when she had put on, she went downe where she knew Am­phiador was: who espying her, presently came to her, desiring her to pardon his last Nights oversight. Sir (said she) I was disquieted therwith more then I néeded, considering you meant me no violence, as you protest: but it was a great folly in you to come at so vnseaso­nable a time, and not make the party acquainted therewith. Pardon me, I humbly desire you, said he, and withall pitty me that am ensna­red in the bands of Loue to your beauty, which will be most pleasing to my sences, and preserue my life, and whatsoever you shall demand mée in recompence thereof, I will performe.

Many such spéeches he vsed, and she counterfeited many faint de­nials, which yet was intermingled with such hope, that he perceiued she would yéeld: and therefore he the more earnestly intreated, vow­ed, swore, and protested to win her consent, which at last according to her appointment, she granted, but with such conditions as furthe­red the purpose of their intended revenge. He joyfull thereof left her, and she went to Philotheta declaring every circumstance, how she had dealt with him. When Night approached, he left their com­pany, and went walking abroad, to meditate on his ensuing pleasure, thinking by that he returned, they would be parted to their severall Lodgings. In which time Philotheta conveyed into the Chamber two Swords, which was all the Weapons which was in the House, and hid her selfe closely from being séene. When he thought it time, he came to the Chamber doore, where he found Praxentia very ready to let him in, whose heart faintly trembled with feare at the sight of [Page] him, but yet she shooke it off, with as much courage as might be in a Woman. When he was entred and the doore made fast, having first embraced her with a lascivious kisse, which we patiently endu­red, void of doubt by reason of her promise, he went to Bed, whilest she stood trifling, as if she had béene most buisily vndressing her selfe. When she saw him in Bed, she came to the Bed-side, giving him a betraying Kisse, vttering these words. Amphiador (said she,) How much doe I now differ from Chastity, that must yéeld to violate the same without the holy Rites of Marriage, wherein I shall cast away my selfe, and make my Name in Oblique in the whole World, if you forsake me, of whose faith I haue no assurance? Tush (quoth he) feare not, but come to Bed, then will I make thée so faithfull a Promise, that thou shalt rest there with contented. That were (said she) to yéeld possession before, and afterwards repent. By my Soule (said he) I will dot doe so much as touch you before I be licensed by your frée consent. Then (said she,) for my better assurance let me bind your hands, and then I will without delay come to you. He accounted that request to procéed from bashfull Feare, not from pollicie: thin­king though his Hands were bound, he should be good enough for her with his Leggs, he granted it. Then she tooke a Scarfe which she had brought of purpose, and therewith bound his hands so fast, that it was impossible for them to vndoe them. Which done, Philo­theta stept forth, delivering one of the Swords to Praxentia, and hol­ding the other against his Brest, said: Now Amphiador, What hath thy lewdnesse brought thée vnto, but to misery: thinkest thou (that hadst no mercy in séeking our dishonour) shalt find Remorse in vs to worke revenge? Nay villanous Traytor (said Praxentia) should we suffer so vile a miscreant to liue, we should doe a wicked déed: for a man of thy impious condition will infect the World. Art thou so treacherous as thou carest not what Lawes thou violatest, and yet so simple to be over reacht by a silly Woman? yet know whom thou hast offended, and to whom thou wouldest haue none vio [...]ence. Know I say Traytor that my Name is Praxentia, Daugh­ter to the King of Persia, that will worke revenge vpon thée, worthy thy hainous Acte. Philotheta marvailed when she heard her Name, and he lay confounded with shame, his Coward heart fainting with such feare, that with little violence it would haue béene overcome. To make him more sure, the one of them bound his féet, whilest the other [Page] stood ready to stab him if he styrred: Which done, they withdrew themselues, consulting which way to be rid of him. Most Noble Lady (said Philotheta) your Prudence hath set vs at liberty from this Tyrant, whom (so if please you) we will leaue in this place, and not staine our Innocent hands, with shedding such impure blood. But said Praxentia, how shall we escape from hence? Easily (said she) for leaving him fast bound, there is none to pursue vs, but we may with safety travell whether it please you. When they had thus con­cluded, Praxentia came to him, vttering these Spéeches, Amphiador, we cannot as yet resolue how to worke sufficient Revenge vpon thée, therefore make no exclamation, but with patience abide our will, which will be too favourable: for if we heare thée but once open thy mouth, we will in such sort vse thée, that thou shalt wish thou hadst followed our directions. Which said, locking fast the doores they left him. Then they began to consult, what to doe, Praxentia saying; La­dy, it may be your determination is to returne into Arabia, which will be an occasion of our [...]eparation. For my purpose is to journey into Assyria, vpon an occasion that concerneth me no lesse then my life: which I shall reveale vnto you, vpon your promise of Secresie. I were not worthy to liue (said she) would I reveale your Counsell. Then did she repeat to her, her Loue to Montelyon, and how Palian crost the same, vntill his departure with Persicles, Philothetaes heart melted within her to heare that Spéech, fearing to be disappointed of her intent, and misdoubting his Constancie, being troubled with ex­treame anguish that so great a Princesse should be her Corrivall: sometimes dispairing with a conceit that Montelyon did not estéeme her according to his spéech, and her owne perswasion, but that he proffered his loue to her of a customable common courtesie, to try her, not of affection. Many other cogitations suddainly concurred in her braine, but séeing Praxentia except a Reply, without further medita­t [...]on she made this Reply. Most Noble Princesse, if you will accept of my company, I will in regard of your courtesie vndeservedly showne to me, venture my selfe with you, and doe my best to further you in attaining your desire. Praxentia was glad thereof. And with this resolution in the Morning they left that place▪ travailing towards Assyria, changing their Vpper-Garments, to Palmers-gray, the best meanes so passe without molestation.

CHAP. XXXI. How the Knight of the Oracle, Constantia, and the rest, hearing a lamentable cry, found Amphiador starved to death.

AMphiador lay all that day vpon the Bed bound, some­times perswading himselfe they meant him no harm, and againe adding doubt to that perswasion, because of Praxentia: but when it grew to be night, he mar­vailed they came not againe: then he began to sus­pect, that which was true indéed, that they were de­parted, which vexed him so much, that he would haue destroyed him­selfe if he could haue found meanes: continuing the length of that discomfortable Night, in cursing his owne Fortune and Folly, that had brought him to that misery: thinking to his greater discomfort, either to starue there without food, or to preserue his Life by eating his owne flesh, and so dye a lingring death. Some foure dayes after, Fortune so brought things to passe, that the Knight of the Oracle, Delatus, Constantia, and Alsala, with many others in their company, having lost their way, lighted on this discomfortable place, where Am­phiador lay for want of food, making such outragious lamentation, that it pierced the Eares of the Knight, who first hearing the same, set Spurs to his Stéed, entring the house, the doores whereof he found open, and drawing his Sword, he found the Chamber from whence that pittious cry procéeded, fast lockt, which he brake open, and found Amphiador in such a lamentable plight, that the Water stood in his eyes. Amphiador séeing him, cryed out to him for meat, as the thing he most wanted. What art thou, said he? My Name (quoth hée) is Amphiador, wicked Amphiador, that for my sinne endures this pu­nishment. The Knight of the Oracle presently vnbound him, and went with him downe to search for Victuals, which Amphiador soone found. By this time Delatus and the rest were entred, and Amphia­dor suddenly espying Alsala, whom he knew was so astonisht, that he fell downe dead. Farewell said the Knight of the Oracle, haddest thou dyed sooner, then should not some haue had cause to complaine of thy tyrranny. They made short tarriance in this place, for that it yéelded so little comfort, but againe travailed towards Assyria.

CHAP. XXXII. How the Emperour of Persia and Macedonia met, to conclude the peace betweene Persicles and the King of Armenia. How Persicles erected a Pavilion to entertaine all strangers. And how the Knight of the Oracle and Constantia arrived there: How Persicles disco­vered them: and of the exceeding joy was made for their safety. And how Persicles knew the Knight of the Oracle to be his owne Sonne, and was afterward married to Constantia.

THe Emperors of Persia and Macedonia, according to the Peace ratified betwixt Persicles & the King of Armenia, met at the City of Pisos, where they were received by Persicles in such honourable, bountifull, and courteous sort, as is not to be de­scribed. This City Pisos bordereth on the vtmost Confines of Assyria, not aboue a furlong distance from Armenia, on the edge whereof likewise stood the City of Lisar, rich and populous where the King of Armenia then lay: betwéene those two Cities, was so large a Valley of Plaines, that the faire prospects of both the Cities lay open to each others view: in the midst of this Valley were the Royall Tents of Persia and M [...]cedo­nia pitcht, and about them a number of Tents of gallant Knights, that came to beare them company: the Cities were both of them Fortified with Garrisons of Souldiers, to prevent all occasions of injury that might be offered on either party. The Emperour of Ma­cedonia likewise brought with him his thrée Sons. Mentus, Drurus, and Thetus, his Empresse, his faire Daughter Sabina, in whose com­pany were the choice Ladies of Macedonia. And such Troopes of va­liant Knights, that all the Valley was filled with their Tents and Pavilions. Persicles trusting to the assurance Delarus had given him of Constantiaes release, caused all the beautifull Damzels in Assyria to be brought before him electing out of them a hundred, for whom he caused most costly attires of White to be prepared and delivered to each of them. He caused also a most stately Pavilion to be erected in the view of all the rest, of such costly and curious worke, that all that beheld it admired the rare Workemanship thereof. Over the Doore of this Pauilion were these Verses written in Letters of Gold.

Persicles intent in doing this was, that whatsoever Stranger came, that had not good Provision of his owne, should there find Entertainment in Honour of Montelyon: in whose memoriall, he had built the same, as a remembrance of his Loue and Favour. His intent being to draw all strangere thither, (by whose report hoping hée might heare some Newes of his beloved Friend Montelyon: Travell within few dayes had brought the Knight of the Oracle, and his Company into Assyria, where they met with an Assyrian of whom the Knight of the Oracle, demanded whose Tents were those they beheld. He declared so much as hée knew: Where may we haue Lodging, said he? Not within a City, answered the Assy­rian, for thither are none permitted to come without examination? But in the middest among those Tents there is one Pavilion, the most beautifullest that ever Eye beheld, built in remembrance of the Noble Knight Montelyon, that fréed our Country from the Arme­nians oppression: in which place all that are strangers, and without provision of their owne haue Entertainment in his remembrance. Wilt thou direct vs thither (said he) and I will reward thée? I will (said he.) When they were come thither according to the Assyrians report, they were honourably entertained, and Lodged in such sort as themselues desired. And for that it was very late, every one depart­ed to their place of rest, remitting conference vntill the next Mor­ning.

Earely in the Morning the Knight of the Oracle, Arming him­selfe mounted his Stéed, and rode vp and downe vntill it was Noone to behold the Tents, and beautifull Scituation of those two Cities, and some Tilts & Turneys that were performed by certain Knights. Returning at Noone to conferre with Constantia his Mother about [Page] the discovery of them to Persicles. Persicles hearing that many stran­gers were in Montelyons Pavilion, that day he disguised himselfe into the habit of one of his owne men, onely to view them, and to sée whether his Servants vsed them so honourably as he intented they should. And comming into the roome where Constantia, the Knight of the Oracle, Delatus and Alsala was, at the first sight he knew Dela­tus and Montelyon, which was called the Knight of the Oracle, and viewing well Constantia, he likewise at the first sight knew her: Then did he immediately beléeue that the Knight of the Oracle had released her, which was Montelyon: which Delatus told him should be finished by his owne Sonne. These joyes concurring, fil'd vp his Sences with such delight, that he was inforced to withdraw himselfe from being discovered, which at that time he would not be. Altering his disguise againe, and without further deliberation, hée went to the King of Persiaes Tent, and finding him in a convenient place, he vttered these kind words. Most renowned King, the Friendship and helpe I haue received by your favour, without any merit of mine owne, hath made me most infinitely bound to your Excellency: yet neverthelesse, I must request one further favour at your hands, which you may with more safety grant, then deny, and thereby al­so make me and your selfe happy. My loving Friend, said he, what­soever it be, I will not deny it you. I make the more doubt (said he) because I haue heard you vow the contrary, and yet should you per­forme that vow, it would procure you much discontent. A rash vow, (said hée) may be broken, and therefore let me know your request, and it may be I will dispence therewith. My desire is, you would pardon Constantia your Daughter, and remit the offence commit­ted by her, and him that caused her to leaue the Persian Court. Why my Lord (said he) doe you know where she is? First, I beséech you grant my request, and then I will reveale vnto you all that I know. For your sake, said he, I will fréely accept her into my favour. Then I most humbly thanke you (said he) both for her and my selfe: For it was my most vnhappy selfe, that was the cause of her departure, but since that time I haue not séene her vntill this day. For going to the Pavillion, which is named by Montelyon: this day I espyed her there, in company of Montelyon, which is called Knight of the Oracle: The King of Persia rejoyced to heare that Newes, which pleased him so well, that he could not choose but reveale it to the Em­presse, [Page] who was ready to runne foorth of her Tent to sée her. The Emper [...]r and Empresse with a goodly Traine, accompanied by Persicles, who had sent for the hundred Damzels, and most of the Péeres of Assyria, to welcome Constantia, with great royalty, went to Montelyons Pavilion, the Emperour and Empresse going be­fore, and he comming after: that when their gréetings were past he might haue the more liberty to embrace Constantia. They entring the roome where Constantia was▪ conferring with Montelyon, knew her, and she them, and falling prostrate on her knées before them, whilest they welcommed her with such kindnesse▪ as if they had ne­ver conceived offence against her. Whilest they welcommed the Knight of the Oracle, Persicles embraced Constantia, each wéeping for Ioy. Oh God, said Persicles, never was I blest whilest this good happy houre, after so much sorrow, to enjoy such pleasure. Montely­ons approach brake of his Spéech, who knéeled before him. Nay my déere Friend, said Persicles, knéele not for I am not worthy to be so honoured. My Lord (said Delatus) well may he doe it, for he is your owne Sonne, which you néed not doubt of, for he fréed his Mother, which none but himselfe could haue done. More Honour, Ioy, Comfort, and Content, (said Persicles) could never haue hap­pened to any Mortall man, then doth this day to me, to find a Father, a Wife, and a Sonne, that this day knew not I had either Father, Wife, or Sonne: one so honourable and magnificent, the other so vertuous, beautifull, and loving, and the last so valiantly, vertuous, magnanimous and prudent, that all the Worlds wealth cannot coun­tervaile my Riches. And turning to the Emperour, knéeling downe with them, he said. Renowned Emperour, I beséech you accept vs thrée as your Children, and into your favor, remitting all displeasure conceived against vs. Then did the Emperour and Empresse, and Deloratus and Piera all embrace them, shedding teares of joy for this happy méeting. The Nobles welcomming the Knight of the Ora­cle, and the Lady Constantia, and such joy was made on every side as is not to be exprest. And parting from thence towards the City in great Royalty, they were welcomée [...]d thither by the Citizens, Nobles, Marchants, and Artizans, with great Royalty, where the Emperour vsed these Spéeches.

Sée here my Friends of Assyria, your Liege Lord and Sove­raign, the Son of Constantia my Daughter, and your Lord Persi­cles: [Page] How may you applaud the bounty of Heaven, providing for you such a Noble Prince: Then taking Constantia by the hand, he said: Here Persicles take my Daughter, I giue her thée, as fréely as the Heavens gaue her me, that Marriage may joyne hands, as true Loue hath vnited your Hearts many yeares since. He tooke that gift with as great joy, and in as high estimation, as if he had delivered him the whole Worlds Monarchy, saying: Most mighty Emperour, I know not how to render sufficient thankes, in that your Highnesse is plea­sed to enrich and honor me with your worthy Daughter which is the onely thing I alwayes desired: For which, I hope to shew such de­serts hereafter, as neither she shall be discontented, nor your Maje­sty repent your gentle déed.

CHAP. XXXIII. How the two Ladyes Philotheta and Praxentia, arrived at the Pavi­lion, and how Philotheta discovered to Montelyon, Praxentiaes Love to him, to make tryall if hee loved her, whom shee her selfe most entirely loved.

THe end of this dayes Ioy had brought the two Ladies Praxentia and Philotheta after long Travell vnto the City Walls, where (in their Palmers Wéeds) they heard the Newes, and saw the Triumph, where the Knight of the Oracle bare a way the prize, whom they were informed to be Montelyon, and Sonne to Per­sicles and Constantia: This Newes affected both their hearts with excéeding Ioy. Praxentia hoping to enioy his Loue, and Philotheta purposing to liue no longer, then to liue in hope to doe the like: ta­king the Entertainment of the Knight of the Oracles Pavilion, which yéelded them such security as they desired. Praxentia bethink­ing her selfe of a course to effect her desire, brake her mind to Philo­theta in these Words. Lady Philotheta, I am more beholding vnto you for vndertaking this travell for my sake, then I shall ever liue to requite: Notwithstanding, for that my passions craue pitty and your good helpe, I beséech you ayd me in this extremity, I haue made my Name and Fortunes knowne vnto you, and how it will bée in vaine for me to stay, for should I manifest my Loue, it would turne to my everlasting dishonour, I will therefore onely make my being [Page] here knowne to none but the Knight of the Oracle, which shall be done by this meanes, if you will for my sake vndertake it. In this habit you may as safely goe without being knowne, as if you had ne­ver béen séene, and finding him out, giue him knowledge of my being here, of my loue, and of the Misery I haue endured for his sake, vtte­ring the same in such forme of words, as shall best like you: this will be the meanes to bring me comfort: and if for my sake you will take this paines, I will hereafter prostrate my selfe at your féet, Philothe­ta promised her that she would doe it the next day, whatsoeuer ensu­ed thereon, as faithfully as she did desire, and if it were but to try his Constancie.

Earely in the Morning, Philotheta disguising her selfe so cun­ningly that she could by no meanes be knowne, left the Pavilion to séeke opportunity to deliver her Message: and comming to the City Gates with a premeditated excuse, if she were examined, where she found no resistance, but comming to the Pallace, she entred into the great Hall, where she stayed to sée the Royalty of the Court, vntill she espyed the Knight of the Oracle, onely attended by his Page, past by into the Garden, her Mayden féet treading chast steps after him, vntill he looking backe, espying a Palmer follow him, stayed, with courteous spéech demanding if he would speake with him. Who said: Knight of the Oracle. I haue a matter of secresie to deliver vnto you. The most vertuous, beautifull and constant Lady Praxentia, whom you well know, having ever since she saw you first, loved you, though without comfort, enduring much sorrow for your absence, regarding more her loue to you▪ then her owne Life, Parents and Country, and hath for your sake left her Pompe and dignity to liue in sorrow and misery to find you out, who remaineth now in the Pavillion, where for your sake all strangers are harbou­red, in such sorrow and anguish, as did you but behold the same, your vertuous mind could not choose but pitty her. This am I bold to vtter vnto you, not sent hither, but in pitty of her, and to doe you good, she being the onely Daughter of the mighty Emperour of Ma­cedonia. Palmer (said he) I commend thy good meaning, and wish that I could follow thy counsell, which bringeth much disquiet to my heart: I pitty her more then she doth her selfe, and could wish not to haue béene borne, rather then she should doe her selfe wrong, for my sake: shée is worthy to bée beloved, and I not the Honour [Page] she intendeth me: yet can I not without as great and greater tor­ment (then she endureth) after my affections that are already setled, where I yet reape no hope of comfort, and am kept from by many difficulties, that maketh me equall to her in sorrow. I speake not this with intent you should tell it her, for that were to make her more des­perate, if your words be true: but I feare me, you are sent by her, which if it be so, you shall doe me wrong, and her no good, therefore I pray you disswade her if you can, for a strangers counsell in such matters may prevaile much: and if you can bring me Newes that she hath revolted from this Loue, I shall thinke my selfe most happy. Sir, said the Palmer, I would returne to you againe, if I knew which way I might conveniently come to speake with you: I will be (said he) to morrow without the City about this time, hoping to heare better newes of her by thy perswasions: Then giving the Palmer a Rich Iewell for his paines, they parted, Philotheta out of the Pal­lace, and he into the Garden, meditating on that which he had heard. Philotheta by this time was returned to the Pavillion, vttering the whole summe of the conference she had with the Knight of the Ora­cle vnto Praxentia: With which she was so grieved, that Philotheta expected when she would haue yéelded vp the Ghost, fearing that she would haue run mad, which to prevent, she said. Be not so impatient, but hearken to my counsell. I haue appointed to come to him to Mor­row, at which time I will deale so effectually with him, that he shall come and speake with you. When séeing your Laments, there is no doubt but he may be wonne to consent.

This somewhat satisfied Praxentia, yet her Mind was so full of griefe and vexation, that her eyes could take no rest, with such affec­tion she expected the next Newes. Philotheta was not void of care, as she had good cause, vndertaking a matter against her selfe, yet to make assured tryall of his Constancie, she did it, but being alone, she meditated on the doubtfull issue of this attempt, which would bring her either much Ioy or Sorrow: sometimes perswading her selfe, it was her selfe he loved, that he was constant, and that no perswasions could alter him: yet she thought Praxentiaes Birth, Beau [...]y, and La­ments, might overcome him, and the rather for that he had no assu­rance of her Loue, nor ever to sée her againe. Thus did this faire La­dy torment her selfe with contrarieties of doubts, longing as much, or rather more then Praxentia, for the next Mornings spéech.

CHAP. XXXIV. Of the Treasons practised against the Knight of the Oracle.

NOw the King of Armenia séeing such a League concluded by meanes of this Marriage betwéene the Emperours of Persia, and Persicles, enuying his good, thought that he was likely to prevaile nothing against him by means thereof, called vnto him a Knight, whom he most favou­red, and had alwayes béene counselled by named Cisor, and vnto him he vttered his discontent, who presently counselled him to breake the Peace, and suddainly to surprize the City. The King liked not that counsell, but rather desired by some secret meanes either to poyson Persicles and the Knight of the Oracle: or else to set some discord be­twéene them and the Emperour of Macedonia, by which meanes the Peace might be broken, and the ambiguity of the doubt be left vnen­ded, whereby he might renew his warre, Cisor promised to performe something to that effect: who presently, finding out Palian, vttered his mind to him in these words. Noble Prince, I marvell that you suffer your glory to be darkned by this vp start Knight, that nameth himselfe of the Oracle. Can it be that so honourable a mind as yours should brooke such indignities? Is not Assyria yours by right, are you not more Noble by Birth? are you not every way as worthy to be as famous as he is? You liue here in security, suffering him and his Father that scorneth you, to carry away the Palme and prize of Honour Are all the Knights in Armenia too weake to cope with him? Doth not his behaviour shew that he scorneth you? Hath he not a­lone crost your good Fortune, then liue not to be laught at, but to re­venge. Ioyne you with the Emperour of Macedoniaes Sonnes, who are of the same mind I am, and I will lay you downe such a plot as shall abate his bravery. If these K [...]ights and such as are now come out of M [...]cedonia and Persia, cannot foyle them, then shall you liue in contem [...] of the World, and be accounted their inferiour. Cisor (said hee) thou renuest my griefe a fresh, for I haue drunke so much of sorrow in that kind of discontentm [...]nt, that my heart is overcome therewith, and would faine worke my releasement. If you would bée secret, and sweare to assist me. I would reveale you the whole depth of my heart: vpon his protestations, hée revealed his loue to [Page] Praxentia, and how he was crost by Montelyon, and withall, what had past since, and of her escape out of Persia, which she did onely for his loue that regarded her not, and how much he desired meanes of re­venge: his mind being apt to entertaine any complot were it never so dishonourable, Cisor then said, conferre with the Emperors So [...]s, and discover to them with what earnestnesse Praxentia hath sought his loue, and receiving scorne for her affection, and disdaine for her goodwill, hath in a desperate sort (ashamed to be so rejected) stole from the Court of the King of Persia, either to destroy himselfe, or wilfully to liue in perpetuall exile: when they heare this, their hearts will easily be wonne to revenge her wrong: which done, let them a­lone to meditate thereon. Cisor having in this sort whetted him on, left him, which so much prevailed, that he put the same in practice with the Emperors Sonnes, that they began mortally to hate Mon­telyon. Agréeing to arme themselues in such Armour as none but Ci­sor should know them, and for some few dayes to lodge in the Pavi­lion, and there to devise which way to worke him some disgrace. Vp­on this conclusion they parted, every one to provide themselues of Armour for that purpose.

CHAP. XXXV. How the Knight of the Oracle, arrived at the Pavilion, disguised to satisfie Praxentia. How he was discovered by Palian, how Palian and the King of Macedoniaes Sonnes would have murdered him. How he slew one of them, and was accused by Praxentia of a Rape, which brake the concluded League.

THe time being come, and Philotheta not failing, met the Knight of the Oracle to doe her Message. How now Palmer said he, doest thou bring me newes that Praxentia hath given over her loue? If thou hast tell me, if not, I pray thée trouble me not. My Lord (said Philotheta) she rageth most extreamely, and I feare me, will doe her selfe some violence vnlesse you pitty her. That cannot I doe (said he) although it pincheth my heart to heare of her sorrow: what should I say more? or what wouldest thou wish me to do, to ease her and yet reserue my loyalty? Sir, replyed Philotheta, may you consider that she is honourable, vertuous, faire, and the Daughter of [Page] a King worthy to be beloved, and it may be the Lady whom you loue, is not comparable to her in any of these gifts: No, nor in loue, which may peradventure loue another, and then shall you wrong your selfe and injury her, expecting that which you haue no assurance of.

Peace Palmer quoth he, if my fortunes proue so bad, the greater will be my misery: therefore tell me what thou wouldst haue me doe: my Lord (said she) had I not promised her to bring you to speak with her, she would haue destroyed her selfe ere this: therefore vouchsafe mée such favour, that I may performe my word, which may be a meanes to end this malady. Didst thou know (quoth he) how vnwilling I am to doe it, I thinke thou wouldst not request it: but to satisfie her of that, which peradventure she will not credit by thy report, and at thy request, I will come to her this evening. Till then farewell quoth he. Philotheta being parted from him, by the way vttered these spéeches. O that fortune would favour me so much, and blesse me with that felicity, to be the party this worthy Knight so constantly loveth. By this she was come to the Pavilion, where even then there en­tred foure Knights in black Armour, gallantly mounted, by their out­ward habit portended some fatall stratagem: which were Palian and the thrée Sons of the King of Macedon, who had vowed either secretly or openly to plot the death of Montelyon: taking vp their Lodging there to complot their treason. The day being past, which the Knight of the Oracle overpast in many solitary meditations, to the great griefe of Persicles and Constantia, who wondred thereat he went to his Chamber, apparelling himselfe in the habit of one of the Kings Servants, onely gyrding his Sword to his side, went vnto the Pavi­lion, concealing himselfe as closely as he could, but the Heavens ordai­ning him to endure some misery, and as the eyes of enuy and suspition, discovering him to Palian, who espyed his comming thither, and being entred the Pavilion, he was met by Philotheta, who with such carefulnesse expected his comming, conducting him into the place, where Praxentia was, which went so sore against her heart to doe, that with very griefe she was ready to dye: whither treacherous Palians eyes watcht him. Praxentia espying him, could not abstaine from blushing excéedingly, her owne heart accusing her of immo­desty, to reveale that which we would haue concealed. Hée saluted her, vttering these words. Most noble Princesse, to fulf [...]ll your [Page] desire, and shew my gratitude vnto you for your Friendship be­stowed on him that is not worthy thereof. I am come to you desiring you not to misconceiue of me, nor condemne me of inhumanity, that am not mine owne, and therefore I cannot giue my selfe vnto you. I haue vttered vnto the Palmer that which I will now conceale as loath to offend you, yet constrained thereto, desiring you to command my life, if you please, for that shall be at your disposition otherwise I cannot imploy my selfe to your liking. I haue long since knowne of your good will to me, which Palian by his subtilty increased, of whose Loue and procéedings I know so much that I thinke: I shall wrong him to fulfill your request: my selfe was the man that should haue joyned your hands, when he tooke my habit and name vpon him which I presume here to vtter, that thereby you may remember my inno­cencie in that complot, and how constantly I haue vowed my selfe to another.

Praxentia what with anger, shame, and griefe, stood like one mute, vexed that he knew of Palians act, shame to make loue contrary to the propertie of her kind, and grieved to be disappointed: all which to­gether not suffering her to speake, vntill at last these passions, and her burning Loue so overcame her, that knéeling downe, she said.

Good Knight blame me not, nor doe not condemne me of immode­sty, but grant pitty to my torment. He taking her vp, desired her not to knéele to him that was not worthie thereof, nor able to deserue it: then taking him by the hand, she desired him to sit downe by her up­on the bed, beckning Philotheta to depart the roome.

To repeat what manner of behaviour Praxentia vsed, and the words he spake, would haue made any modest eare to blush to heare of: but séeing that nothing could prevaile, rage and lust so over ruled her, that in bitter exclaimes she cryed out: Inhumane, disloyall, and dishonourable Knight, doest thou require my Loue with this disdain? Or thinkest thou I will liue to beare the blot of thy refusall? At the conclusion of which words, Thetus entred the roome, and with his Sword drawne, ran at him, who by good Fortune beholding him, started aside, otherwise he had béene slaine yet he was sore woun­ded, wherewith he drew his sword, striking at Thetus, and at every blow wounding him. Philotheta hearing the noyse, came in and séeing the Knight of the Oracle wounded, with feare, grief, and amazement cryed out, helpe, helpe, the Kings Son [...]ill be murdered. The Eccho [Page] o [...] her shrill voice sounded throughout the whole Pavilion, and both the Servants and other Knights came running thither, but before they came, he had gotten Thetus, and overthrowne him, thrust his Sword into his Bodie. By this time Palian and his two Brethren came in, who séeing Thetus slaine cryed out: Stay the Traytor, he hath murthered Thetus, Son to the King of Macedonia. Praxentia hea­ring that, tore her haire, rent her Garments, and disfigured her face in such fort as was Lamentable to behold. Some began to lay hands on the Knight of the Oracle, but his Fathers Servants knowing him stood in his defence: Then began there a hote Combat on both parts, and many were slaine. Praxentia being now discovered, was knowne to Palian and her two Brethren, to whom she cryed; Re­venge my shame, and my Brothers death on this wicked Knight, who séeketh by violence to dishonour me, hath slaine my Brother? What griefe was this to Philotheta you may judge: and how much it vexed him to be thus betrayed, cannot be vttered: standing in his owne defence, against such as would haue apprehended him, that knew him not, vntill he was grievously wounded, and many of them slaine, in which time newes thereof was come to the hearing of Per­sicles, the Emperour of Persia, and the King of Macedonia, who with all hast came thitherwards: The Souldiers like wise hearing of the Knight of the Oracles distresse, brake the conditions of the concluded Peace, and by Multitudes ran forth of the Citie to preserue them. Persicles first entred the Tent, next him the Kings of Persia and Macedonia, giving commandement vpon paine of Death, that no man should strike a blow. Yet notwithstanding, rashnesse and heady force so overcame them, that it was long before they were appeased. And the Emperour séeing Praxentia there, in such sort disfigured, deman­ded if any could tell the cause of that mischiefe: First Praxentia spake being most guilty, yet first thinking to excuse her selfe: Noble Em­perour, my brother you sée is slaine in rescuing me from that Knights violence. The Knight of the Oracle knéeling downe before the Em­perour, said: My noble Grand father, I slew him in mine owne de­fence▪ neither did I know what he wa [...] being my selfe trained hither to my death. More he would haue said, but the Souldiers having entred the Pavilion, r [...]sted not vntill they had gotten vnto him, and he to satisfie them, and avoid further mischiefe, departed with them to the City. Then did the Emperour and Persicles comfort the [Page] King of Macedonia, but he vexed with his Sonnes death, and his Daughters disgrace, and vrged by his others Sonnes importunacy, said: Emperour of Persia, I am now much wronged, and too much a­bused by thée and thy Progenie, by whose falsehood I sée my Children lye dead before my face: How should I then be contented? By Hea­ven I sweare, I will revenge this villany. King of Macedonia (said Persicles) I defie thée, for accusing me or mine of any dishonour, and thou shalt sée and find this Accusation is false; why else are thy Sonnes here disguised, with my enemy Palian? by whose complot this mischiefe, was pretended against my Sonne, though the punish­ment lighted vpon themselues.

CHAP. XXXVI. Of the griefe Philotheta endured for this misfortune. How she was taken, and carried to the Armenian Hoste. Of Raleaes misfortune: And the Message she delivered to the Knight of the Oracle.

PHilotheta séeing how vnfortunately all things fell out▪ withdrew her selfe out of sight, and in bitter exclaimes lamented her hard fortune, but most of all that she was the cause of Montelyons com­ming thither, which had so néere endangered his life. Therefore she shrowded her selfe vntill it was night, which being come, she travelled fur­ther into the Country, and there by selling a Iewell, and good fortune, not being discryed, she altered her old habit into her right forme, stay­ing certaine dayes in a Village, some sixe miles distant from the City of Pisos, in the house of an ancient Lady named Ralea, to whom she related her misfortunes, procured by Amphiador, concealing her Loue to Montelyon, which she durst not commit to her serresie. This Ralea being a woman of great wisedome, vsed Philotheta wondrous kindly, promising in words, and her déeds shewing it, that if shée would stay with her, shée would as dearely tender her, as her owne Daughter, whom she caused continually to accompany Philotheta. She rejoyced at this good Fortune, and being alone she vttered these spéeches. Praxentia, thée onely may I accuse for this misery, for whom I vndertooke a taske, which my heart even then abhorred, and now repent, not so much inte [...]nding to procure thée that thou [Page] desiredst, as to satisfie my owne disquiet Sences, by the same means having drawne the most loyall Knight into danger of his life, whose blood thou didst séeke to spill, else wouldst thou not so dishonourable and fasly haue accused him. The consideration of which stratageme, drew such a flood of teares from her eyes, that she could not stop their passage. Which Ralea espying, demanded the cause thereof, but séeing Philotheta make no reply, she said, Philotheta, I pitty your estate, and would gladly know the cause, that I might vse my indeavour to com­fort you, Philotheta trusting to vertue, disclosed to her the loue he bare to Montelyon, and all that passed betwixt her and Praxentia, as is before rehearsed. Ralea thereby noting her beauty, commended the same: promising her, that if with patience she would quiet her selfe some few dayes, she would vse all meanes possible to comfort her.

Montelyon having recovered his wounds, gathered together a mighty host, and brought them vnto the City of Pisos, whither were assembled the choice Souldiers, Noblemen, Knights, and Gen­tlemen of Persia, to fight in their Emperours behalfe, who entrencht themselues without the City. The King of Macedonia and Armenia likewise had gathered togethe [...] so mighty an Army, as might haue béene thought able to make a Conquest of the World, who pitched their Tents about the City in Armenia, where [...]he King of Macedo­nia and Armenia lay, Montelyons heart was fixed with desire to driue backe those foes, not staying to giue them leaue to make the first challenge, but humbling himselfe vpon his knée, before the Empe­rour and his Father, vttered these spéeches. Most mighty Empe­rour, and my Noble Father, I haue already I hope satisfied you of my innocency, being trained by some subtilty to my intended death, by Praxentia and her brethren: but for that mine honour hath béene blemished by that infamous accusation, and the common people rest vnsatisfied, and my Foes vnrevenged, I humbly craue you li­cence, that I may send destance to my false accusers, and by challenge acquite my selfe, which am constrained thus hastily to desire, for that my heart will abide extreame torture vntill it be finished. The Emperour rejoycing at his forwardnesse, and séeing Persicles wil­ling to haue it so, gaue his consent. Which done, Montelyon left them, and arming himselfe in an Armour of white, which he had caused to be made of purpose, that no man should know him, rode into the [Page] field betwixt both Campes, and by a Herald sent deffence into the Campe of the Armenians King of Armenia, the [...]e is a Knight whom you may behold in the field, that hath sent d [...]stance to all the Knights in this Army, especially to Palian, whom he accuseth to bée a most disloyall and dishonourable Knight, not worthy to be named a Knight, that he most falsly sought to betray Montelyons Life, and withall he offereth by combate to proue against all Knights, that Montelyon is a Knight both Honourable and vertuous, and that Praxentiaes accusation is most false and vntrue. This message was no sooner delivered, but thousands of Knights made sute to combat him first: but Palian to whom it principally belonged, to defend his owne honour, desired his Fathers consent, and obtained it, pre­sently Arming himselfe, and gallantly mounted, rode into the field, to him.

Montelyon desirous of revenge, and his heart inwardly tormen­ted with griefe, met Palian with a furious encounter, he answering him with the like breaking their Lances with great comelinesse: then drawing their Swords, began the combat, which was soone en­ded for within few blowes, Montelyons Sword burst, that hee was enforced to close with Palian, with such force wrinking his Sword from him, and with the pu [...]mell thereof striking him so violently on the head, that he bruised his head, and overthrew him, every one thin­king he had béene dead. Which was no sooner done, but Mensus el­dest Son to the King of Macedonia, being ready armed, greeted Mon­telyon with these words. Knight, thou hast vndertaken a tedious taske to combate all the Knights in this Campe, yet I hope thou shalt never doe that, for my selfe will abate thy courage. If they were as many more quoth Montelyon, I [...]eare not all: if thou commest to combat me hold thy tongue, and be stirre thy hands, for I will haue about wit [...] thée. With that they gaue each other many cru [...]ll blowes and received some wounds, till Montelyon againe overe arging his Sword with his vnmeasurable strength, brake the same, which so vexed him, that he rusht vpon Me [...]sus to haue closed but he know­ing his intent, avoided him, and before he could turne about, gaue him some blo [...]es which pierced so his Armour and flesh, the bloud ranne downe. Montelyon hauing the hilt of his broken Sword still in his hand, flung the same with such violence, that lighting short on Mensus Horse head, strook [...] him downe dead, his master having much [Page] adoe to get from him without harme: whilest Mensus was mounting himselfe on a fresh Stéed, Montelyons Squire had brought him the Sword that was given him by the Hesperian Nymphes, which when he grasped, he said: Had I armed my selfe with thée, my Foes had felt some smart, and my selfe lesse disgrace. Méeting againe, such cruell blowes were dealt, that their Armour was mangled and the bloud appeared in many places, but Montelyon charged his Foe so hard, that in short space he got the vantage, and wounded Mensus so sore, that had he not béene rescued he had either dyed or béene forced to yéeld: that Montelyon returned with Victory, to the great rejoycing of the Assyrians, especially of the Emperour and Persi­cles.

Ralea th [...]t day left her house, according to her promise to Philo­theta, to try whether Montelyon did affect her or no, comming to the Court at such time as Montelyon was newly affirmed, and had his few wounds drest, a Messenger giving him knowledge of her com­ming. Being come to him, and all avoided the Chamber, she said: No­ble Prince, I come to bring you newes, that not many dayes since, there hapned to come to my house a Lady in disguise of a Palmer, desiring that I would for certaine dayes entertaine her, vntill the Warres were ended, for that she had a message to deliver vnto you from a Lady in Arabia, named Philotheta, which she thought good to conceale for a time, vntill you had better leasure to heare it, and to performe that which she requested. Notwithstanding, for that I ho­nour you aboue all men, and would shew my duty to you in any re­spect, I haue adventured to giue you knowledge thereof without her knowledge, being ready to bring her vnto you at any time, if you please to heare the same. Montelyons heart was excéedingly com­forted to heare Philotheta named, much more that she had sent to sée him, and most of all what the message should be, how she could tell where he was, or how she could remember him, that had never but once séene him: sitting in a déepe and silent meditation, but before he had ended the same, a Messenger and Servant of Raleaes entred, vttering these words. Madame, since you departed much sorrow hath befalne vs, for certaine Companies of the Armenian Hoste haue ran­sackt your house, stole your Cattell, carryed away the Lady, and con­sumed all your goods with fire. Ralia with that fell downe in a deadly Trance, and being recovered, vttered these Words. My Noble Lord [Page] (said he) that Lady is the most beautifull Philotheta, that hath long honoured you with a constant Loue, it was she that in the disguise of a Palmer came as a Messenger to you from Praxentia, who was guiltlesse of that intended practise, her Modesty with-holding her from vttering what she was, and vndertaking that for Praxentia, to make tryall of your vertue, and which way your affections were bent. Redéeme her my Lord, if it be possible, for she is the most vertuous Lady living: these words ended, she dyed, which were sufficient to set Montelyons heart on fire, being ready to arme himselfe, but Ra­leaes Servant séeing it, told him it was too late to pursue them, for by that time they were in the Hoast.

CHAP. XXXVII. How the King of Armenia sent Philothetaes Picture on Del [...]urno Emperour of Almaigne, who promised to ayde him against Persi­cles. Of divers Combats that Delfurno maintained in defence of her beauty.

PHilotheta being now in the Armenian Hoast, by reason of her excéeding beauty, was presently carryed by the Captaine to the Tent to the King of Macedonia, who no sooner saw her, but he pre­sently thought her a present fit for the greatest Potentate in the World, and withall fearing their Forces were too weake or the puissant, Army of their Foes, consulted with the King of Armenia about it and at last concluded to send Ambassadours vnto Almaigne vnto Del­furno, that then newly succéeded his Father in the Empire, being a Prince of great valour: which Embassage was committed to two Noblemen, one of Armenia, the other of Macedonia. The Contents whereof was to treat with him of ayd, and withall to proffer him that Lady, whose Picture they carryed with them, being drawne by an excéeding cunning workeman. The Embassadors departed, and be­ing arrived, were admitted to Delfurnoes presence, one of them vtte­ring their Message in these words.

Most renowned Emperour, the Kings of Armenia and Macedonia, send friendly gréetings to your Highnesse, desiring your ayd against their mighty Foes, the King of Assyria and Persia, who are now ioy­ned together with oppression, and vniust warre to offer them iniury [Page] the Sonne of Persicles, having in most dishonourable sort deflowred Praxentia, and slew Thetus her Brother, séeking her rescue: Besides, my Lords, having nothing of more worth then a most beautifull and vertuous Lady, who surpasseth all the Ladies that euer eye beheld, present her vnto you, as being fit for none, but a man of such honour and dignity as your selfe: whose counterfeit imperfectly drawne, we present vnto your Highnesse, desiring your assistance to the ayd of vertue, and suppressing of wrong, which agréeth with you magnani­mity. Delfurno hearing of these spéeches, and viewing the Picture well, for a while stood in a study. At last he made them answer thus. I know not vpon what ground I should warre against Assyria and Persia, that never did me wrong, yet I would willingly assist your Lords, not drawne thereunto by this present, that I estéeme not, but for the Loue I beare them, and to punish such dishonour as their Foe hath showne: Therefore returne your Lords this an­swere, that within thrée Moneths I will be in Armenia, and bring with me such a power as shall vanquish their Foes, and set them in peaceable possession of their rights. The Embassadors after they were honourably entertained, and sumptuously feasted, departed with this joyfull newes, which added both comfort and resolution to the Armenian Hoast.

Delfurno being alone, commanded the Picture to be brought into his Chamber, which he viewed and reviewed, beholding the counterfeit with such a surfeiting eye, that he began to affect the ab­sent Lady, by beholding her present Picture. Afterwards calling before him the ancientest Captaines and Commanders that were imployed in his Fathers Warres, hée commanded them to Muster an Army of forty thousand strong, of the best Souldiers in his Em­pire, and with all spéed to conduct them to the Hoast in Armenia, nei­ther staying his comming, nor expecting other command from him for he would be there before them. This done, he cau [...]ed a most rich and costly Armour to be wrought of excéeding strength wherewith he armed himselfe, causing a Squire that attended him to cover the Picture with a rich Vaile: he departed vnknowne of any, with this intent, by Combat to make all Knights he met, to confesse his La­dies beauty surpassed all others, vntill he came into Armenia, where he determined to challenge all Knights whatsoever in that behalfe. Where being vnknowne, and carrying the Picture covered, he ar­rived, [Page] sending his Squire with this Message vnto the Generall.

Noble Generall, my Master being a Knight of a strange Coun­trey, having travailed many Miles in search of Adventures, happe­ning to arrive neare the Hoast, being neither Foe to this Country, nor Friend to Persicles, desireth that with your favour he may make tryall of his valour against the Knights of this Campe, which he will vndertake in defence of his Ladies vertue, beauty and worthinesse, whom he will maintaine in single Combat against all commers, to excéed all others. The King returned this answer. Tell thy Master, he is welcome, and shall haue our frée consent so that he requireth: but withall let him take his friendly warning from me, that he be­ware what he vndertake, left the valour of these Knights turne him to repentance. The Squire returned with this answer to his Ma­ster, who presently hung the vayled Picture vpon the body of a faire spreading Dake, himselfe resting thereby as a Guardiant, and ready to combate him that came next.

The Knights of Armenia and Macedonia hearing of this strange Knights braue Challenge, prepared to joust with him, and the first was a young Knight of Armenia, named Tellutus, who loved Brisa, Daughter to the Duke of Linsus, who supposed her beauty by reason of his entyre loue, to excell all, but his Fortune was crost, and he at the second course overthrowne.

The second that Iusted was Arnon, a Knight of Macedonia, that maintained thrée courses against him with great agility, but at the fourth he was vnhorsed. Divers other Knights Iousted him▪ and had the like Fortune, and his valour bare away the Prize from the mall.

CHAP. XXXVIII. How the Knight of the Oracle leaving his Parents in disguise, was entertained by the King of Armenia.

NOw it fell out that Montelyon having heard of the Dam­zels carrying away from Raleaes house by the Enemy, which little thought it had béene Philotheta, studied how to redéeme her: first he thought it best to be at­tempted by force of Warre, but that course séemed too tedious: then he be thought himselfe of some spéedier meane, for long delay would pinch his heart. These contrarious thoughts driving him to his wits [Page] end: When he had long studyed and yet could resolue of nothing, he mounted his Stéed, and in an Armour vnknowne, girding the good Sword he loved so well to his side, he rode forth at a Posterne gate so secretly as he could, not as yet resolved what to doe, riding towards the Armenian Host, but a contrary way, as if he had not come from the Assyrian Campe: being come to the Watch, they apprehended him, and he yéelded, desiring to be carryed to their Generall, where being come, the Generall demanded of whence he was: I am (quoth he) of Arabia, having travailed many yeares in search of strange ad­ventures▪ What is your name Sir, quoth he, my name is Honorius. Will you (quoth he) serue me against my Foe the Assyrian? I will (said he) if your quarrell be just, serue you faithfully, and spend my life to punish disloyalty. With that the Generall repeated the History betwéene him and Persicles, shewing the Title and claime he had to the Assyrian Crowne, and amongst many other falshoods, accusing Montelyon for Praxentiaes rape, and Thetus death. This vexed Mon­telyon excéedingly, hoping one day to worke revenge for all, vsing such behaviour and spéech as was most fit for the time, so that he was well entertained of the Generall, and granted such priviledge as the rest of the Knights had, being neither knowne, nor once suspected to be the man he was.

CHAP. XXXIX. How Delfurno arrived at the Armenian Hoast.

THe next day the Almaine Forces arrived in Ar­menia, and assuring himselfe that Delfurno would not be long behind, caused Philotheta to be adorned with most costly and rich Roabes, and to be well attended by a gallant traine of faire Damzels, which he did to, please and delight him with her beauty. Philotheta supposed his intent in doing her so much honour, had béen either that he pretended loue to her himselfe, or did it in the behalfe of Palian, which besides the aboundant cares that possest her heart, bred a fresh disquiet in her, resolving not to loue any but Montelyon. The same day Delfurno like wise, seeing no more would Combat him▪ cam [...] to the Court, and discovered himselfe to the King of Armenia and Macedonia, yet desiring to conceale the same, who with great honour and courtesie entertained him: and the [Page] more to please him, conducting her to the Pallace, where the Quéene of Macedonia and Armenia were, accompanied by Praxentia, but all in mournfull wéedes: and Philotheta glistering in gold, dazeling the eyes of the beholders. Which when Delfurno beheld, at the first view his heart was attainted with loving admiration, even then vowing his heart her thrall, and of that sudden becomming so bounden a sub­ject to Loue, as his Heart, Hands, Eyes, and every Member, were devoted to her Service. After salutations to all the rest, (who yet knew him not) forgetting longer to conceale himselfe, he came to Philotheta, saluting her with these spéeches: Lady blame me not for vndertaking to be the Champion of your Beauty: I am the Knight that haue these many dayes held Combat against all Knights in your behalfe, not having discovered to any your Name, as fearing thereby to offend you: the originall of my attempt, being the earnest zeale and loue I beare to you. Sir, replyed she, your labour was greater then your reward, and more then you [...]éeded to haue vndertaken, and little pleaseth me: therefore I pray leaue off to doe so, and then I shall thinke my selfe more beholden to you, the subject not answering the Protestation.

Delfurno was nipt with her reply, and so much ravished to heare her Heavenly voyce, that he was to séeke of a reply, standing so long in déepe study, that she returned from him, and he started as asha­med of that oversight▪ comming to the Kings of Armenia and Ma­cedonia, to whom he said: This Ladies beauty surpasseth all that ever I beheld, I pray tell me of whence she is? Her name quoth Ar­menia, is Philotheta, Daughter to a Duke in Arabia, whom if it please your Highnesse to accept of, she I know will yéeld to any ho­nourable request. I like her well indéed quoth Delfurno, and doe me that favour I may enioy her, and I will bind my selfe your everla­sting Friend. Many other spéeches past betwixt them, both of them promising to effect his desire with spéed, especially the King of Ar­menia, who presently left him, and finding her out, he vttered these spéeches to her. Faire Lady, such happinesse may be fall you at this instant, if you will be ruled by my counsell, which if you refuse this, and liue many thousand yeares after you shall never light on the like, for the Mightiest Emperour in the world séeketh your Loue with honourable resolution to make you his Wife, and renowne you with the Title of Empresse: this Knight that even now offered his ser­vice [Page] to you is he, the Emperour of Almaigne, named Delfurno, that hearing of your beauty, came purposely into this Country to behold you, and doe you service.

Philotheta hearing so old a man become so earnest a Soliciter, be­ing neither pleased with his company nor counsell, gaue him this short answere. Your proffers are as great as liberall: yet neither pleasing nor acceptable to me, for I liue in this place by constraint, not by consent, by which meanes my mind can thinke on nothing, but to be released from hence, desiring to liue in another place.

CHAP. XL. How the Knight of the Oracle knew Philotheta, and how she was by the King of Armenia committed to his charge.

ALl this while Montelyon stayed below among other Knights in the Hall, at such time as Philotheta, came to goe into the Garden, with a gallant traine of Dam­zels attending her.

Montelyon noting her well, suddenly remembring he had séen her, felt such a Passion oppresse his heart, that he thought it melted within him: When she was past, he demanded what Lady that was, that was so gallantly attended? Her name (quoth one) is Philotheta, Daughter to a Duke in Arabia, that was so lately surpri­sed in Assyria, and brought thither with intent to be married to Del­furno the Emperor. Montelyon hearing that, held his peace, getting from the company into a solitary place, where being alone, he vt­tered these Meditations. And can it be that Philotheta was in Assyria, in her owne person, and an others name to bring a Message to me? That néed I not doubt of, for Raleaes spéeches confirmed it: but may it not be that she sent some other? that cannot be, for they tell me she was surprized in Assyria. Moreover Ralea told me, that she came in the Disguise of a Palmer, which Palmer I am assured was even the very same that trained me to Praxentiaes presence, Whom I now presently remember, had the selfe-same countenance of Philotheta, which made me affect him so much. These remem­brances, may be assurances that she rather hateth then loveth mée, for otherwise I cannot be perswaded, and then the taske I haue vndertaken over tedious: for it will be in vaine to séeke her loue that [Page] regardeth me not. Besides, did she loue me, yet having thrust my selfe amongst such a multitude of mine Enemies, that if they knew mée would end my life: it is impossible for me to make my Loue knowne to her, yea, or so much as to speake to her: What hope is there then left for me, but to Despaire, or returne to my Parents, séeke to win her possession by force of Armes.

Whilest he yet continued in these Meditations he espyed the King of Armenia comming towards him, to whom he vsed great Reverence. The King suddainly séeing him, as soone remembred he told him he was of Arabia, which made him vtter these spéeches. Well met Ho­norius, I thinke thou toldest me thou wert of Arabia, and therefore it commeth in my mind, that thou art the onely man may'st pleasure me if thou wilt vndertake for me, being a matter of small labour, but much importance: Which if thou wilt but vndertake, and with se­crecy conceale, thy reward shall be so great as thy heart can wish. My Lord (quoth he) whatsoeuer it be, I will vndertake it, doing my vttermost indeavour therein, with such secrecy and diligence, as you shall like of. I doe both trust and beléeue thée (said he) for in thy face I sée the sparkes of Honour: therefore this it is. There is in my Court a Lady of thy Countrey, named Philotheta, whom I had thought to haue matched with the Emperour Delfurno, but now my Mind is altered, and I purpose to enjoy her my selfe: and for that thou art her Countrey-man, I thinke thou mayst prevaile more to perswade her then any other: therefore I haue chosen thée as my Friend, yea my deare Friend to sollicite my sute vnto her: But thou must not be knowne but that thou doest onely speake in the behalfe of Delfurno: for so will I tell him. This is that I would haue thée performe: therefore tell me, art thou resolved to doe it? Were the Taske farre greater, I would vndertake it, but in this I thinke my selfe excéedingly honoured by your Highnesse, hoping to pr [...]vaile so much, that you shall attained your desire. Then come with me (quoth he.) Then did he bring him to Philothetaes Lodging, whether she was newly returning, and vttered these spéeches to her. Lady, for that you are a stranger, sollitary, and vnacquainted with the Armeni­ans guise, I haue brought this Knight not to be your Gaurdiant, for I make you no Prisoner, but to accompany you, and defend you if any should offer you wrong, whom I hope you will accept of. Philotheta liked his proffer well, hoping he would proue a meanes for her to [Page] scape by, accepted his proffer with hearty thankes.

CHAP. XLI. Of the first Conference betwixt Philotheta and the Knight of the Oracle.

MOntelyon being alone with the Lady he had so long desired to sée, and being now her Kéeper that she so dearly loved, thought himselfe most fortunate, doing humble reverence to Philotheta: Who demanded his name. My name (said he) is Honorius. Then did she demand whose Son he was? for which he had not an answer ready, but stood silent, not caring to be taken in a lye, for that he was vnwilling to maintaine a lye. Philotheta séeing that, said, I perceiue I shall haue small comfort by thy company, for I sée you are not of Arabia. Lady (said he) whatsoever I am, I rest wholly to doe whatsoeuer you shall command me. Then should you not (quoth she) please him that brought you to me, for his mind and mine are quite contrary, else would he not haue trusted you. Admit I did quoth hée, yet having no intent to doe it, but thereby to enjoy your pre­sence, your haue no cause to suspect me. Yet I thinke you are deceived in his intent, for none but my selfe knoweth it, which I care not to reveale to you, if you will conceale it from him, for I came hither to doe you pleasure, not to further him. Tell it me (quoth she) and I pro­mise you I will conceale it. Thus it is, whereas he with great ear­nestnesse hath sued vnto you in the behalfe of Delfurno, he hath appointed me to be a more earnest solicitor in his behalfe: for that he himselfe is déepely in loue with you, but he intendeth that Delfurno shall thinke I am onely imployed to pleasure him. Which when hée imparted vnto me, and willingly vndertooke, not to doe it, but to doe you all the humble service and duty that I can being neither of this Court, nor of Arabia, but a Knight of Assyria, that haue vowed never to leaue searching vntill I had found you: the occasion whereof was this. Vpon a day walking in a Groue, adjoy [...]ing to the Pallace Garden, I heard a Knight whom afterwards I well knew, making much lamentation for your absence that nothing but newes of your safety could ease his heart. I disclosed my selfe vnto him, and for the loue that I bare him, vowed to travell in your search, first arriving in [Page] this Court, where to my excéeding Ioy I haue found you, with all humility, faith, and constancy, proffering you my service, being ready to vndertake any Taske, and vndergoe any perill to doe you service, I know not how to trust thée (quoth she) considering thou regardest not to breake thy Word to the King of Armenia, therefore I feare thou wilt do the like to me: yet if faire words may deceiue me I shall be deceived in thine I would trust thée but I cannot, and yet blame me not, for having found no friendship nor truth in many, I know not how to trust any. My Fortune was ever yet adverse, and therfore I am without hope of better: then leaue me for this time, and if you can find in your heart to be true to helpe me, I may hereafter be better advised to beléeue and imploy you: which words ended, they parted.

CHAP. XLII. Of the sorrow that was made in the Assyrian Campe for the Knight of the Oracles absence.

NOw let vs returne to speake of Persicles, who missing Montelyon, within short space after his departure, went to his Chamber to séeke him, and from thence from place to place, but all in vaine, vntill at last he heard newes by a Servant, that there was a Knight departed that day at a Po­sterne gate, armed at every point. Persicles hea­ring that, returned to the Emperour, and certified him, and Con­stantia of his departure: both of them being strooken with suddaine griefe, especially Constantiaes heart was overcome with such passion, that vntill the time of his return, she could never shake it off. Newes like wise was brought, that the Emperour of Almaigne was arrived with forty thousand Souldiers in ayd of the Kings of Armenia and Macedonia. Then began the Emperor of Persia and Persicles to assem­ble all the Nobility together to determine what to doe. A generall conclusion being agréed vpon, within two dayes to bid them battle. But the Souldiers hearing of Montelyons departure, séemed to haue lost their former courage, and to haue béene without comfort.

CHAP. XLIII. Of the secret practises of the King of Armenia and the Emperour of Macedonia to deceive each other of Philothetaes love, which they imparted to Honorius Knight of the Oracle.

NOw Montelyon being like wise no lesse sadde, to haue left them so carelesly, then they were for his absence: Af­ter he had spent all the Night in sadde meditations, he arose earely with purpose to reveale himselfe and his Loue to Philotheta, whatsoeuer ensued thereon: yet fearing eftsoone to disquiet her, he walked downe into a Garden, where he had not stayed long, but hée was saluted by Delfurno, who came to him of purpose to know if he had yet motio­oned his sute to Philotheta. Who answered him, that hée had had much conference with her the last Night about it, and how she had deferred him for that dayes answere. Thereupon Delfurno promi­sed him great rewards, and he as much fidelity, as being contented with his spéeches he departed: He was no sooner gone, but the King of Macedonia came in, whose heart was grounded vpon a new Sub­ject that Montelyon thought not off, for he determined, that none should enioy Philotheta but onely himselfe, and therefore came to make tryall whither this supposed Honorius would condiscend to be ruled by him: which if he would doe, then he thought to convey Philotheta secretly into Macedonia, so as neither Delfurno nor the King of Armenia should haue any suspect thereof. To this effect hée communed with Honorius, first binding him to be secret, then by gifts inticing him, and lastly, dealing by intreaty, vntill he had vtte­red the depth of his mind, which he promised to effect, vsing such words as pleased the King, wherewith hée went away contented. Whilest Montelyon and the King of Macedonia were thus in confe­rence, the King of Armenia was entring the Garden, but séeing them in such discoursing he withdrew himselfe vntill they were parted, and then he came in, demanding what good newes he had for him. My Liege, replyed hée, the last motion you made to her about her marri­age to Delfurno hath hindred your owne, for I had much a doe to perswade her that you had any intent at all to loue her, that were so earnest for another: but notwithstanding that, I hope soone to alter her, and bring her to a better liking of your affection. The Emperor [Page] hath béene with me already, earnestly soliciting me to prosecute his suite with efficacie. Likewise hath the King of Macedonia, with many promises, desired me to vse what perswasions I could in the Emperours behalfe: but for that by your Majesty I am so honoura­bly estéemed of, I will try the vttermost of my skill to pleasure you: I thanke thée good Honorius (quoth he) and I will for thy kindnesse yéeld thée so large a recompence as thy heart can wish. Which said, he departed.

What an Office haue I vndertaken (said Montelyon) to vnder­take to sue for thrée others, that dare not speake for my selfe, and yet contrary to my liking am enforced to vse it, onely to ridde my selfe from griefe. Yet because the time affordeth me opportunity to worke mine owne weale, I will try whether she doth pitty me or no.

CHAP. XLIV. How the Knight of the Oracle discovered himselfe to Philotheta: And how by a stratageme he convayed her thence in safety. And what joy was made both for their safeties.

WHich when he had said, he presently went to Philo­thetaes Lodging, whom he found in a sad and hea­uy meditation, but she suddenly espying him com­ming towards her, turned her selfe from him re­fusing to heare him speake, as supposing his spée­ches would haue tended to perswade her to the loathed liking he had mentioned the day before. He séeing her vnwillingnesse to heare, knew the cau [...]e thereof, but yet emboldning himself he said. Vertuous Lady, pardon my boldnes, and withall vouchsafe to heare my spéech which shall not offend you: for I haue vowed not to vtter a word contrary to your liking. You will then ( qd she) proue perjur'd, for I know your message before you vtter it, and that will displease me. No deare Lady, said he, I come not now to aske pitty for another, but for my selfe, that sometimes haue béene better knowne of you, I am the most vnfortunate Montelyon, that haue adventured thus farre amongst my Foes to séeke you out, my heart having honoured you, ever since my first sight of you in the Hermits Cell in Arabia: Now I desire you to pitty me, for without your favour I am not my selfe, and in your favour I shall account my selfe most fortunate, Philotheta noting him, remembred perfectly, it [Page] was he, which revived her heart with ioy, saying. Most noble Knight I account my selfe m [...]re then happy, in that you haue me in custody, whose vertuous mind I know will shelter me from dishonour: should I not yéeld you thankes for deeming so well of me, that am not wor­thy. I might be condemned of rudenesse: therefore most humbly I thank you, and withall desire you to pitty my estate, that is now rackt vpon the Whéele of dispaire. Deare Lady, said he, I am most willing to doe you service, and I desire nothing more then to imply my selfe to doe you good, for my life is yours, and all that I possesse with it, I humbly prostrate at your sacred féet. Desiring to convay you hence into Assyria, where your Parents liue in safety, inwardly sorrowfull for your absence. Whether if you will be directed by me I will convey you with safety.

Sir, replyed Philotheta, your vertuous kindnesse hath deserved more at my hands then I can yéeld thankes for, then how should I behaue my selfe to the thing you desire, which is already fixed in my heart: I will rest so farre to be directed by you, as that my mind shall be agréeable to yéeld to any request you shall make. Then deare La­die (said he) I will before to morrow this time, sée you safe in my Fathers Court, for much mischiefe is pretended by these Kings of Macedonia and Armenia: both of them haue béene with me this day, and hired me to motion their loues to you, both of them séeking to enjoy you, but so as the other shall not know thereof, each séeking to prevent the other, and both of them the Emperour, which they haue revealed vnto me: but may I haue your licence, I will by that means deliver you from their custody. I most humbly desire you to doe it, (quoth she) referring my selfe to your good directions, and commit­ting all to your wise [...]omes election. Which said, Montelyon embold­ning himselfe gaue and received so swéet a kisse, as séemed to breath forth a swéet exchange of each others Soules. He going to find out the King of Armenia, and she into her private Cham­ber.

Montelyon having found out the King of Armeni [...], told him how that the King of Macedonia went about to convey Philotheta from thence, rehearsing all the conference that had past betwixt them: and withall (quoth he) the Emperour was with me this day, promising me great rewards, if I would doe the like for him. Now my Lord, my loue and duty to you, bindeth me onely to doe you service, and I [Page] haue vowed that my best endeavours shall be imployed onely to your good liking. The King hearing that both of them went about to de­ceiue him raged excéedingly, but trusting his Fidelity, he was quieted: asking what he should doe to prevent them both. My deare Lord (quoth he) this Evening you may effect your desire, or else ne­ver: at which time giue me but directions, whether I may convey her to a place of security, or where we may méete you, and I will ad­venture my life but I will doe it: and by this meanes you shall deliver your Signet vnto me, for our quiet passage forth at the City Gate, and then may wée méete you where you will appoint vs. And that shall be (quoth he) at Fryer Barnards Cell without the City, if you know it, and there is my Signet. Thither will I convay her (quoth he) at twelue a Clocke. Farewell then (quoth the King) be but Faithfull, and thou shalt find my friendship such, as shall highly reward thy paines.

Montelyon having effected this, presently went to the King of Macedonia, telling him how the Emperours importimacie was such, that it was high time, (either then, or never) to convay Philo­theta thence, whom he found willing to yéeld thereunto. He hearing that, desired his counsell, promising well to reward him, intreating him to doe it for him, and both himselfe and his Kingdome should be at his command. Deliver me (quoth Montelyon) your Signet for my Passe, and appoint the place and Time, and I will bring her thither. There is my Signet (quoth he) the place, at Fryar Barnards Cell, and the time, one of the Clocke. After many other spéeches they parted.

Montelyon without stay went to the Emperour, with submisse behaviour, telling him how that Philotheta did greatly affect him, and had sent him to make an humble request vnto him: which was, that we might be convayed in secresie from the Campe, for that ma­ny dangers did invirone her in that place, and that of such impor­tance, as did concerne his Life, whereon her safety depended: which for that they were of weight, she would reveale to none but himselfe, desiring him not to come to her, for that his person might thereby be indangered. Delfurno hearing this, was excéedingly troubled in his mind, yet glad to heare that she estéemed him, said: Honorius, I would as gladly affect any thing to content her, as I would to saue mine owne life, yet doe I not know how, vnlesse by thy directions: [Page] therefore doe but counsell me, and I will yéeld to that which thou shalt advise. My Noble Lord (quoth he) the safest way is, this night secretly to convay her through the Gate where your Souldiers lye, and I will bring her to Fryer Barnards Cell, about eleven of the Clocke, where you may be ready to receiue her, and with a sufficient Guard of Knights to convay her into Almaigne, or any place of secu­rity Moreover, my Lord, she willed me to assure you, that both the King of Armenia and Macedonia, having disloyally forgotten their promise to you, séeke to win her loue to themselues, which dishonour she cannot endure to be done against you. Delfurno was much grie­ved to heare that, yet hoping to prevent them both, he quieted him­selfe, delivering his Signet to Montelyon, with many thankes and much intreaty, desiring him to be carefull, that nothing might prevent their purpose.

Montelyon being glad of this, thought not so to end, but presently went to the Quéene of Macedonia, telling her the Kings complot, for convaying of Philotheta thence, shewing her his Signet: which when she beheld, excéeding griefe possest her heart to thinke of his disloyalty. Montelyon séeing that, said. Notwithstanding, hée hath attempted this, I know the Ladies vertues to be such, as she will rather suffer the extreamest miseries in the world, then yéeld there­to: and for my selfe, though he hath promised me great rewards, I respect more mine honour, then to be the agent in so wicked an Act, therefore to assure, that I entend it not. I yéeld you his Signet, whereby I should haue past the Campe, to méet at Bernards Cell. I thanke thée gentle Knight (quoth she) and for this d [...]ed command me any thing, and thou shalt obtaine it. My selfe will méete him there, and by that meanes, I hope to make him giue over the like attempts.

Montelyon being gone from her, went to the Quéene of Armenia, telling her the like, and indéed the truth of her Lord, both delivering her his Signet and all other directions for her to méete him by: lea­ving her so mad with rage and jealousie, that she was ready to teare her hayre: yea even with bitter exclaimes to reveale her mind, but that she referred it vntill she might surprize him with a guilty con­science at Barnards Cell.

By this time it grew to be night, and after Supper, was ended, both Delfurno, the King of Armenia, and of Macedonia, making [Page] more then wonted hast to breake company, each being glad that the other was so willing to part, which the two Quéenes noted, as priuy to their drifts.

Montelyon like wise got him to Philotheta, telling her, that he had so prevailed with Delfurno, that he had gotten his Signet, as their warrant to passe through the Campe, entreating her to be in a readinesse to goe with him, desiring her to feare no danger, for his life should shield her. She granted to goe with him, desiring him to stay there, vntill the time appointed which he performed, passing the time in private conference with her, to both their likings. The time being come, and all things silent, Montelyon armed himselfe, leading Philo­theta out of the Court, passing all the guards, watches, and garrisons, by shewing the Emperours Signet, and comming where the Soul­diers lay, they likewise let him goe, vntill they were without the City gates. Montelyon having without danger effected this, turned his steps directly towards his owne City, which was not farre off, and therefore with ease they got thither. Being come to the City gates, the watch espying them, demanded who was there. Montelyon had them come downe and sée: they came downe and tooke them in, be­ginning to examine them: but Montelyon discovered himselfe as loath to stay there, yet commanding them to conceale it, and to carry him as a Prisoner to Delatus which they performed, where they knocked, and were let in. Delatus and Alfala knowing him, did him humble reverence, rejoycing in their hearts to see him so safely retur­ned. But Montelyon vnvailing Philotheta, Alfala presently knew her with teares of joy welcomming her, whilest the old Duke melted with passion to behold his Daughter, whom from her infancy he had not séene: embracing her in his armes, and a thousand times kissing her tender cheeke. These embracings being past, Montelyon said, La­dy, since you are now in safety with your Parents, my promise is performed, desiring you to haue regard to the passions I endure, which time will not now permit me to vtter, but leaue to your cour­teous consideration: therefore I beséech you in mine absence, let my loyalty be regarded, and your gentle heart willing to pitty me. Which said, with a second kisse he left her, to submit himselfe to his Pa­rents.

CHAP. XLV. Of the discord that befell betwixt the Emperour of Almaigne, the Emperour of Macedonia, and the King of Armenia, about Philo­thetaes departure. Of a merry jest that befell the two Ladies. And of the desolation of the Armenian Hoast.

FIrst the Emperor choosing vnto him some few trusty Knights that he meant should convay Philotheta into Almaigne, secretly went vnto Bernards Cell, where he shrowded himselfe vnder a tuft of Cipresse trées, stay­ing the comming of Philotheta, but it was an houre before any came, and the first was the Quéene of Macedonia, who attended by one Gentlemen came towards the Cell, whom when Delfurno beheld, he alone stept vnto her, saying. My deare Philotheta, I am sorry that for my sake you should take such paines as at this vnseasonable time to be abroad, for which I render all the thankes that a constant heart can. She hearing that, taking him to be her Lord, yéelded him many thanks, purposing to try the vttermost conclusion, before she revealed her selfe, saying: Had I not assured my selfe of your Loue, I would not haue come hither: but being here I rest at your disposition: Del­furno then embraced her, oft times kissing her, and being of a quicke conceit, presently bethought himselfe if she would condiscend, to call vp the Fryer, and be married. Lady ( qd he) since you haue vouchsafed to grant me loue, enrich me also with possession, which the more law­fully to effect, we will be married by Fryer Bernard. My Lord, re­plyed she, I am contented: then did he call at the Fryers Cell, who arising, Delfurno taking him aside, told him what he was, and the cause of his comming: who hearing that, presently joyned their hands. Delfurno then purposed not to convay her thence, but returne to the Campe, which he performed. They were no sooner gone, but the King of Macedonia commeth to the Cell, and ere he could turne him about, the Quéen of Armenia, according to Montelyons directi­ons came taither. The King himselfe taking her for Philotheta, at the first méeting embraced her with a swéet Congee, vttering many [...]pée­ches to the setting forth of his loue, which she answered as kindly, that he grew so bold, as he would haue had present possession of her loue, but she denyed that, alleadging that he had a Quéene, who hearing of his Loue to her, would séeke her death. Feare not that, deare Loue, [Page] (quoth he) for ere long I meane to make her sure enough for ever troubling of you, therefore deny me not, but yéeld me the fruition of thy loue, I will not quoth she, without further assuran [...]e, for my mind presageth some ill. Here is (quoth he) a Fryer hard by, will you con­sent that he shall marry vs? To that she agréed, and he called vp the Fryer the second time, who much marvelling thereat, demanded the cause of his comming. Fryer, quoth he, the cause of my comming is to be marryed to this Lady, therefore I pray thée doe it without delay. The Fryer thinking that some mad spirits were abroad, or that some franticke dreame had overcome his sences, without asking any more questions marryed them, and sent them away. The King of Macedo­nia, carryed her into his Tent in the field, for that he durst not goe to the Pallace, for feare of his wife, where he stayed with her all night.

Last of all the King of Armenia, premeditating what spéeches to vse to set forth his life, resting himselfe vpon a bankes side, hard by Bar­ [...]ards Cell, staying there comming the space of an houre, with great patience, but when an houre was past, and then another, and a third neare ended, he waxed impatient, fearing to be disappointed, but sée­ing they came not, at last he misdoubted he had mistaken the time, and stayed too long, that being much troubled he knockt at Bernards Cell, who started from his Bed, as one affrighted, wondring what acci­dent had driven so many to his Cell that night. And comming to the doore, the King of Armenia demanded, if there had béene a Lady that night. Yes ( qd be) here hath béene two, but what they were I know not. It was assuredly Philotheta, and with her Delfurno, to whom I marryed her: but what the other two were I know not: The King hearing that, in a rage ran back to the king of Macedoniaes Tent, de­siring to speak with him, the Guard knowing him, let him in, and he standing by his beds side, said. Brother of Macedon, the Lady whom we determined to marry to Delfurno is this Night fled, and for that déed we shall loose his friendship for ever. The K. of Macedonia hea­ring that, lay as one halfe amazed, not knowing what to say, and the Quéen hearing her husband there, whom she thought she had em­braced, trembled with feare. The K. of Macedonia séeing there was no remedy, but that his déed must of necessity be discouered, said. King of Armenia, it is so, I haue Philotheta in my custody, and her I will enjoy, for she lyeth folded in mine armes. By Heaven qd the King of [Page] Armenia, thy life shall not satisfie the dishonour thou hast done vs. With that he drew his Sword, and he starting from his bed to reach his to defend himselfe, in which time the K. of Armenia catching hold on her as she lay, drew her forth into the floore, where beholding her he was then much more enraged, being ready to kill her, but that the King of Macedonia prevented him: who likewise séeing her, stood as one amased, whilest she hasted to apparell her selfe, and ran from thence vnto the Pallace. The King of Armenia vowing revenge, went from the Macedonian Tent, and presently caused his Drum to strike vp Alarum, and commanded his Souldiers to destroy the Macedonians, who according to his command, suddenly set vpon them, that there began an excéeding slaughter amongst them. The Emperor having newes thereof, supposing the cause had béen for the losse of Philotheta, commanded two of his knights to goe vnto either of them, and desire them to be pacified vntill they had discovered their griefes to him, which he could easily remedy, if not he would become a friend to one of them. The messengers found them both to­gether in single combat, and delivered their Message, but it was long before either of them would goe to him, yet at last they went both: To whom Delfurno said: My Lords, I beléeue your strife ariseth from the losse of Philotheta, if that be the cause contend no longer, for as you were both willing I should enjoy her, so I haue this night had possession of her life, being lawfully married vnto her at Bar­nards Cell. The King of Armenia what with rage and jealousie, not well knowing what he did, drew the Curtaines, and discovered their viewes, the Quéene of Macedonia, who séeing her. Honour so betrayed, lay quits bereft of sence, but comming againe to her selfe she cryed out for pardon, alleadging she was betrayed: but there was now no time of parley, for all of them were enraged, and as well Delfurno as the rest, betooke themselues to Armes. But the Quéene of Macedonia humbling her selfe at her husbands féet. Said: Both you, my selfe, and all of vs are deceived: Honorius yesternight de­clared vnto me, that you intended privily to carry Philotheta from hence. I requested him to counsell me how to prevent you, where­upon he told me, that you had appointed to méet with him and her at Barnards Cell and for his Passe he had received your Signet, which at my earnest intreaty he delivered me, I thinking to surprize you there, came thither, where the Emperour as I now perceiue met [Page] me whom I tooke to be your selfe, and he taking me to be Philotheta that went to Bernards Cell, I still concealed my selfe, thinking I had not offended, but now I sée I am betrayed. Lady ( qd he) I willingly pardon this fault, having committed the same with the Quéen of Ar­menia, and in the same manner deceived by Honorius. The Emperor hearing that, sent a Messenger to sée if Philotheta were in the Court, but he returned newes, that both she and Honorius were not to be found. The Emperor then said, that knight hath dereived vs all, ther­fore let vs be friends. Contented qd the King of Macedonia. By hea­ven qd the King of Armenia, I will not beare this dishonour, but be revenged to the full, and cause th [...]e to repent that ever thou sufferedst such dishonour to Armenia. The King of Macedonia could not brooke his words, but in a rage made this reply. I know quoth he, thou art a tyrant, and regardest not the lawes humain nor divine, as may be séen by the vnjust title thou layest to the Crowne of Assyria, which is for­ged, and were it not to revenge my Daughters dishonour and Sons death, I would not haue offered armes against that worthy King. Therefore since thou art so peremptory, doe thy worst, for I regard thée not. The King of Armenia went from thence setting vpon the Macedonians. And the King of Macedonia forsooke his Tents to de­fend himselfe. The Emperor presently commanded his Forces to march forth of the City.

CHAP. XLVI. How the Knight of the Oracle and Persicles, suddenly issuing out, destroyed the whole Armenian Hoast.

MOntelyon knowing that some stratageme would fol­low his last nights policy, after he had submitted himselfe to his Parents & the Emperor, he armed himselfe in the armour which was given him by the Hesperian Nymshs, & presently mounted himselfe, leading his sixty thousand Souldiers forth of the Ci­ty, which likewise he performed before the Emperor or Persicles heard therof: who at last being certified sent for him to know the cause: this night qd he shall we surprize our Enemies, who are now together by the cares within themselues Persicles thereupon armed himselfe, and Deloratus, Pisor, Cothanes, and many other Knights of great estéeme marching thither wards, where they heard such cruell alarums, as [Page] though the City had béen vtterly destroyed And being come néere the City, they beheld the Emperour in the field, to whom Persicles sent a Herald, to certifie him that Persicles was never foe to the Almaigns, and therefore sent to know if Delfurno had any quarrell against him. Delfurno returned answer, that he was never foe to Persicles. Monte­lyon was the first that entred the City, and set vpon his enemies with such fury, that many of them lost their liues, and the day being light, discovered such a cruell slaughter as eye hath not beheld. The King of Armenia, and Macedonia were then in cruell combat together, betwixt whom, Montelyon stept, saying: Striue not to destroy one another but defend y [...]ur selues, for I am come to doe that. They knowing him to be the Knight of the Oracle, were so amazed, as if they had béene surprized with a sudden trance, running seuerall wayes to call backe theirSouldiers from destroying one another, to defend themselues: but before they could set themselues in any good order, the Assyrians were so intermingled amongst them, that before they were aware they lost their liues. Palian séeing themselues so overtaken, perceived it was in vaine to striue for victory, stole forth of the City to Delfurno, intrea­ting him not to forsake them: but he knowing disadvantage had seized on them, refused, letting him returne without comfort, and entring in­to the City, he found his father grievously wounded, and ready to yéeld to Montelyons sword, at whom he ran with such fury, that he wounded him in the thigh: Montelyon séeing that and knowing him, let driue at him with great courage, and continued combat against him, whilest the King of Armenia began to withdraw himselfe, Montelyon séeing that, strooke so forcible a blow at Palian, that he astonisht him and with that overtooke the King, at the first blow cutting in sunder his wrist which had lost his Gantlet, and at the next thrusting his sword quite through his body. Palian by this recovered himselfe, and looking about [...]im, beheld his fathers tragedy, ayming himselfe to revenge. Monte­ly [...] séeing him comming welcommed him with so cruell a blow, that his [...]mour flew in pieces. Palian would haue done the like, had not Montelyons Armour béene of vnwonted strength, but in the end hée fled, find [...] himselfe too weake to resist him. Persicles and Deloratus all this while ranged vp and down, destroying such as they met, vntill at last they enc [...]untred the King of Macedonia, and his two Sons, ac­companied with [...]oure other Knights of Macedonia that made excée­ding slaughter where they went. Persicles ran at the King, and in the [Page] encounter overthrew him, but his eldest Son stept to his rescue, and with an vnlucky blow wounded Persicles on the thigh: then began an vnequall combat betwixt them for those sixe set vpon Persicles and Deloratus, who continued combat against them by the space of an houre, till both sides were grievously wounded, especially Persicles & Deloratus had bled so much, that they were ready to faint. Montelyon came most fortunately to their rescue, who espying his Father and Deloratus in such danger, was so inraged, that he can at one of them with such force, that he slew him, and within few blowes, left another bereft of sence, and offending a third with such puissant blowes, that he could not tell, whether he might stay or run away. Another séeing that, joyned himselfe in combat with him, continuing it but a short space, for he was soone so sore wounded, that he was not able to resist Persicles being sore wounded before, yet so valiantly behaved him­selfe, that one of them lay dead at his féet, and the other fled from Montelyon: then began a desolation in the Hoast, for the Armenians cryed flye, flye, and the other kill, that of a sudden the massacre was so hot, that the Channels of the City began to run with blood, and none could hardly ride or passe on foot for dead carkasses. Then began the Citizens to run on heapes, the two Quéenes be tooke themselues to [...]light with Praxentia, but were taken by Pisor. Palian was taken pri­soner by Deloratus, and the King of Macedonia, and his two Sons by Persicles and Montelyon. The Souldiers that were left, fled forth of the City and hid themselues in the fields, and the Citizens, so many as could escape the sword, vpon their knées intreated Persicles to spare their liues, who yéelded vpon condition they would pay to every com­mon Souldier a 100. Crowns, and to every Leader 500. which they performed. Persicles then sounded retreat, and drew his forces out of the City, appointing Garrisons to kéep the same to his vse. Delfurno at his return met him, and offered to conclude a league of amity with him▪ which he kindly accepted, riding together to the City of Piso [...] where they were received with excéeding ioy, especially Montel [...]on to whom all men attributed the glory of that victory.

After this victory attchieued to the great and excéeding a [...]plaud of Montelyon. Persicles caused all the dead bodies to be bury [...], those that yéelded to be pardoned, the maymed to be carryed to [...]ospitals to be cured and every Souldier to be sent away well rewarded, and highly contented And within few dayes after the Emperours of Persia and [Page] Almaigne, Persicles, Deloratus, and all the Nobles there, except Pri­soners, assembled to finish the Conclusion of this Controversie, for that the King of Macedonia hasted his releasement. When being all set in a most royall and majesticall sort the places neare to that royall assembly being gloriously furnished with the beauties of shining La­dies, the Prisoners were brought in honourable sort, and after many allygations of wrongs, they by a generall consent desired Montelyon to appoint their ransome, attributing the glory of that victory to him, and therefore none but he to haue the disposing of the Prisoners ran­some, with that vnwonted gravity, wisedome, and d [...]cent behaviour yéelded them thankes, as was seldome to be seen in a Knight so yong. First, with honourable courtesie embracing the King of Macedonia, reconciling him to his Quéene and the rest, who had taken offence by him, setting all frée at liberty, but Palian and Praxentia, imposing his taske vpon them, Palian to marry Praxentia, and she to acquit him of the wrongfull accusation she had lad vpon him, which she presently performed, yet vtterly denying to marry with Palian. Then the Em­perours of Persia, Almaigne, and Persicles, desiring to honour Mont [...] ­lyon, stood vp, requesting him to require any thing of them which he further desired, for that aboue all men in the world they honoured him, as he had best deserved. Montelyon desiring nothing more then Philothetaes loue, presently stept to the seat where Philotheta sate like an Angell shining aboue all the rest, and taking her by the hand, he sa [...]: Faire Lady, doe you agrée that whatsoeuer I demand, I sh [...]ll obtaine. Sir, said she, I yéeld, as aboue all the rest bound to ho­ [...]ur you, as one most vnworthy, yet having received most: Then he [...]ading her downe with greater royalty then euer Paris did Hellen, required to be married vnto her, which was applauded with so gene­rall a consent, that not the bluntest heart in that assembly, but did [...]ape with excéeding ioy. Not a soule discontented, none disquieted, but all reioycing, some commending▪ some embracing▪ and euery one desirous to shew their loue to him. The day of the marriage appoin­ted and likewise performed with more Royalty, Ioy, and Pleasure, then can be exprest.