CHAP. 1. Of the linage and ofſpring of Saturne, and how for his inuenting of ſowing corne, planting, &c. hee was honoured in Crete as a God.

WHat time all the Children of Noe, were ſpread by the Climates, raignes, and ſtrange habitations of the world, by the generall diuiſion of tongues, made at the foundation of the tower of Babylon; in thoſe dayes that the worlde was of golde, and that the men were ſtedfaſt and poyſing, as mountaines, and rude as ſtones and beaſts, enhaunſing their great courages, fowling and ſhewing their great conceits: & that the enemie of man induced maliciouſly to practiſe to make Townes, Cities and Caſtles, to make Scepters and Diadems, and to forge and make the curſed ſect of gods among ye poſſeſſors of the Iſle of Crete: There was a rich man inha • anſed full of couetiſe, happie, of aventurous enterpriſe, and right rich of the grace of fortune, ſome men called this man Celion, and ſome Vranus, he was lawfull ſonne of Ether, ſonne of Demor Gorgon the old dweller in the caues of Archadi • e, and firſt beginner of the falſe Paynim gods. This Vranus▪ had to his wife his owne ſiſter called Veſca: he liued gloriouſly with her, and had poſſeſſion of the moſt part of the Iſle of Crete, and abounded proſperouſly in worldly goodes, in increaſing his naturall appetites, firſt in increaſing and ampliation of wordly Lordſhip and ſeigniorie, and ſecondly in lynage, and was marueilous rich. He had two ſonnes, that is to wit, Titan, and Saturne: and two daughters, that one was called Cibell, & the other Ceres, of whom ſhall be made mention hereafter: and hée had many other ſonnes and daughters, of whom I make no mention, for as much as they bee out of my purpoſe. What ſhall I rehearſe more of the glorie of this Vranus. He had all thing as he would, and was fortunat, and nothing went againſt him: his goods multiplied, his children grew and increaſed, but Titan the oldeſt ſonne was foule, euil fauoured, and counterfeyte, and Saturne was marueylouſly fayre, and amiable: for which cauſe Veſca the mother loued much better Saturn than Titan, and that by nature, for naturally the mothers loue better their fayre children than their foule: wherfore Saturne was nouriſhed moſt in the lappe of his mother: and Titan was put out, and in maner baniſhed. And when Saturn was great, what for his beautie, and for his cunning and ſcience and other vertues, hee gate the whole loue of all the people.

In this time it was ſo, that whatſoeuer man practiſed or found any things profitable for the common wealth, was recommended ſolemnly, and called and named a God, after their fooliſh and darke cuſtome. Saturne was named a god, for in his youth, by his cumming, he was the the firſt finder to giue inſtruction of ea • ing and laboring the earth, and of ſowing and reaping the corne. And this inuention was applied to Saturne, with diuine reuerence, with loue vpon loue, not onely anenſt Veſca, and Vranus, and his kinſmen: but aboue meaſure all the people of Crete, and of the Marches & Countryes lying by, and there about. And thus his name aroſe, and was renowmed, that from all places, men and children, Nobles and villaines, came to his ſchoole for to learne. In theſe daies that Saturn began thus to flouriſh, and was twentie yeares of age and his brother fortie, Vranus their father by a ſicknes that he had, dyed, and departed out of this world, leauing his wife Veſca endowed largely of poſſeſſions. His death was noyous and ſorrowfull to Veſca his wife, which cauſed her to weepe out of meaſure, and his ſons and daughters alſo, they did his obſequie reuerently, in abounding of great and bitter ſorrow. The obſequie done (their wéeping and ſorrow yet during) Veſca ſaw that Titan her eldeſt ſon pretended to haue and inioy the ſucceſſion of his father: ſhe on a day called her deare ſonne Saturne, with Titan, and other of the Countrey, and there rehearſed and ſaide vnto them, that her yong ſonne Saturne ſhould ſuccéede, and haue the heritages of her huſband. Titan hearing the will of his mother, redoubled his ſorrow, & it cauſed him to wéepe great plentie of teares, and knéeled too fore his mother humbly, and ſaide in in this wiſe: Mother, I am right infortunate, when ye will that my right patrimonie be put from me, and that naturally me ought to haue by right, ſhould be giuen from me: and yet becauſe that I am not ſo wel formed of members, as my brother Saturne is, which ſorrow is to me paſſing noyous, ye wil put from me my fortune and byrth, which ye may not do by lawfull reaſon. I am your firſt ſonne, ye haue nouriſhed me with the ſubſtance of your blood, as your childe, borne in your bellie nine Moneths. Alſo I am he that firſt dwelled and inhabited your feminine chambers: none tofore me tooke there any ſeiſin: when I tooke that, then ye gaue, mée your due loue, and ſorted to me the ſucceſſion of your heritages. Then whence cometh this, that ye nowe ſubuert and deſtroy that nature hath once ioyned & giuen me: euery mother is bounden to holde the conſeruation of the right of her child. Alas, mother, will ye make me baſtard fro my right? am I a baſtard? was not Vranus my father? am not I he that ye were ſo glad for, what time ye felt firſt that I was conceiued in the lawfull bed of my father your huſband? am I not be that ye bare, and gaue mee ſucke of your breaſtes, and oftentimes 〈1 page duplicate〉 〈1 page duplicate〉 〈1 page duplicate〉 〈1 page duplicate〉 kiſſed me, that is to ſay, in my tender dayes, what tyme my members were ſoft and tender? Ha mother, acquit you ayeinſt me, as ye beholden and bounden by right, and knowledge ye that I am Titan, and for as much as I am leſſe and not ſo well adreſſed as my brother Saturne, ſo much yée ought the more deſire my promotion, and furthering.

When dame Veſca heard her ſonne Titan ſpeake ſo ſadly, and profoundly, ſhe had pittie on him: yet the pitie was not of ſo high vertue, that might ſurmount the great loue that was rooted betwéene her and Saturne, and then ſhe ſayde to Titan her ſonne: Titan, my ſonne, I denie not that thou tookeſt thy ſubſtance betwéene my ſides, and were brought into this world: and know verily that I loue thée intirely, and that I deſire thy weale: but it is ſo cleare and euident in euery mans ſight, that for the default, loathlineſſe, and abhomination of thy members, thou art not a man ſufficient to defend thy fathers heritage, with great labour and paine: for if it happen that one man would make warre, thou were not able to reſiſt him: what wouldeſt thou that I ſhould do? thy brother hath the loue of al the people, for his beautie, and his vertuous maners, and euery man holdeth him in reuerence, and thée in deriſion and ſcorne. Be thou content, thou ſhalt lacke nothing, and if thou lacke, ſpeake to me and I ſhall remedie it: but ſpeake neuer no more to mee for the heritage, for Saturne ſhall obtaine it, by the fauour of his wiſedome, méekeneſſe, and benignitie, and alſo becauſe the common ſort iudgeth him, and ſéeth that hee ſhall once bee the man whoſe life ſhall ſhine gloriouſly.

Titan was ſort troubled of the words of his mother, and he began to chaunge colour, and waxe red, hauing ſuſpition to Saturne, that hee had contriued this matter againſt him: whereupon he drew him apart to him, and ſaide: Saturne, the enuie that thou haſt to raigne aboue me, hath now ingendred in my heart thy mortall miſchiefe, whereof the hate ſhall endure vnto the mortall ſeparation of thy life, and of mine, and of my children. Thou knoweſt well that I am the eldeſt ſon of our father Vranus, how art thou ſo hardy and preſumptuous, to inhaunce thy ſelfe aboue me by conſpired imagination? I will that thou knowe verily, that like as thou haſt conſpired in my temporal domage, ſemblably I ſhall conſpire to thy eternal domage & hurt. And name me from henceforth thy mortall enemie. When Saturne heard theſe burning and enflamed menaſſes of his brother Titan, he excuſed himſelfe and anſwered, that he neuer thought in his life to come to the ſucceſſion of their father, nor neuer had imagined nor conſpired it. Then Veſca their mother, Cibell, and Ceres, tooke the wordes fro Saturne, and ſaide to Titan, that his threatning to Saturne was for naught, for he ſhould raigne and be Lord and maiſter. Titan full of felonie, and more angrie then hée was too fore, ſaid plainly that he would not ſuffer it. Saturne had a great part of the people that aſſiſted him, and gaue him fauour. And Titan alſo had other on his ſide, which began to murmure, the one partie agaynſt the other. All the compapanie was ſore troubled, and began to thruſt in, and enployed them to ceaſe the noyſe, and to accord Titan: notwithſtanding it was hard to doe, for alway he would haue runne vpon Saturne, if he had not béene hold and letted alway. In the ende, the wiſe men ſhewed Titan by great reaſon, that he was the more féeble, and that Saturne was more in the fauour of the people, and that he would modere himſelfe a little, and ſayde that he ſhould agrée, and graunt the raigne to Saturne, by condition, that if hee married, he ſhould be bound to put to death all his children males, that ſhould be begotten of his ſéede, if he any had, for ye wele of both parties. Veſca with her daughter, and the auncient wiſe people accorded to Titan this condition, and laboured ſo to Saturne, that they brought them to the Temple of their god Mars, that was in the citie of Oſon, whereof was Lord a mightie man called Milliſeus, and that afore the image of the god Mars, Saturne ſwore that if him happed to marry, and that hee had any children males, hee would ſlea them all, & thus was Titan content yt his brother ſhuld enioy the land of Crete, & the peace was made betwéen them both.

CHAP. II. ¶How Saturne was crowned firſt King of Crete and how he found firſt diuers ſciences, wherefore the people held him in great honour as a God.

AFter the treatie made of the peace of Titan and Saturne, Titan ſaw in himſelfe that hee might not worſhipfully abide and dwell, being vnder his yonger brother: had leuer go and ſearch his aduentures in other places, then to be thral to his yonger brother. Hee tooke his wife his children and friendes, and departed at all aduenture into diuers places, where he found fortune ſo good and happy that by armes and ſtrength he made himſelfe king of many diuerſe Realmes, which hee departed vnto his chlldren, and commiſed and ordained certaine eſpies to eſpie and waite, if his brother Saturne married himſelfe, and if his wife brought foorth men children, and whether hée put them to death. During theſe ſaide things, Saturne dwelled with his mother and his ſiſters Cibell and Ceres, and beganne to raigne with ſo great magnificence, that they of the countrie ſéeing their neighbours by them did make and ordaine Kings to raigne on them, of ſuch as were noble and vertuous: aſſembled togither on a day, and made Saturne King ouer them, and vppon their lines, and crowned him with great glorie, with a crowne of Lawyer, with great ioy. Saturne anon tooke and accepted this royall honour and worſhip, and tooke the ſcepter in his hand, and here the crowne on his head, and raigned wiſely, inducing his people to liue honeſtly, and to loue vertue, and ordained a naked ſword to be borne afore him, in ſigne of iuſtice. He did iuſtice on malefactours, and enhaunſed them that were good, hee did build a Citie, which he named Crete, becauſe the Ile bare the ſaide name, and hee was the firſt inhabitour and dweller. When he had founded the Citie, he ordained his Pallace and dwelling place in the middle thereof, in example, as the heart is in the middes of the bodie, to miniſter to the members, ſo hée would inſtruct and gouerne his people. And after this, he choſe an hundred and foure wiſe men, which hee inſtituted and ordained counſellours and gouernours of his Realme. And then they of Crete ſéeing the right great wiſedome of their king, aſſembled togither diuers times, and named him a god: and yet more, they founded vnto him a Temple, an Alter and an Idole, bearing in the one hand a ſickle, in ſignification that hee deſtroyed the vices, in ſuch wiſe as the fickle cutteth hearbs and deſtroyeth the wéedes: and in the other hand he held a ſerpent, that did bite his taile, foraſmuch as Saturn ſaid, that euery man ſhuld bite the taile of the ſerpent, yt is to ſay, that euery man ſhould feare and flée the euill end: For the end oftentimes is venemous, as the taile of a Serpent: and that appeareth yet daily by the ende of many euill diſpoſed and inuenomed men.

By the meane of theſe thinges the renoume of king Saturne grewe, and that worlde was the time of golde: That is for to ſay, it was much better, and more abundant in the daies of mans life, and in plentie of fruits of the earth, then in any other time after. The Poets by this colour, compared the world at this time to gold, which is moſt pretious of al metals: wherfore many men ſay, that Saturne was the firſt man that found the maner to melt mettall, and to affine gold, and made his veſſell, & vtenſilles of his houſe, of diuers mettal. And vnder this colour, they figured at that time, the worlde to be of gold. Then began the men by the doctrine of Saturne to vſe and were gold, to myne the rocks, to pearce the mountains perillous, to haunt the thorny deſarts, to fight & aduance the orguillous ſerpents, ye fierce dragons, ye deadly griffons, ye mōſtrous beaſts, & to ſpred abroad their worldly engins. By theſe exerciſes was then Saturne the fourbiſher and beginner of the ſtile, to learne men to take theſe beaſts. And firſt found the manner of ſhooting and drawing of the bow. Of this gold, made Saturne his houſe, his chambers and halles, to ſhine by maruailous working. He was ſtrong and hardie, he had no feare nor doubt of any Serpent of the mountaine, nor any monſter of deſart, or of beaſt dwelling in caues. He knew the veines of gold in the earth, and could diſcerne them from the veines of ſiluer. He edifies rich things of gold ioyous vnto the eie ſight, and h • te and couragious to the heart. For at that time the courages by perdurable fire chaſing the affections of man, in manner of a contagious heat ſo ſingularly, that after alway that they coueted, they deſired to accompliſh. In this time of the golden world, the creatures liued and endured greatly and long. And al the world laboured in edification of ſcience and cunning of vertue. And that time were the men more vertuous in bodily edifying, then euer they were ſince. Among whom Saturne was neuer idle, after that he had once laboured cornes in earing and ſowing. Hee molte and fined gold and mettals, and induced and taught his men to draw the bow and ſhoote. He himſelfe found firſt the bow, and the manner to go and ſaile by the ſea, and to rowe with little boates by the riuage, and tooke his owne pleaſure for to endoctrine and teach his people in all theſe things, and he had great aboundance of worldly goods reſerued, onely he durſt not marrie: and that hee had ſworne to death all the men children that ſhould come of his ſéede. Whereof hee was oftentimes anoyed, and had great diſpleaſure, &c.

CHAP. III. ¶Howe Saturne went to Delphos, and had aunſwere, how hee ſhould haue a ſon that ſhould chaſe him out of his realme. And how he maried him to his ſiſter Cibell, &c.

WHen Saturne ſawe his Palace flouriſh and ſhine of gold, and ſawe his people obey him, ſaw his goldſmiths & workers breake mountaines with their Pikares, and inſtruments: ſaw his mariners cut ye waues of the ſea with their Oares, ſaw his diſciples learn and labor the earth, ſaw his Archers ſhoot with their arrowes, & ſmote and tooke the birds, dwelling in the high trées, and flying by the ayre: he might embrace great glorie, and inhaunce on high his throne, and his felicitie. But on the other ſide, when he remembred the couenant made betwéen him and his brother Titan, he was like vnto the Peacocke that is proud of the fayre feathers diuerſly faire coloured, which he ſpreades round as a whéele, & withall only looking on his féet, he leeſeth all his ioy. Saturn likewiſe by this treatie, loſt al his ioy, his glory, and his pleaſure. He was long time leading this life, now ioyous, now ſorowfull, growing alway and increaſing his realme, and dayly thought and poiſed in himſelfe if he might marry or not, for nothing in the world he would falſe his oath. He was iuſt and true in déed & in word. Neuertheles, nature moued him, and cited him to haue generation, and to come to company of women: and this mouing was al all times refreſhed and renued by a continuall ſight that hée had daily in a paſſing faire maid, that is to wit, his ſiſter Cibell, which he ſaw continually: in whom was no default of al the goods of nature appertaining to woman. She was out of meaſure right hūble in ſpeaking: wiſe in her works, honeſt in conuerſation, and flowing in all vertues. And for this cauſe Saturne behelde her oft times. And ſo hapned on a time as he beheld her affayres and workes, he caſt his eyen on her vertues that pleaſed him ſo greatly, that in the ende he was deſirous of her loue, wherof his mother Veſca had great ioy, and pleaſure. And ſhe perceiuing of the deſire of Saturne, gaue him courage and will to marry her. And ſo laboured and ſolicited the mariage ſo effectually, that with great worſhip and triumph, Saturne ſpouſed and wedded Cibell his ſiſter, after their vſage, and ſhe was the firſt Quéene of Crete. He liuing with her, payed in this wiſe the due debt of marriage, that at the ende of nine moneths, Cibell had a ſonne, which Saturne did put to death, acquiting himſelfe of the oath that he had made vnto his brother Titan. And of this Boccace maketh no mention. But they lay togither againe, And Cibell conceyued then of the ſéede of Saturne, another ſonne with a daughter, that by ſpace of time appeared great in the mothers belly.

In the time when the lawe of nature was in his vigour and ſtrength, the men marryed with their ſiſters. And in eſpeciall the Painims, if they were not content, and had ſuffiſance of one wife, they might take mo without reproch. When Saturne knewe that his wife was with childe the ſecond time, the death of his firſt ſonne came before him, and he ſaid in himſelfe, that he would that his wife had béen harren. Then he began to be full of diuerſe fantaſies of forthoughts, and deſired to know what ſhould befall of the fruit of the wombe of Cibell. He went himſelfe forth to the Ile of Delphos vnto the Oracle of the god Apollo, that gaue anſwer to the people that demaunded of things that ſhould after fall and happen. And then when hee had done his ſacrifice, and made his praier, the Prieſt of the Temple put him into a perelos, vnder the altar of the forſayd Idol: and there he heard a great whirling wind that troubled him, and all his wit and vnderſtanding, that he was in maner of a ſpaſme or a ſowns, by which he fel to the ground, and after that when he aroſe, him thought that the god Aprllo appeared vnto him with a dreadfull face, and ſaide thus to him. Saturne what moueth thée to will to knowe thine euill deſtinie? thou haſt ingendred a ſonne, that ſhal take from thée the diademe of Crete, and ſhall baniſh thée out of thy realme, & ſhall be without phere aboue all people, the moſt fortunate man that euer was borne in Grece. After theſe wordes Saturne came againe to himſelfe, and remembred him of his euill prophecie that touched the bottom of his heart, and ſo ſore anoyed, and right penſife, hee went out of the Oracle with a troubled hart, and all bare of gladneſſe, and all oppreſſed and enuironed with wanhops, came to his folke and departed thence, and went to ſhip: and when he was in his ſhip, hée hung downe his head, which he helde not vp till he came to Crete. And when he had his head ſo enclined, he beganne to thinke and bee pen •• fe. And after many right ſorrowfull fighs, engendred in the roote of Melancholy, ſaid in this wiſe: Alas Saturne your king, what auaileth me the dignitie to be the firſt king of Crete? what profited me theſe diuine reuerences? or what good doo mee my ſcience, when I féele me in putting backe of fortune? O fortune ſoone turning, fraile and variable, and plying to euery wind like a roſter: at leaſt ſtay, that the whéele that turneth without ende, may ſpeake to me Saturne, that inuenter and finder of the cōmon weale. And if thou wilt not lende me thy cleare and laughing viſage, at leaſt lende me thy large eares. Thou haſt giuen mée triumph and glorie of Crowne: and now thou ſuffereſt me to fall from this great worſhip, he gods witneſſe it. And what is this? thou haſt conſented to my proſpertie, and now conſpireſt my mendicitie, my fall and ſhamefull • nde: and intendeſt that I ſhall bee named the vnhappie Saturne. If all my life hath béene nouriſhed in happineſſe, and the ende vnhappie and wofull, I ſhall bee called and ſayde vnhappie: and all my happie fortunes and bliſſes ſhall turne more to reproach and ſhame, then to prayſing or to anie worſhip. O fortune: in what thing haue I offended? haue I foughten agaynſt thée? or haue I done any follie againſt the magnificence of the goddes? Haue I rebelled or offended the aires, the worlds, the heauens, the planets, the ſ •• e, the moone, the earths, the ſeas, what haue I doone or treſpaſt tell me. O my God where art thou? Haſt thou ennie to me, be 〈◊〉 I haue béene in the Oracle of the aforeſaide God Apoll • he hath ſhewed vnto me the ruine of my 〈◊〉 , ſhe 〈◊〉 • hing and breaking of my Dyademe, the 〈…〉 the cleareneſſe of my raigne, the enhaunſing 〈…〉 and the putting me out of my Realme, that ſhall or • eade of his inſurrection. Alas what remedy to this great ſorrow that I haue? I haue ſlaine one of my ſonnes, wherefore I haue great and bitter ſorrow: and haue concluded in my ſelfe, that neuer hereafter I will ſo cruelly ſpill the life of my children, for to die with them. After this concluſion, I muſt of very force, and ſore againſt my will, returne and continue in my firſt vnnaturall crueltie. For if my ſonne that nowe is in the wombe of my wife, be ſuffered to liue, he ſhall exile mée and put me out of my Realme, and downe off my throne, which ſhall be to me right hard and gréeuous to beare and ſuffer patiently. And therfore it is better to ſlea him. Alas and if I ſlea him, then it ſéemeth me I ſhould reſiſt the will of the gods, which peraduenture will raiſe him againe, and that ſhould be worſe, for then I ſhould not onely be called an homicide and manſ • ear, but an vnnaturall murtherer, not of a Giant, nor of a ſtrange man of another land: but of a right little childe, iſſued of my proper • eines, bones, and fleſh: That after the Pronoſtication of the gods is preelect, and choſen to be the greateſt Lord of Greece, and ſoueraigne of all the kings in his time.

Saturne thus féeling him in great ſorrow and trouble, and alway worſe and worſe, as afore is ſaid, beganne to change his colour and waxe pale, full of melancholy, and of fantaſies, and could not appeaſe his vnfortune. His moſt priuie men, and they that were moſt familiar with him, durſt not approch vnto him, but ſéeing his ſorowfull maner, they were diſcomforted in his deſolatiō, ſorrowful with his ſorrow, and angry with his anger. He was in ſhort time ſo greatly perturbed, and impreſſed with ſo eager impreſſon of ſorrow, that his face was like vnto Aſhes, or as he had bee dead alway: and after many thoughts, he opened his mouth, and ſpake ſoftly thus: I ſlea my ſelfe by melancholy, and am a man greatly abuſed: I haue made an oath vnto my brother Titan, that I ſhal put all my children male to death, that ſhal come of my fleſh. Peraduenture the gods wold not ſuffer that I ſhalbe forſworne: and haue let me haue knowledge by my god Apollo, that my wife hath conceiued a ſonne that ſhall put me out of my Realme, to the end that I ſhould ſlea him: foraſmuch as I had concluded in my ſelfe, to haue broken mine oath, and haue ſpared the liues of my children. And ſince it is ſo, I ſhall no longer ſpare them: if it happen that my ſonne be borne a liue, certaine he ſhall be put to death: for it is better that he die a childe, then he ſhould waxe a man, and waxe rebell againſt me, and enhaunce himſelf aboue me, by his malice, inſurrection, or otherwiſe.

In this will and reſolution, this ſorrowful Saturne returned into his houſe, continuing in this eſtate, and ſorrowfull ſighs, & melancholious fantaſies, in ſuch wiſe that Cibel durſt not come into his preſence, nor could not get of him a ioyous ſight: wherefore he got him a ſurname of ſorrow, and was named Saturne, the triſte, or ſorrowfull. And it was ſo, that when he had bin in his houſe a certain ſpace, and ſaw the day approch that his wife ſhould be deliuered of child, for to execute his ſorowful courage, he called his wife and ſaid: Dame it is ſo apparant, that ſhortly thou ſhalt be deliuered of ye fruit of thy wombe: if thou be deliuered of a ſonne, I commaund thée vpon pain of death, that thou ſlea him, and that thou ſend me his heart. And when Cibell heard theſe wordes, and this rigorous and vnnaturall violence and will, anon ſhe fell to the ground in a ſowne, for her legs failed her. And in the reléeuing of the ſowne, ſhee knéeled before the féete of Saturne, and ſaid on this wiſe. Sir, haſt thou no ſhame, that wilt bee huſband of a woman murdering her owne child: I thée require of mercy and grace, beſéeching thée to haue regard, that I am thy wife, and haue the heart of a woman, and not of a tyrant, or a murtherer. Dame (anſwered Saturne) require me no more of things touching this matter: it is iudged by a foreſéene and counterpeyſed ſentence, that if thou haue a ſon, he ſhall bee dead: for I haue promiſed and ſworne ſo to my brother Titan: and aboue this, I haue anſwere of the god Apollo, that in thy wombe is a ſonne, that ſhall caſt me out of this realme: and therefore, ſée that at his birth he be dead, as deare as thou loueſt thy life: and alſo, as I haue ſaid, ſend me his heart medled with wine, that I may drinke it. And how ſir, anſwered Cibell, knoweſt thou not that I am a woman, and by proper and ſingular inclination, I haue a verie loue to ſmall children, and muſt giue them to eate, and ſuck? O wéeneſt thou that I haue an heart ſo hard, as for to foile my hands with the blood of my ſon? I pray and require thée, to reuoke thy ſentence, and be pitious to thy wife and generation. Thou art wiſe after the iudgement of thy people. In this partie, thou ſheweſt thy ſelfe not good: for by thy oath thou art not bounden, nor holden to ſlea thy ſonne, ſéeing it is truth, that all oathes made agaynſt good maners, ought not to be holden. For to ſlea thy ſonne, it is a villaine caſe, & contrarie to honour, reaſon, pittie, equitie, and iuſtice. It is ſinne againſt nature, agaynſt vertue, and againſt all good maners. Then, thy oath for to ſlea thy ſonne is nought, and thou oughteſt anull it: thou art king, and that vpon paine of death forviddeſt thy people to make murther, or homicide. By this thou that art myrrour & example to other, oughteſt to be content and appeaſe thy ſelfe. And me ſéemeth on that other ſide, that thou interpreteſt, and conſtrueſt euill, the ſentence of god Apollo, ſaying, that I haue in my wombe a ſonne, that ſhall put thée out of thy kingdome, For by this, it ought to be vnderſtand, that the ſonne that I beare, ſhall ouerliue thée, and put thée ſo out of thy kingdome, that is to ſay, into thy Sepulchre, the day that thou ſhalt depart out of this worlde. And if this may not appeaſe thée: if it ſo happen that I haue a ſonne, thou maiſt do him to be kept in a ſtrong Tower, and there to ſet ſuch warde vpon him, that he ſhall neuer bee of power to enhaunce himſelfe againſt thée.

Saturn had then the heart paſſing great, that for ſemblable compaſſion, Veſca the mother, Cibell and Ceres, wept, and gaue out great plentie of teares, and in like wiſe all the aſſiſtants that were in the place, wept out of meaſure aboundantly: yet neuertheleſſe it might not ſoft nor attemper the hard commaundement of king Saturne. But in concluſion, he ſayd to Cibell, that ſhe ſhould no more procure the reſpite of the life of his ſon, but he ſhould be dead, and ſhe alſo with him, if ſhe did not his commaundement. With ſorrowfull concluſion Cibell departed from thence, all in a traunce halfe dead, and caſting abroade her armes and hands, with great exceſſe of teares, that ran like a riuer from her tender eyen, entred into a Tower, her mother that deſolate Ladie following her. She being in her chamber for fruſhed, and all diſtempered with ſorrow, began to trauell anon, & was deliuered of a daughter, and of a ſon. The daughter was borne before the ſonne, and was ſent by Ceres, and borne to nouriſh into the Citie of Parthenie, and was named Iuno: and the ſon began to laugh at comming out of his mothers wombe, and was named Iupiter.

When Cibell and Veſca, ſawe the childe laugh, their teares began to grow double, and they had not taken great regard and héed to the child, what time Cibell all angrie and corrupt with wanhope, with a ſigh and féeble ſpirite ſaid to her mother: Ha, my mother, what pitious caſe ſhall this bée now? giue me a ſharpe cutting knife, and I ſhall murther my ſonne, by vnnaturall errour againſt my will. And after this villainous déed, for my abſolution of the great ſinne, I ſhall murther my ſelfe alſo. And this is my full purpoſe: for, after ſo cruell a déede and worke, notwithſtanding any excuſation, I neuer will longer liue. The mother of Cibell was then al bewept and greatly diſmaid, when ſhe heard the aire of the tender mouth of her daughter redound in her eares, of ſo hard a crueltie: ſhe being all afraid, ſaid to her, my daughter what thinkſt thou to do? art thou enraged out of thy wit, or fooliſh? My mother, anſwered Cibell, yea verily, I am verily as you ſay, enraged out of my wit, and fooliſh, and yet more I am furious woode. Make me no longer to languiſh. Giue me the curſed mortall knife, forged in an euill houre, for of force I muſt obey the king Saturne, your right welbeloued ſonne, my right redoubted huſband, that hath commandement ouer me, and will ſhamefully put me to death, if I accompliſh not, and fulfill his commaundement in the death of his ſonne, which he hath charged me to ſlea.

Anon, as Veſca conſidered that her daughter ſayd, and in the errour that ſhe was in, ſhe tooke the child that was in her armes, and plucked it from her by force, and alway the childe laughed. When Cibell ſawe her ſonne in the armes of her mother, as a woman enraged and out of her wit, ſhée began to crie, that ſhe ſhould ſlea the childe, or giue it her againe; or elſe ſhe would ariſe out of her bed, and go and complaine to king Saturne. After theſe wordes, Veſca deliuered the child to a Damoſell of the houſe, that onely was there with them, and bade her, that ſhe ſhould go ſlea the childe in the preſence of Saturne, or in ſome other place out of theyr ſight: the poore damoſell excuſed her, and Veſca gaue her in commandement, and charged her with great menaces, that ſhe ſhould go forth and take the child, and the knife, and •• ea it. And ſo by the commaundement of theſe two Ladyes, ſhee tooke the knife many times, & put it to the throte of the childe, for to cut it aſunder, and alway the noble childe laughed at the knife. And when the damoſell ſaw this, that it was innonocent, ſhe might not find in her heart to do it any harme. In this ſorrow, and and in this pain and vexation, Veſca, Cibel, and the damoſell were a long time. Now they iudged him to death and put the knife to his throte: and ſuddainly the Damoſell reuoked it, and ſware that ſhe would neuer be perſecutreſſe of one to fayre a childe. And thus they began all thrée to wéepe and ſobbe, bewailing the childe, by ſo great affection that it was pitie to heare. After this, when they had long wept and ſobbed, and bewayled the tender wéeping and paine of Cibell, they beganne a little to pacifie their hearts and began to returne to motherly pitie. Cibell called her that held the child, and required her pitiouſly, that ſhe would giue her her ſonne, to kiſſe and hold in her armes, promiſing that ſhe would do him no harme. The Damoſell that wiſt not what ſhould fall, deliuered her her tender childe: and then when Cibell beheld her childe, with her face all bewept, and all diſtempered with teares, ſhe kiſſed his laughing mouth, more then an C. times, & came againe to her nature, knowledging her ſinne, and began to ſay. My child, I had bin well infortunate, if I had taken thy life from thée. I haue cōtended thy death: my right ſwéete ſonne, alas ſhall I perſecute thée after the will of thy father king Saturne? It is his commandement, and I owe him obeyſaunce: if I obey, the culpe and ſin is due to him. If I obey not, I make my ſelfe culpable of death. Ah what is this? ſhalt thou die by my handes▪ by the hands of thy proper mother? H • , ſhall thy mother be thy m •• tyrer? Shall thy mother be thine enemie, and bitter mortal aduerſarie, for doubt of death? I wote not what to ſay, but wil I, or will I not, thou art my ſonne. Euery mother loueth her childe: how may I hate thée? It is much better that I tie then thou, I haue liued long though, and thou art nowe 〈◊〉 borne. Verily thou ſhalt not •• s at this time. I ſhall ſaue thy life: or, I ſhall die for thy health, requiring the gods mercie for the euill will that I had againſt thée.

CHAP. IIII. ¶How Saturn had commaunded to ſlea Iupiter that was new borne, and how his mother Cibell ſent him to king Meliſeus, where he was nouriſhed,

THe right ſorrowfull Ladie, after this came better to hir ſelfe, and tooke heart to he • , and kiſſed her child that alway laughed. And Veſca beheld her countenance all new, and ſate downe on the bed ſide where her daughter lay. There they two began to ſpeake togither of Saturn, & of the fortune of this childe, and that hee had béene in great aduenture: and promiſed the one vnto the other, that they would ſaue the childe, vnto their power. After this promiſe, in the ende of diuerſe purpoſes, they concluded to ſend this child ſecretly vnto the two daughters of king Melliſeus, the which Veſca had nouriſhed in her yong age. Of theſe two daughters, the one was named Almachee, and the other Melliſee. This concluſion fully finiſhed and taken, Veſca lapped and wound the childe as it ought to be, and deliuered it vnto a damoſell being there preſent, with all things, & gaue her charge to bear it ſecretly to Almachee, & Melliſee. The good damoſel enterpriſed the ſaid charge, and departed out of Crete with the child at al aduenture, & ſo worſhipfully guided her, that ſhe brought the child liuing in ſafetie to the citie of Oſon: which ſhe preſented to Almachee and Melliſee, rehearſing how Veſca had ſent him to them, for the great loue and truſt that ſhe had in them, and how Saturn had commaunded that his mother ſhould flea it.

Anone, as theſe two damoſels ſawe the childe, and vnderſtoode how Saturne had iudged it to death, they receyued it with pitie, and in fauour of Veſca, promiſed to nouriſh it in the ſecreteſt and beſt wiſe that they mought, And forthwith the ſame houre they bare the childe vnto a mountaine that was nigh to the Citie, wherein dwelled their nourſe in a déepe hole of a caue, which was richly entailed, and carued with Chiſell and other diuerſe inſtruments. And then they ſent againe the Damoſell that brought the child into Crete. In this maner was the life of the childe ſaued. Almachee and Melliſe nouriſhed the child with the milk of a goat. Fortune was to him more propice and helping thē nature. What ſhall I ſay, in the beginning when he was put in the caue, as his nurſe on a day ſawe him wéepe and crie by his proper inclination of chilhoode, becauſe hee ſhould not be heard, they tooke Trumpets, Timpanes, and nimbals, and made them to ſownd ſo greatly, that a great multitude of Bées fléeing about the mountaine heard their ſound, and with this ſownd entred into the caue, and tooke an hole by the childe, flying about him without any greefe or harme doing to the childe: and yet more, they made there honie, whereof the childe did eate and was nouriſhed from thence forth, which was a maruailous thing. And for to atchieue the matter, beginning at the damoſell that had borne this childe thither: when ſhe came againe, ſhee rehearſed to dame Cibell and Veſca, all her dooing and worke, and gaue them a right great comfort touching the childe. Then the two Ladies, by méere deliberatiō tooke an Abeſt, which is a precious ſtone, and brayed it into pouder, and after that they mingled it with wine in a cup of gold, and dame Veſca bare it to her ſon Saturne, and ſhe abounding in bitter teares all bewept, ſaid vnto him: My ſonne, thy wife hath ſent to thée this drinke, know thou verely that ſhe this day hath rendred and yéelden the fruit of her wombe, a ſon and a daughter: ſhe hath ſent the daughter to nouriſh in the Citie of Parthenie: but in the obeying of thy ſtraight commandemēt, we haue defeated thy ſon, and put him to death. Of whom the body, the fleſh, and the little tender bones be now turned into aſhes, & ſhe hath ſent here to thee, the right noble hart tempred in wine: which I preſent to thée, to the end that thou do thy pleaſure, and be no more in doubt by thy ſon to be put out of ye realme,

Anon as Saturne heard the pittious wordes of his mother, vnderſtanding the newe tidings that ſhee ſaide and ſhewed him, he beganne to frowne, and ſayde in this manner. O pittie without pittie: ought not my heart bee terrible angrie, and reſtrained with preſſours of ſorrow, whan it is force of that to mine hart this preſent heart, iſſued of his blood and rootes, be giuen in meate & paſture, for to ſtaunche the diſconuenable hunger of mine vnhoneſt deſire. Theſe wordes accompliſhed, Saturne was greatly diſpleaſed and full of renewing of ſorrow, dranke the drinke, wéening that it had béene as his mother had done him to vnderſtand: and after went into his chamber, and there beganne to bee greatly in melancholie: and after that, forth on he purpoſed and trowed to abſtaine himſelfe to pay his wife the dew debt of marriage. But as there is no ſorrow that ouerpaſſeth not by ſpace of time, he forgat this ſorrow, & lying with his wife, engendred another ſon, which ſhe ſaued like as Iupiter was ſaued (notwithſtanding that Saturn charged her to put him to death) and this child was caried to Athenes, where he was kept and nouriſhed and named Nepune. Yet after this he lay with his wife, and engendred another ſon and a daughter, which at time conuenable were borne, and departed from their mother: but at this time ſhe tolde not of her ſon, but hid it from Saturne: which ſonne was named Pluto, and ſhe did it to keepe in the parties of Theſſaly, that afterward was named hel. And for to content her huſband Saturne, when ſhee was deliuered of theſe two children, ſhe ſent to him her daughter, which was called Galanta, and ſhe died in her tender yeares. And thus of all theſe generations, Saturne ſuppoſed that none had béene reſerued but Iuno his daughter, whome he went oftentimes to viſite in Parthenie, where he did it to be nouriſhed with many noble virgins of her age, and alſo many ancient gntlewomen, to induce and teach them gentleneſſe and vertue. But of all them I will a while tarrie nowe, and alſo of Iupiter, Neptune, and Pluto. And now I will ſhew how Dardanus put his brother Iaſius to death, for couetouſneſſe to raigne in the Citie of Corinth: and how he departed out of Corinth, and how he ſet the firſt ſtone in the Citie of Dardane, which afterward was named Troy.

CHAP. V. ¶Howe after the death of King Corinthus of Corinth, his two ſonnes, Dardanus and Iaſius, ſtroue who of them ſhould haue the kingdome: and how Dardanus ſlue his brother Iaſius by treaſon, wherefore hee muſt depart out of the countrey.

IN this time when Crete began to bee a Realme, and a kingdome, and was in poſſeſſion of their firſt king, the ſame time in the Citie of Corinth which ſtand in Naples, reigned Corinthus their firſt king: and Corinthus had to his wife one of the daughters of king Atlas of Libie, named Electra. They reigned togither and atchieued proſperouſly their life: they left after them two ſonnes, whereof the one was named Dardanus, and that other Iaſius. Some ſay that this Dardanus was ſonne to Iupiter: but Boccace trowed he was lawfull ſonne of Corinthus (as it appeareth in the ſixt booke of the genealogie of gods) Dardanus then and Iaſius, (after the death of their father Corinthus, and of their mother Electra) woulde ſuccéed in the realmes, and in no wiſe they could accord. Dardanus had a high and hautie courage, and Iaſius in likewiſe. They argued and ſtroue togither, the one againſt the other, oftentimes of this matter, and conſpired and made ſecret menaſſes vnder couert, in ſuch wiſe that Dardanus on a day aſſembled all the people that he could get, for to deſtroy his brother Iaſius, and his friends were then aſſembled in a ſecret place, for to treate the peace, and to ſée how they might content and pleaſe Dardanus.

Whan Iaſius ſawe his brother come all in armes, all his bloud beganne to change, and ſéeing that his Brother was mooued and full of euill will, déeming that this matter ſhould turne to great miſchiefe, he cried and ſaid: Alas, what auaileth for to ſpeake and counſaile, and ſéeke meanes of peace betwéene my brother and me: we be betrayed, lo héere is my brother that commeth vpon vs all in armes, each man ſaue himſelfe that may. With theſe wordes Dardanus came in to the conſiſtorie, ſmote his brother vnto death, and ſaid: Iaſius, thou maiſt not abſtaine thy ſelfe from thy imaginations: Thou haſt enhaunſed thy ſelfe againſt me, but now I ſhall make an end of thée. Iaſius fell downe dead among the feete of his friendes, and their cloths were all beſprent and be-bled with his bloud. When the friendes of Iaſius ſawe this tyranny, they ſaued themſelues as well as they could to their power, and fled from thence all enraged. Then Dardanus returned to the royall Pallace, and the friendes of Iaſius gathered them, and went to armes, and made a noyſe, and murmur ſo great, that in little ſpace all the Citie was ſtrangely troubled for the death of Iaſius, which was greatly in the grace and fauour of all the people of Corinth. For when they had rehearſed the death of Iaſius, they tooke great ſorrow, and menaced Dardanus to death. And forthwith in effect they aſſembled by great routs in the ſtréetes, and ſaid one to the other: Alas now is dead the loue of Corinthus, that had more amitie and loue to the common weale then Dardanus: Let vs go and auenge his death: Go wee and puniſh the malefactour; let vs no longer tarrie: we ſhall do a meritorie worke. Who that euer doth iniuſtice and tyranny, is not worthie to be chiefe and head of clemencie, nor of iuſtice. If we ſuffer a murderer to raigne ouer vs, neuer ſhall there good come thereof. Where the head is ſicke and euill the members may not bee whole nor good. Dardanus hath ſlaine his Brother Iaſius wrongfully. It is verie likelie, that hee ſhall ſlea vs after his will. Let vs take from him his puiſſance, and let vs ſhew that we be men, deſtroyers of vice and enemies vnto all them that ſéeke and engender tyranny in their courages.

Such were the clamours of the Corinthians: by ſuch noyſe and ſemblable clamours, they chafed themſelues, and in the end aſſembled in one place, and were of ardent appetite, to correct the malefactour Dardanus, and his complices. In this tempeſt and ſwelling furour, they went to the Pallace where Dardanus had put himſelfe for refuge, but they founde the gates ſhutte, and could not enter into it: wherefore they beſieged the place making a great noyſe, and ſo great ſtirre, that Dardanus was abaſhed, and anon hee aſſembled his friendes and aſked them their counſell. They anſwered and ſaid, that he and they were in great aduenture and perill, and that the people ſo mooued, might not lightly be appeaſed, and for this they ſaid to him: ſaue thy ſelfe, and vs alſo with thée: Thou haſt ſlaine thy brother Iaſius, whom the people loued maruailouſly for his benignitie? the treſpaſſe is great, ſéeing it is ſo doone, the beſt way ought to be taken: we counſell thée that thou leaue this Pallace, and finde manner to iſſue out, and wee ſhall follow thée, and go with thée, and ſearch our aduentures in other lands: for it ſhall be great paine, by poſſibilitie, euer to content and appeaſe this people: For it is ſo, that the Corinthians be terrible to all men that they haue inhate and in deſpight.

Dardanus hearing theſe wordes, beganne to ſigh, and conſidering that hee muſt depart from his Citie by his miſdéede, fault, and deſert, hee ſmote himſelfe on the breſt and ſaide: Ha fortune vnſtedfaſt, what is mee befall? My hands be foule and filthie, with the bloud of my lawfull brother. The inſurrcetion, and the rebellion of my people, hanging before mine eies, it is force that I flée for to ſaue my life, and purpoſe to liue of rauin and theft. What miſchance? what euill happe is this? Since it is ſo, I yéeld me fugitiſe, and ſhall go my way, at all aduentures be it. When the friendes of Dardanus had vnderſtoode that hee was concluded and purpoſed to ſaue his life, they ioyned to him, and appointed togither that the next morning, in the firſt breaking of the day, they would departe from the Pallace, and take the aduenture to paſſe by their enemies, ſaying, that if they might eſcape, they would go to the riuage of the ſea, and take the kings barge. And all they ſware to helpe and companie each other vnto the death. The night paſſed, the day appeared, and then Dardanus that had not reſted that night to his pleaſure, but had watched with his armed men, and were readie to take the aduenture that the gods and fortune would giue and ſend them, iſſued out of the pallace, and found the moſt part of his enemies aſleepe: he thruſted among the villaines, and paſſed forth with little reſiſtance (that notwithſtanding, the waking Corinthians) he came to his royall ſhip, and tooke the ſea, and ſaued himſelfe, whereof the Corinthians had great ſorrow.

When Dardanus ſawe that he was ſo quit of the fauour of the Corinthians, he went ſailing by the ſea, and landed firſt at the port of the Citie of Samos, being in Thrace, & there vitailed him, and went to ſea againe, and arriued in Aſia, in a quarter where the land was ioyning to the ſea of Helleſpont: And finding this land right good and fruitful for to enhabite, he made there his habitation, and there ſet the firſt ſtone of a right great citie that he beganne, and after finiſhed. This Citie was that time named Dardane, after the name of Dardanus, but afterward it was called Troy. Dardanus peopled and filled his Citie with men and women, which he gate by ſwéeteneſſe and faire promiſes And the other part he conquered by force, theft and pillage. He made himſelfe king of Dardane, and ditched the Cittie about with great ditches. After lōg time he paſſed out of this world, and left a ſonne of his wife Candama, that was ſecond king of Dardane. This king was named Erutonius, and raigned ſeauen yeare in augmenting and encreaſing his Citie and people, and at laſt came to the ende of his yeares: And there reigned after him Troos his ſonne. This Troos was the third king of Dardane, and was a ſtrong man fierce, and hardy in armes, and increaſed greatly his ſeignoury and his Crowne, inſomuch as the Dardanians ſaid, that there was no king but Troyes: and named them Troians. And thus was Troy enhaunced more then all the Realmes of Greece, ſo highly that the king Tantalus of Frigie had great enuie, and gaue his heart and courage how he might anull and put downe the name of Troy that was his neighbour. And began to aſſay to bring it downe, as heereafter ſhall be ſaid.

CHAP. VI. ¶Of the great warre that was moued betweene the Pelagiens, and Epiriens, and how king Licaon of Pelagy was deſtroyed by Iupiter, becauſe of a man put to him to hoſtage, which king Licaon did roſt.

THe wiſe and ſubtill Virgine Minerue (as ſaint Auſten rehearſeth) ſhewed her ſelfe in this time by the ſtang or riuer called Triton, by the greatneſſe and ſubtiltie of her engine: for ſhe found the manner to forge and make armes. And to this purpoſe, Ouide rehearſeth that ſhe had foughten againſt a Giant named Pallas, and ſlewe him by the flood of Triton. In the ſame time that the armes were founden, and the ſciences of Minerue where practiſed by all the world, a fierce diſcention engendred betwéene the Epiriens and the Pelagiens that after were named Archadians. And héereof maketh mention Boccace in the fourth booke of the genealogy of gods. Among the Pelagians raigned that time a king named Licaon, eldeſt ſonne of Titan. The Epiriens then enterpriſed vppon the Pelagiens, and ſo made that a right great noyſe aroſe and ſourded. For which cauſe they aſſailed each other by feats of armes, ſo felonious and aſyre, yt both parties ſuffered many foule mortall ſhoures. When the wiſe men of Epire, ſaw this warre ſo diſſolute, and that they of their partie had iniuſtly and vnrightfully vndertaken and begunne this warre, they knowledged their fault, and went to the king Lycaon, bearing branches of Oliue, in ſignification of peace and loue, and him required that he would condiſcend to accord and peace of both peoples. Lycaon conſidering that his people had as much loſt as woonne by this diſcention, and that the battailes were perillous, accorded to the Epitiens the peace, by condition that they ſhould deliuer him one of their moſt noble men, ſuch as he would demaūd, for to be his ſeruant a ſpace of time, in token that they had vnrightfully engendred this diſcention. The Epiriens conſented to this condition, and deliuered to king Lycaon in ſeruitude the moſt noble man among them: and thus ended the warre.

The tearme and the time drewe ouer, that the Epirien ſerued king Lycaon his due tyme: and then when the time was expired, the Epiriens aſſembled them togither, and by deliberation of councell, ſent an Ambaſſade to Lycaon, for to treate the deliuerance of the Epirien. Theſe Ambaſſadours departed from Epire, and came to Pelage, and ſhewed to the king, howe their man had ſerued as long as hee was bound: and required him that he would render and deliuer him, and ratifie the peace, to the ende that euer after that they might bee the more friends togither. When Lycaon that was hardie of courage, fierce and euill vnto all men, and alſo vnto his owne people, vnderſtoode the wordes and requeſtes of the Epiriens, hée had great ſorrow and anger in himſelfe, and ſayde to them with his mouth (thinking contrarie with his heart) that on the morrow hee would feaſt them, and haue them to dinner, and then he would doo like as they had demaunded. With theſe wordes the Epiriens departed ioyouſly fro the preſence of King Lycaon, and on the morrow they came to the feaſt that was richlie ordayned, and made for them in great plentiouſneſſe, which was right fayre at the beginning, and in the ende right foule and abhominable: for when it came to the performing of the feaſt, the king Lycaon roſe from the Table, and went vnto the Kitchen, and there tooke the bodie of the Epirien, his ſeruant that hée had murthered the ſame night, and all roſted and ſodden, brought it in a great platter to the feaſt, and preſented it to the Epiriens, ſaying: lo, here is the Epirien that hath ſerued mee, which was cauſe of the eſchuing of the ruine and perdition of Epire. I ſaide yeſterday, that I would deliuer him this day: take him who ſo wil, I diſcharge & quit my hands frō him, and will him no more.

All they that then were preſent, as well his ſeruants as ſtraungers, as well Epiriens as Pelagiens, had anon great horrour, when they heard and vnderſtoode the wordes of king Lycaon: they had great ſhame and furor to beholde ſo ſhamefull and abhominable a worke, and outrageous ſinne: and were ſo troubled, that the blood went fro their faces, and they laid their hands afore their eies, as they that abhorred to beholde the poore martyr Epirien. And there was no man wiſt what to ſay of the infamie of king Lycaon, vnneth. When the king ſaw them ſo troubled, and that euery man began to frowne and grudge apart, he left them, and went from thence into his chamber: and then euery man roſe from the Table, abhorring and eſchewing the ſent and ſauour of the dead man, and would haue departed and gone their way all confuſe, had not Iupiter the ſon of Saturne béene, which the Epiriens had brought with them in their legation and Ambaſſage, foraſmuch as hée was a fayre childe, amiable and gentle. He then when hée ſawe that euerie man drewe a part his way, put himſelfe in the middeſt of the Epiriens, and began beganne his glorious enterpriſes, and ſaid to them in this wiſe: O what is this? Where is the blood of the Epiriens? Are they baniſhed out of hardineſſe? bée they exiled out of valour, and of honeſtie? Which be the Epiriens that by force will expoſe themſelues to the vengeaunce of ſo foule and horrible a déede? This caſe is not to bee borne. And the terribleneſſe of the tyrant Lycaon, is not to be bettered, when it bydeth vnpuniſhed. Ye ſée that the Pelagians make ſemblance that they be euil apayed with him: he muſt be puniſhed. I ſay, as for me I ſhall neuer haue pleaſure in my life, till I ſée him reſtrained of his tyrannie.

What time the Epiriens had conceiued the great courage of Iupiter that was ſo young of age, they thanked their gods of that, that they had brought him with them, and ſaid to him all with one voyce: Childe, bleſſed bee the wombe that bare thée, and bleſſed bee the gods that foreſéeing this iniurie and wrong to vs, haue ſo inſpired vs, for to bring thée with vs. We had béene nowe without courage, hardineſſe and will to doo well, and had not béene ſo hardie, to haue taken any tearme of vengeaunce. Thy wordes haue awaked and quickened our ſpirites, which were deade and a ſléepe, and had paſſed by the counterpeyſed infamie of the tyrant Lycaon. Thy hardineſſe hath made vs hardie: thy valiancie hath made vs valiant, and l • uers of valiancie: and, thy wiſedome hath inlumined vs. In this caſe, thou ſhalt be conductor and leader of this worke, and commander, and we ſhall obey vnto thée. &c.

Iupiter anſwered and ſayde: worſhipfull Lordes and ſirs, I am not wiſe inough to receyue the honour that yée do me: nor my tender yeares ſhall not accept it. Alway by fourme of counſell humbled vnder all correction, I will well ſay to you that me thinketh expedient for to be doone. If ye find no man ſay better, then you ſhall do by my councell and aduiſe: yee ſhall take this poore Epirien, in the ſame eſtate that hee is deliuered to you, and beare him vnto the common place of this Citie: for it is this day Sabboth and holyday, the Pelagians beene there in great number and multitude, paſſing their time with diuerſe playes and ſports. Then ye ſhall ſhew this poore dead man: for it is ſayde that the King is not well beloued with his owne people for his vnmanlie workes, and this miſdéed and treſpaſſe is paſſing foule and pitious: anon as they ſhall knowe what hee hath done, by this foule worke: ye ſhall well ſée if they will take in this ſinne, pleaſure or diſpleaſure. If pleaſure, then it were in vaine and follie for to ſpeake thereof, for this preſent time any more, but wée muſt ſéeke remedie, in our returne to Epire. If they take diſpleaſure, ye may plainly diſcouer your courages, and prouoke and call them to purge this crime that is ſo curſed: and I wéen that they ſhall right lightly intend to vs: And, for none amytie that is betwéene him and them, he ſhall not dominere nor reigne ouer them by tyrany: For, he is not their naturall Lord: but, he is the ſonne of Titan, brother of Saturne: And, is not King by election: but by force.

All they that heard Iupiter thus ſpeake, meruailed greatly of him, and accorded them to his councell, in ſuch wiſe that no man contraryed it nor agayn ſayde it. And ſo ſodainly they tooke the murdred Epirien, and bare him to the common place, and there they ſhewed him openly in euery mans ſight. When the Pelagiens ſaw this dead man, of whome the ſkin was ſcorched, the fleſh roſted, the knowes ſhronken, and that the bones appeared by the ioyntures: they aſſembled all about him in great number, and caſting their eyes vpon him, they had ſo great horror, abhominacion and abaſhment, that their heartes trembled, playning eche to other: and many went away for compaſſion, wept, and araged trembling for anger. And, other tooke duſte and powder and caſted into the ayre in ſigne of ſorrow, cutting their clothes, and ſaying, lifting their hands on high. O goddes almightie, what people bée theſe Epiriens? Haue they roſted a mannes body, and haue brought it to fore vs? What meane they? are we eaters of mannes fleſh? or bring they it to vs to ſhewe the cruelty of their courage? or come they for to eate this dead man among vs, for to feare vs withall?

Iupiter there being awayting, and laying his eares, and ſeing with his eyes the maner of the Pellagiens, and their countenaunces, concerning that they condeſcended in the condemnacion and enimitie of him that wrought this piteous worke: when he had heard their reaſons, and had ſéene their woondrings, he adreſſed himſelfe among them, and ſaid in this wiſe: O ye men of Pelage, meruaile you of this vnmanly and vnnaturall worke? Haue ye not enough learned and knowen the tyrannies of your king Lycaon? he hath murthred this man, and this man is the Epirien that was deliuered to him at the treatie of the peace of you and of vs, for to ſerue him. Lo this is the guerdon and rewarde that he hath done to him. He hath tiranniſed right euill, and hath doone him euill for good. O what great infamye is it to you, that the people and folke of euery other citie, haue reigning ouer them kings, noble men and vertuous: and they be crowned by election for their vertuous déedes? ye be different from them and all of another nature: A Tyrant is your king: a murtherer, an vniuſt man, a ſinner worthy of infamous death, and vnworthy for to be left aliue vppon the earth. Conſider: yea conſider, vnder whoſe hand ye be, and how nighe ye finde your ſelfe in maladye and perill of death. When the head aketh, all the other members ſuffer payne: then ye may not be whole and ſound. What ſhall we now doo, thinke ye, and councell ye vs? we come to you for refuge, and to demaunde you, how we ought to do and behaue vs againſt one that is ſo foule a king as is Lycaon. Tell vs the very truth. If ye confeſſe the truthe, and that ye be louers of reaſon, iuſtice and of equitie: ye ſhall iudge and condemne him, ye ſhall lay your handes and puiſſances in correction of him, and ſo ye ſhalbe r •• of his malice.

Anon as the Pelagiens vnderſtoode of Iupiter, that Lycaon their king had committed this vilanous crime, alſo that he had preſented to the Epiriens the body of their fréend ſo dead, they being at table: they condemned his ſinne, and murmured againſt him, ſaying, that they would no more be gouerned and noriſhed vnder the rodde of ſo peruerſe and infamous a tirant: and ſaid to the Epiriens, that they would abide by them, and ſtand theyr fréendes. With theſe wordes Iupiter put himſelfe among the Epiriens, and by his hardineſſe admoniſhed them to conſpire againſt their king. With which conſpiracion accorded all they of the Citie. And the wordes of Iupiter were ſo agréeable to them, and his maners, that they put in his hande the death and deſtruction of their king Licaon. And to the ende that he ſhould truſt and haue affiance in them, they ſent for their armes and habillementes of warre, and armed them. After, they aſſembled aboute Iupiter, and ſaid to him, that he ſhould be their captaine and their conducter, to achieue this ſayde worke.

Iupiter being ioyous of ſo great an honour and woorſhip, excuſed himſelfe. But his excuſations had no place, the Epiriens and the Pelagiens ordeyned and conſtituted him head ouer them. And he being conſtituted in his dignitie, ſet his people in order, and after did them to marche toward the pallace. They had not long gone on the way, when they ſawe King Lacaon iſſue out of his pallace with great company of his fréendes all armed, as they that had bin aduertiſed of the ſayd conſpiratiō made againſt Lycaon: and féeling that his enemies came for to aſſaile him, for to ſhewe himſelfe a man of fierce courage, came againſt them, wéening preſumtuouſlie for to haue ouercome them. And anon, as they began to approche, they challenged ech other to the death without other councel: And ſtrongly moued, they aſſembled to a battayle that was right meruailous ſharpe.

Lycaon did ſet and lead his people, in order againſt Iupiter. They medled them haſtely togither with little ſtrife of wordes: and with great ſtrife of armour and ſtrokes.

The ſtrife coſt much, but in eſpeciall to Lycaon: for his people were leſſe in puiſſance and myght, then the men of Iupiter, which were ſtronge and of greate enterpriſe: ſo they fought and ſmote vpon the Pelagiens and caſte them downe nowe héere, nowe there, ſo fiercelye and ſo vnmeaſurablye that none might abyde that was there before them. Amonge all other Iupiter did woonders and meruailes: by his well doing he put Lychaon in a paſſing great diſtreſſe and noyance. And in this great anoye, he purſued paſſing faſt, for to haue come runne vpon him. But when the falſe tyrant ſawe him come, and he ſawe that Iupiter ſet his ſtrokes ſo mightely that all them that he raught were ſmitten down to the earth and cō founded, then all his heart began to fayle him, and went on the other ſide: and he had not long abidden there, when that Iupiter had vanquiſhed and ouerthrowen the Pelagiens, and made them to flée from the place before him, like as it had bin the thunder of tempeſt.

In this maner, when Lichaon ſawe his complices and fellowſhip in ſuch extremitie, he fled himſelf, not as a king, but as a poore man out of comfort and hope, ſo deſolate as he durſt take none of his complices with him to helpe him away, nor to comfort him. He doubted Iupiter as the death: he (ſo flying away as is ſaid) durſt not enter his pallace, but iſſued out of the citie and went vnto a great Forreſt that was nighe by: and from thence foorth he was a brygand and a théefe, and for this cauſe the poets fayne that he was turned into a wolfe: that is to ſaye, he liued as a wolfe, of praies and roberies. Albeit to confirme this mutacion, Leoncius rehearſeth, that Lichaon ſo flying, as ſaide is, fearing to be ſued after of Iupiter & to be put to death, put himſelf in a riuer or a great lake, and there ſaued himſelfe: where féeling that the water of that riuer had a ſingular propertie, that is to wit, that the men that putte themſelues in that water, ſhould be turned into wolues for the terme of nine yeares, and the nine yeares expired, if they would put themſelues in the water after that againe, they ſhould recouer againe their firſt likeneſſe. And ſo it might well be doone, for Lichaon put himſelfe into the water, and was tranſformed to a wolfe by ſpace aboue ſaide, and liued of theft and pillage in the woods and forreſts, wayting oft times how the Pelagiens gouerned themſelues: and in the end when he had accompliſhed his penaunce, he returned into the riuer and tooke againe his mans forme, and knowing that the citie of Pelage might neuer be recouered, he returned poore and wretched vnto his father Titan, of whom I will ſay a little, and ſhall tell, how Iupiter began to be amorous on Caliſto daughter of the ſayd Lycaon, &c.

CHAP. VII. ¶How Iupiter after the diſcomſiture of King Lycaon, tranſformed himſelfe into ſhape of a religious woman, waiting on the goddeſſe Diana, for the loue of Caliſto daughter of the ſaid Lycaon, and did with her his will.

AFter the diſcomfiture of King Lycaon, which was tranſformed into ſhape of a wolfe, and began to be a rauiſhour of the ſubſtance of men of the countrey, eater of their children, and murderer of wilde beaſtes, that he oft times aſſayled by rage of hunger, which conſtrained him to cheriſh and kéepe his miſerable life: when the Epiriens ſaw that Iupiter had vanquiſhed their enimies, and that he abode mayſter in the place, they brought him with great ioye and glorye to the Pallace, and ſought long Lycaon, firſt in the place where the battayle had bin, and after that, in the chambers of the Pallace: but they founde him not quicke nor dead, nor coulde heare no tidings of him.

And it happened, that as Iupiter ſought him thus from chamber to chamber, he found in the higheſt tower, the daughter of the king Lycaon, named Caliſto, which was paſſing fayre, yong and freſh of colour. The damoſel bewept right ſorowfully the leſſe of her father, which ſhe had al newlye vnderſtood. When Iupiter ſaw her ſo deſolate and diſcomforted, he ſet him downe by her and ſaid: Damoſel comfort your ſelfe, and ſpeake to mee, and ceaſe your wéeping. Alas ſir (ſayde the Damoſell) howe ſhould I recomfort my life? The Epiriens haue ſlaine the king my father. Ought I to take conſolation in his ruine? Ought I not to be angrie? ought mine heart to be without ſorrow, my ſtomake without ſighs, and mine eyes without wéeping? An hundred thouſand infortunes trauerſe my bodie, and trouble me: And I ſée me ſo poore a gentle Damoſell, daughter of a king, that I deſire more death, then life, and am more in wanhope, then in hope.

When Iupiter knewe by the wordes of this Damomoſell, that ſhée was Daughter of King Licaon, hée had more great pittie of her then hee had before, for as much as ſhe was Daughter to the king, and ſaide to her: Damoſel appeaſe your heart: I wote well that it is of force that nature acquite himſelfe: but yée ought to conſider the inordinate workes of your Father, which yée are bound to bewaile. Hee was a leſſe reaſonable man then a king ought to be. Hee is not dead: he hath put himſelfe in ſome place ſecret to ſaue himſelfe: his ſinnes were too infamous, and who ſhall bewaile and ſorrow him? The Gods and Fortune haue ſuffered the ouerthrowe and caſting downe of his pride and of his tyrannie. It is a right other wiſe thing that ye take it: haue patience in his righteous aduerſitie: For his demerites giue you cauſe to take patience, where as nature enclineth you to vnpatience: and yet ye ought not to bee vnpatient for his reprehenſion and caſting downe: For, it is ſo, that the loſſe of a tyrant turneth all a Countrey to ioy. O then comfort your ſelfe Damoſell: The outragious ſinnes, nor the vnmanly furours of your Father, nor his ſhamefull deedes, ſhall nothing be hurtfull vnto you, nor turne to your preiudice: no man ſhall miſlay nor do to you, nor touch you in any maner of wiſe, I aſſure you certainly.

Syr, anſwered the maide, I thanke you of your courteſies, and of the faire wordes which ye pro • er, and ſay vnto mee. I wote well that my pouertie hath made mee indigne and vnworthie, but ſince I ſée that the infortune of my father is irreuocable, and that his infelicitie is paſt remedie, I renounce the world, and pray you that it pleaſe you to intreate for mee vnto the Epiriens, that I might go yéeld my ſelfe into the religion of dame Diana the noble Virgin, Daughter of the wiſe Iupiter, ſometime king of Attique, and borne in this land. Wherevppon ought to bee remembred, that right anciently iſſued out of Pelage, a wiſe noble man named Iupiter, of whome Boccace maketh mention in the firſt booke of the genealogie of Goddes, which Iupiter was King of Attique, who for as muche as hee induced the people to honeſt lawes, and did firſt ordaine and halowe marriage: For before that time the (Atticiens married them not, but vſed women in common) and of this Iupiter came a Daughter named Diana, the which willing to abide in the ſtate of virginitie, made a cloyſter in the Woods of Archadie, where ſhee aſſembled many Virgins that paſſed their time, with hunting and chaſing the wilde beaſtes. For to turne to our purpoſe: this noble Virgin Diana, liued the ſame time of the ſubuerſion of the reigne of Lichaon. When Iupiter vnderſtoode of Caliſto, that ſhe would yéeld her ſelfe with the Virgins, he behelde her, and ſaide vnto her: and howe Damoſell be yee ſo deſpayred for a little tribulation that toucheth not your perſon? ye bée young and faire, among none o • you that ſo go into Religion, may growe no fruite of children. Aduiſe you well, It were better that yee abode among the worldly people, that repleniſh the world. Many women, and alſo men, enter into Religion in their youth, and repent them in their age. Syr, ſayde Caliſto, tempt me no more. If there be any gentlenes in you, receiue the praier and requeſt of one ſo deſolate and infortunate gentlewoman, more deſirous of the health of my ſoule, then of temporall pleaſures. During theſe deuiſes, Iupiter, behelde without ceaſing this damoſel, and could not enough complayne her beautie: for as much as ſhe would into religion, with great paine, when he had heard her anſwers, and had ſéene how ſwéetely ſhe had taken it, and woulde not be turned from her will: he ſaid to her, that her requeſt ſhoulde bée accompliſhed. Then he called the Epiriens, and required them that they would be content to ſuffer this virgin to enter into religion. What ſhall I ſay? The Epiriens put the requeſt in the will of Iupiter: and Iupiter did ſo much, that ſhée was conducted, and led into the religion of virgins. After, he ſearched all the Pallace of King Lycaon, and made the Epiriens to ſeiſe his richeſſe. And there Iupiter abode a certayne time, with ſo great worſhip, that the Pelagiens and the Epiriens would haue crowned him to be their king: But he would neuer conſent thereto: as he that conſidered ouer his young age, and the variations of fortune, and ſayd, that it auayleth more to a man, and is to him more ſure, to be made king in his old age, then in his youth, for the diuers perils that may fall. Alway he accorded that he would be Captayne of the realme, and was a man of great iuſtice, ſwéete and curteous vnto al maner of people, &c.

This was the firſt comming vp of this noble Childe. When he had brought in ſubiection to his pleaſance the Pelagiens, he buried the Epirien that Lycaon had murthered, as it is ſayde before, and did his obſequye ſolemnlye, and after he did burne into aſhes the Pelagiens, that had béene ſlaine in the helpe of Lycaon. And after that he ſent word, and did all theſe things to be knowne and ſhewed to the Epiriens that were left at home in Epire, as to the King Meliſeus: whereof all the Epiriens, and the king Melliſeus gaue thankes vnto their goddes. But for as much as I muſte tell all: after this he gaue not his heart and courage ſo much to accompliſhe theſe thinges, but that otherwhile hée gaue himſelfe to remember and to thinke on the beautie that hée had ſéene in the religious Caliſto, whereby the ſparkles of loue enuironed ſtrongly his heart, in ſuch wiſe that day and night, hée wiſhed her in his armes, and repented him that he had conſented that ſhe went into religion. And ſo laboured in this maner, that his reſt in the night was taken from him, and he was not nowe his owne man, ſo encreaſed he to loue and deſire this virgin: and for to ſée her, he made hir paſtime to haunt the wooddes, and continually to hunt the wilde beaſtes in the Forreſt with Dame Diana, where, by Fortune and aduenture otherwhile hée recountred and mette the maide Caliſto. And when hée had once ſéene her, that day hee was all ioyous. And if he ſawe her not, hee had aboundaunce of many thoughts, that ranne readily in his minde. I may not all day tarrie on this matter. Hee thought ſtill howe he might come to the grace of this religious Caliſto, and all thoughts reduced and brought into one, he concluded on a day in himſelfe, that hee would put him in the habite of a religious woman, and would go into the Cloiſter of dame Diana, faigning to be a woman, and requiring to be receiued with the virgins.

This concluſion taken and ratified in Iupiter, by many deliberations in diuerſe dayes, hée did make his womans cloathing by a ſec • ete workeman, which promiſed him to kéepe his ſecrete • . When his cloathing was made, he aſſembled the Epiriens in •• euening, and tooke his leaue of them for a certaine time, ſaying: that he would go alone, for to doo certaine ſecrete things. The Epiriens were all diſmayed and deſolate, when they heard the intention of Iupiter: and prayed to the gods that they would conduct and ſpéed him in his iourney: requiring him inſtantly, that he woulde returne ſhortly againe to them. And he promiſed them that hee ſo would: and then hee withdrewe him into his Chamber, and tooke the keyes of the great gate, and on the morrow betimes, when he was arayed and dreſſed in the veſture and cloating of a mayd, he departed from thence alone, and entred into the woodde, and ſo behaued himſelfe that hée came to the habitation of the religious maydens. Iupiter had yet no beard, and was white and fayre coloured in the viſage. When he came vnto the religion, he knocked at the gate, and then came to him a paſſing fayre mayde named Athalanta, that after was wife vnto the king Meleager of Achay. And ſhée demaunded him, what hee would. Iupiter aunſwered: noble virgin, Alas I am a poore woman of a noble houſe: I haue auowed to the gods my virginitie: I pray you that you will preſent mee vnto the Ladie of this place, to the ende that I might ſerue the gods, and be of the number of the other virgins. And, if it pleaſe the goddes, I ſhall deſerue it at your hands. Athalanta moued with compaſſion to the maide, accorded him his requeſt, and preſented him to Dame Diana. Iupiter ſpake all ſo ſwéetely and demurely, and made ſo humble and feminine manners, that he ſéemed properly to be a maide. Diana be helde him well and long, and ſaid, that ſhe had neuer ſéene ſo faire a maide, nor ſo great: and then welcommed him, and receyued him. Then Iupiter thanked Dame Diana of her grace, and Athalanta of her courteſie, and had good hope in his enterpriſe, when he ſawe himſelfe ſo ſoone receyued without knowing. Then Iupiter began to learne to ſpinne, and to worke in ſilke, and to do the exerciſes of maydens. And it became him as well as he had béene a mayd. He was humble, and of ſolitarie conuerſation: he laboured with his handes, with his eyes, and his heart: with his handes hee made corporall workes, with his eyes hee behelde oft tymes ſecretly the beautie of Caliſto, and with his heart, imagining and plotting howe and by what meane hee might beguile and deceyue Caliſto, hee oft tymes conuerſed, and fellowſhipt with her.

His heart was alway in right great paine: otherwhile he was moued with great heauines, and otherwhile in comfort & hope to ſpéed well: and wiſt not what to ſay nor do, foraſmuch as ſhame and dread were more in him than hardines. What ſhal I ſay more he was lōgin this pain, more doubtful & ſhamefaſt thē hardy. But in the end he aduētured himſelf, and finding on a day Caliſto beſide a well where ſhe refreſhed her, as ſhe that was weary that had runne long with dame Diana, chaſing then and hunting a wilde beaſt: hee ſate him downe by her and ſaide: My ſiſter Caliſto, I yéeld me to thee, and to thy grace. I am a man, and no woman: thy beautie hath ouercome my courage. For to come to the point where we he now, I haue clothed me like a woman and a maid. Alas I require thée, that thou receiue me vnto thy loue, ſo ſhall we liue togither in the religion, and we ſhall take our ſports and pleaſures. A man hath nothing in this worlde but his life. They that haue more pleaſure then that, they be iudged ſo much more fortunate and happie. Thou haſt withdrawen thée thither for diſpleaſure: and looſeſt thy flouriſhing youth. Caliſto, I cannot inough complaine, nor bewaile this dammage. I may not prayſe thée inough, I haue bin ſo deſirous to find thée in ſecret places, that the force of my will hath made me do this, and that I haue enterpriſed this aduenture, hoping in fortune that ſhe ſhall giue me grace, & ſuffer our youthes to be vſed togither ſecretly. For we may commune togither the one with the other, without knowing of any perſon, not only in the chambers, but alſo in the buſhes of this wood. O my ſiſter, take héed what I ſay: and as I receiued and furthered of late thy requeſt, I pray thée receiue and allow the requeſt without diſdaine, of him that thou maiſt ſée is very louer of thée.

When Caliſto had heard Iupiter and knew that he was a man, ſhe was afraide, and roſe vp, wéening to haue fled, but ſhe might not, for Iupiter held her faſt by the clothing, and made her to ſit downe by him, clipping her about the necke, and kiſſed her by force, ſo much that Caliſto cried out and ſaid. O Iupiter, what folly is this? wéeneſt thou that I am ſo to bee ouercome of thy flattering wordes? I had much leuer the earth woulde open, and ſwallow mee vppe into his wombe. My ſiſter (anſwered Iupiter) there is no remedie that may let that my will bee accompliſhed? yee ſhall do my will and pleaſure, be it by force, or be it by loue. with theſe words Caliſto began to crie with al her might: and Iupiter began to accompliſh his pleaſure of her. There was neither man nor woman there abouts that heard it, notwithſtanding that the crie of Caliſto was great. So Iupiter did his will of his bodie, and knew her fleſhly, and engendred on her a ſon. After, he comforted her, and promiſed to helpe her in all thinges, and to take her to his wife, if ſhe would returne to the world with him. But his faire ſpéech, nor his promiſes might not comfort her, nor for nothing that he could do or ſay, he could not come into the grace of Caliſto. And alway ſhe ſware great oathes, that ſhee would complain vnto her miſtreſſe Diana. And made ſo much adoo, that Iupiter departed from her all diſpleaſed for her diſpleaſure. And then he went by the woodes, thinking what was him befall, and alſo what he had to do.

CHAP. VIII. ¶How Caliſto, for aſmuch as ſhe was with childe, the goddeſſe Diana put her out of the order, and of her company.

AT this time began to riſe in ye mind of Iupiter many thoughts, & for the better, he concluded in himſelf to returne to Pelage from whence he came. And then, for becauſe that hee was diſpleaſed with himſelfe for the enforſing of his Ladie, dame Caliſto by loue, hee departed from the wood, and ſo haſted on his way, that hee was on the morne among the Epiriens in his firſt habite. When the Epiriens ſawe Iupiter come againe, they made him right great chéere, and great honor. And the ſame day Iupiter fained him, that he would go on hunting, and ſo went and found means to ſpeake with Caliſto, and required her that ſhe would be his loue: but ſhe in no wiſe would aſſent to him. He returned from the chaſe ſo gréeued, that for to paſſe his melancholy, he departed out of the country. The fourth day following after that, he ordained there folke that gouerned the people, and returned into the houſe of king Melliſeus, who receiued him as his ſon, and there he dwelled a long time without aduentures, whereof any mention is made: and alſo Caliſto dwelled in peace a while: and when ſhe heard tell, and vnderſtood, that Iupiter was gone, ſhe was paſſing ioyous, for ſhe had leuer haue him far then nigh: alway the time paſſed, the fruit of her wombe grew: and the day came that Diana and Athalanta, with other virgins, perceiued that ſhe was with child: wherfore they aſſembled al in their Chapyter, and called Caliſto, and then ſpake Diana to her, and ſaid: Caliſto my daughter, thou haſt done fornication with ſome man, this fornication is not excuſable: The virgins of this place be ſorie for thy ſinne, and haue abhomination of thy ſhame. For this cauſe it is of force that thou departe out of this houſe: thou ſhalt be no longer their fellow. Thou haſt made thy ſelfe worthie to depart, by the breaking and looſing of thy virginitie. Take thine array, and go thy way into ſome place, where then maiſt be deliuered of the fruit that reſteth in thée, for thou ſhalt no longer be héere within.

When Caliſto heard the goddeſſe Diana, and knew that ſhe ſaid truth, great teares fel from her eies, and wéeping by great aboundance, excuſed her vpon Iupiter, rehearſing the abuſe and violence that ſhe had. Diana and the maidens had great maruaile of Iupiter, that had them ſo deceiued. Caliſto cried her mercie right humbly, and many times offered her ſelfe to the correction of the maidens. This notwithſtanding, albeit that ſhe was held excuſed, they receiued her not to mercie. She was condemned to go out of the cloyſter: and ſo much went the matter fort of that the poore religious woman departed from thence all bewept, and ſo aſhamed, that ſhe would not go to no towne, citie, nor houſe: but in a déepe caue that ſhe had ſeene afore time in the wood. And firſt ſhe made her prouiſion of hearbs and rootes, for as much as the winter was comming. After ſhe entred into the caue, and there ſhe held her ſo lōg time as the beare holdeth him in his den: wherefore the Arcadiens fayned, that ſhe was turned into a beare. And it is not to be forgottē, that during this time ſhe was deliuered of a ſonne, which ſhe named Archas. This child was great and huge of members. Caliſto nouriſhed him among the wilde beaſtes, with rootes, fruites and hearbes, and of the proper meates and prayes that the cruel and terrible beaſts liued with▪ and there was no beaſte that did him any harme, nor none was ſo hardie to do him any gréeuance. And he was ſo cruel and fierceſ that at the age of ſeuen yeare, as his mother angred or troubled him on a day, he lifted vp himſelfe againſt her, and would haue ſlaine her. In ſo much that Caliſto was conſtrained to flée before him by the buſhes, and to iſſue out of the wood, and go to Iupiter, which at that time was in the citie of Pelage.

Are has purſued Caliſto his mother vntill he came within the citie, and ſo forth entred after her into the Pallace, and held in his hands two great round ſtones. When Caliſto entred into the pallace, by aduenture ſhe encountred and mette with Iupiter, whom ſhe knew: and ſhe knéeled downe on the earth before him, and required him with afrayed ſpirite, that he would do her iuſtice of her ſonne that would flea her. Iupiter that nothing knewe Caliſto, for aſmuch as ſhe was euil clothed and halfe wilde and ſauage, behelde the chylde, and made him be taken, and after he demaunded Caliſto what ſhe was? Sir (ſaid ſhe) I am' Caliſto, that for thy ſinne was long ſince baniſhed out of my religion. I haue had this childe of thy ſéede, ſuch as thou ſeeſt, this is thy ſonne. I haue nouriſhed him ſeuen yeares in the forreſt among wilde beaſts. He now would ſlea me, for aſmuch as I haue angred him: I pray ſhée ſaue my life. When Iupiter heard theſe wordes of Caliſto, he was right glad and ioyous, for it was ſayd that ſhe was dead; and he comforted her the beſt wiſe he could. After that he called Archas, and made the peace betwéene him and his mother, and did cauſe him to be clothed and reteyned him in his palace. And thēceforth the ſame Archas gouerned him ſo wel and ſo wiſely, that at the prayer and requeſt of the Pelagiens, Archas was made king of the countrey.

CHAP. IX. ¶How Titan aſſayled by warre his brother Saturne, for as much as he had not put to death all his Children males. &c.

IN this time that the young Archas was crowned king of Pelage, and that he named the Cytie Archadia after his name, the king Saturne was ſo great, and ſo puiſſaunt, that for to ample and increaſe the ſplendor of his natiuity, he named himſelfe Saturne ſonne of heauen, and of earth. But then as he began to ſtudy how and by what maner hée might exalt the ſplendour of his felicitie by diuine miſteries, fortune turned her backe to him warde. And as there is nothing in earth that may abide and endure: ſo it happend that Tytan was all acertained, that ye quene Cibell had diuerſe men children that ſhe did cauſe to be kepte ſecretly, and ſo had ſaued their liues. Boccace that recounteth this hiſtory, in the fourth booke of the genealogie of the goddes, ſayth not by what meane. Titan knewe this thing alwaye, eyther by ſuſpection or by enuy that he had of the glorye of Saturne his Brother, or by ſecret aduertiſement, Vnder this colour, he determined in his courage, that he woulde aſſayle Saturne by armes, and for this cauſe he did aſſemble on a daye al his ſonnes, and them required, that they would ayde and helpe him to get the land of Crete, ſaying that hée woulde make warre againſt Saturne his Brother: and that by right and iuſte tytle he had good cauſe, for he had not put to death dyuerſe men children that his wife Cibell had conceyued of his ſéede, like as he had promiſed and ſworne.

The children of Titan, the one was Lycaon: yt at this time was no lōger wolf nor king of Arcadia, another had to name Tiphon and was king of Sycilie and of Cipres: the thyrd was called Briarius, and was king of Nericos, the fourth was named Ceon, and was king of the Ile of Cea, the fifth was named Egeon, king of the Sea Egee, and of the Ile deſart, and the ſixt was named Eperion, king of Plipheros. When they had heard the will of their father, that had purueyed them all theſe Realmes, that hee had conquered after his departing out of Crete, they deſiring to pleaſe him, and coueting the recoueraunce of their auncient heritages, that were then of great renowme, ſayde to him as by one voyce, that they were readie to accompliſh his good pleaſure, and to go into Crete with armed hande, and ſware that they ſhould conſtraine Saturne to ſéeke and fetch his ſonnes, and perſecute them with his hand vnto death.

The olde Titan had in his heart great ioy, when he behelde the frée and great courages of his ſonnes. And there they promiſed and ſware togither, that they all ſhould imploy them to the recoueraunce of their heritages. After which communication, they ordayned in ſuch wiſe, that they gathered them togither at the port of Sicill, and ſent vnto their Lordſhips to aſſemble men of Armes, and of warre. They went and made ſuch diligence, and ſo exployted, that there were aſſembled great armour and harneſſe, and much people at the ſayd port. And when the day was come, they ſo deſired to labour this matter, that they departed from Sicill with a great hoſt, and tooke the Sea, and ſo made their iourneys with good ſpéede, that in fewe dayes they ſayled vnto Crete, at the port arriued and tooke land. And then entring fiercely into the land, they deſtroyed and waſted all afore them ſo cruelly, and continued in their warre ſo mortally, that they came vnto the Citie of Crete, where King Saturne dwelled and was reſident: and then Saturne was aduertiſed of their comming and diſcent. And Titan that might no further paſſe without battaile or aſſault, ſent to Saturne a letter, whereof the tenour followeth. O Saturne glutted with worldly he • our, and couetous of glorie: for as much as thou art occupter of the ſeignorie that by right belongeth to me Titan thy Lord and elder brother: furthermore, becauſe thou art falſ • ie periured, for thy wife hath diuerſe men children that thou haſt not put to death, in like wiſe as thou wert bound: knowe that I am come to take poſſeſſion of thy kingdome, not appertaining to thee, but to me. Wherefore, come to mercie, and méeke thy ſelfe to grace. Or elſe make thée ſure of thy perſon, for if it be poſſible for me, I will come and haue reaſon of thée.

When Saturne had read this letter, as a man all amazed, ſent for his wife Cibell, and tooke her apart, and adiured and charged her to ſay the truth, and tell him what ſhee had done with his children. With this charge the poore Ladie chaunged colour, and ſéeing that ſhe was conſtrayned to ſay the truth, ſhée ſaide: Sir, thou knoweſt that I am a woman, the heart of a woman naturally doth workes of pitie. Had not I béene in nature an abhominable monſter, if I ſhould haue deuoured with my hande the children of my wombe? where is that mother that will murther her children? Certes, my hand was neuer man-ſlear, nor neuer ſhall be. I haue erred againſt thy commaundement, in the fauour of nature: and ſince it muſt néedes be ſo, I had leuer to bee murthered then a murtherer: and to be named pitious, then cruell, for murther is crueltie appertaining to vnreaſonable beaſtes, and to tyrants: and pitie is naturally appertaining to a woman. And therefore I confeſſe to haue borne thrée ſonnes, conceyued of thy ſéede, which I haue cauſed to bee nouriſhed ſecretly: but demaund me no further, for where they bée, they ſhall liue, as long as it pleaſeth fortune, will Titan or not: and there is no death whereof any woman may bée tormented with, that ſhall make the places to bée diſcouered where they be.

Saturne hearing theſe wordes of his wife, was ſo aſtoniſhed, that hée wiſt not what to aunſwere. Notwithſtanding, for the better, he aſſembled all the wiſe men of his Citie, and to them ſaid: My brethren and friends, what is beſt to be done? Titan my brother hath begunne warre in this Realme: my wife hath confeſſed, that ſhee hath receiued of mee three Sonnes, which ſhee hath nouriſhed in a ſtraunge lande, vnder the colour that I ſhoulde not flea them. Titan aſſayleth mee. What ſhall wee do? Syr, aunſwered the wiſe men, where force is enhaunced by ouer great preſumption, there muſt bee policie to conduct wiſelie, and to put the hande to withſtande it. Thou haſt a ſtrong Citie, and fulfilled with great people: thou art wiſe for to gouerne them: put thy ſelfe in armes, and take no regarde to the quarell of Titan. A man is not woorthie to bee a King, but if it be in his vertue and gentle manners. Crete was neuer Realme but nowe. Titan hath béene all his lyfe inclined to vyces, and is all wrapped in ſinne, in which purpoſe hee ſéeketh to come to thy Crowne▪ If hee extoll himſelfe, thou muſt debaſe and put him downe. This is the remedie, helpe thy ſelfe, and we ſhall helpe thee. He that flyeth, cauſeth his enemies, to chaſe him. Thus nowe it may not be eſchewed, but wee muſt withſtande and aſſault our enemie, and that couragiouſlie. For what a man may do this day, let him not put it ouer till to morrow.

Arme thée then well and ſurely, and aſſayle from thy Citie thine enemies. If thou ſo do, thou ſheweſt thy courage to bée aduaunced greatly,, and not lightly to bée ouercome by any: and ſo thou mayeſt abate ſomewhat their pride and preſumption. If thou behaue otherwiſe thy ſelfe, and let them take their reſt, that ſhall bee matter and cauſe for to encourage them: vpon which they will waxe proud, hoping to come to their purpoſe, which ſhall bee to thée more harming then auaylable: For courage and hope oft tymes (men ſay) make men to attaine to become conquerours great and hie. Notwithſtanding, thou art king: thy will be accompliſhed and fulfilled.

Saturne aunſwered and ſayd. Brethren and friends, it were great ſhame to vs and our Citie, if we ſuffered it to bée diſſipate and deſtroyed. It is of force that the warre be begunne and open, and euerie man diſpoſe him to ſaue his worſhip. Titan aſſayleth mine honour, and requireth my diſhonour. Since it muſt bée that of this matter the armes and warre bée iudges, wee ſhall arme vs this houre, and purſue the intertainment of the right good aduenture of Fortune that ſhall come to vs. And my heart telleth mee, that as ſodainlie as our enemies bee entered into this lande, as ſodainlie wee ſhall make them to go and iſſue out agayne. With this anſwere all the wiſe and noble men of Crete tooke great pleaſure.

Then Saturne gaue the aunſwere to the Meſſenger of Titan, and ſayde vnto him: if Titan, returned not within two houres, that hee would come and take the battell agaynſt him. With this aunſwere the Meſſenger returned to Titan, and tolde him the intention of Saturne. Titan ſwore then that hee woulde neuer turne backewarde, till hee had attended and abiden the battaile. Saturne was a man of great valour, and hie will. When the Meſſenger of Titan was departed, hee made ſownd to Armes, at which ſownd the young and olde armed them, and made them readie. What ſhall I make long proceſſe? in ſhort tyme they were readie at the poynt: and when Saturne ſawe that his enemyes made no ſemblance to mooue, hee went and aſcended into his Chayre (for in this tyme the Kings went to battaile in Chayres.) After hée iſſued out of his Cittie, and raunged his people about him, and anon after hee cauſed them to march agaynſt his brother Titan, &c.

As ſoone as the Titanoys ſaw the Saturniens come, they were right glad, and made themſelues the greateſt chéere of the world, and moued themſelues ioyouſly againſt them: and with a great crie, they had great ſhéelds of trée, maces & pollares, and guiſarmes of ſtrange faſhions, and they were all on foote except Titan, and his ſons, which as kings had their Curres and Chayres, in which they were brought and carryed, not by the force of horſe, but by the puiſſaunce of men. They approched ſo nigh, that they came to fighting, and began to fall to worke: then the archers of king Saturne began to draw and ſhoote, and made the Tytanoys to ſtay and ſtand as long as their ſhot dured, and ſlew and hurt many of them. When the ſhot failed, the Tytanoys, that had great ſorrow for to be ſo ſerued of the Saturnyens, ordered themſelues again, and ſwore the one to the other, that they wold be auenged, and came forth and fought hand to hand: in which they beſtirred them ſo eagerly, that for the noyſe and dinne that their axes and guiſarmes ſmote vppon their ſhieldes, it ſéemed as it had béene thunder. At the encountering then the battaile was right fell: Lichaon, Egeon, Ceon, Tiphon, & Encheladus, were in the firſt front: there was many a ſhield broken, with the weight of clubs and polaxes, and many heades broken. Ceon and Tiphon, at the beginning maintained themſelues right valiantly, and conducted their folke all within the battaile by the rigour of their ſtrokes, inſomuch that whom they met of the Saturniens, they beate them downe. By their well doing they were knowen and doubted of their enemies, inſomuch that Saturn made his chaire to be led out of the way, for the great bruit and noyſe that they made about him. There was great effuſion of bloud, for the Tytanoys did what they could to haue endured in their bruit and crie: and the Saturniens with Saturne laboured for to abate it and breake it. And ſo the comming of Saturne was cauſe of proweſſe vpon proweſſe, and and of many one dead, and they intended one and other ſo buſily to their worke, that the moſt part of the day they fought ſo, that none might glorie for victorie, nor be troubled for diſcomfiture. But in the end when the Tytanoys ſawe the ſunne decline, as couetous of glorie and of worſhippe, at one crie that Titan made, vpon Saturne, Lichaon and Egeon, with many other encloſed about him (he being from his company, his chaire broken by force of polaxes) and gaue him many wounds: and finally they tooke him, and brought many of the Saturnyens to death, and ouerthrew them in diſcomfiture. And that worſe is, they were ſo diſcouraged, when they vnderſtoode that Saturne was taken, that they loſt the vigors and ſtrength of their hearts, and the might of their armes, & turned their backs and fled all ſo out of order, that the Titanoys entred with them into the Citie, and tooke it, and wanne it without any reſiſtance, beating downe the people, with great murther of men, women, and of ſmall children.

At this time men might ſée the Ladies and Matrones of Crete, take the duſt, and caſt it into the ayre, and runne by the ſtréetes, nowe here, and now there, all without kerchiefes, with theyr haire hanging about their heades, caſting away their attyre, and their little Children crying after them. The wiſe men of the Towne, ſéemed out of their wittes, and the Citie was ſo troubled, that they might not be more. Among all other, Cibell, Veſca, and Ceres, made great ſorrow likewiſe, without ceaſing: for Titan, that neuer loued them, came then into the pallace, and put in priſon Saturne and his wife, and ſwore they ſhould neuer depart thence, till they had put to death all their ſonnes that were come of them. And furthermore, Titan did cauſe himſelfe to be crowned king of Crete. So auailed not the infinite praiers and oriſons that Dame Veſca made to Titan, in the compaſſion of her ſonne Saturne, and of Cibell, for theyr deliuerance: nor the fayre ſpeaking of Ceres, nor the teares mooued of charitie, were of no value. The more praiers that they made vnto Titan, the more found they him vncourteous, fellon and hard hearted. Hee did execute and put to death all them that helde or were appertaining to the partie of Saturne: and by the ſpace of foure dayes vexed and troubled Crete, in robbing and ſhedding the bloud of the Citizens: and he perſecuted not onely the men, but • o women and children, and tooke theyr goods, and departes among them that helde on his partie. When Veſca ſawe all theſe things happen in the Citie, and that her ſonne Titan gouerned him ſo maliciouſlie, and alway woorſe and woorſe, without any compaſſion on the people, ſhée came to the priſon where Saturne and Cibell were, and ſaid to them with a mouth voyding dolorous ſighes. Alas my children what will ye do? What ſhall become of you? How ſhall ye be ſaued? The land of Crete is not only drowned by the teares and wéeping of your beſt friendes, but with their blood, and with the blood of their wiues and children. And the heart of Titan is ſo terrible hard and indured, that ye ſhall die here in miſerable paine, or ye muſt put your ſonnes to death. Since it is ſo, it is better that they be put to death, and that ye ſend to ſéeke them, when for your life is none other remedie.

The anger of Cibell was right aſpre and ſharpe, to heare the ſorrowfull tydings, inſomuch that her heart fayled, ſo as Saturne and her mother thought ſhe would haue dyed When ſhe was come againe to her ſelfe, ſhe cryed and ſaid. Ha my mother, what ſay ye to vs? Haue we ſo great paine for to kéepe our children, and that wee ſhould this houre abandon them to the death? Shall I vſe treaſon to my children that begin to flouriſh in right cleare fame? That ſhall neuer be (if it pleaſe the goddes) I had leauer die. Iupiter my ſonne hath a great name, and hath wonne the loue of the Pelagiens, and of the Epiriens: all the worlde prayſeth him: and holdeth him one of the valiaunteſt men of the world, he is my ſonne, I ſhall ſend to him, and let him haue knowledge of the miſerie that I am in, by the Damoſell that bare him vnto the Mountaine of Oſon, and ſhall require him of ſuccour, and I hope that he is a man of ſo hie courage, and ſo fortunate that he ſhall ſuccour her that hath done him that merite that is worthie to haue his ſuccour, and that ſaued him in his tender dayes: and my heart telleth me that hee ſhall receyue by this tyding a right great ioy, in knowledging the place of his natiuitte. For more greater ioy hée may not haue come to him, then to knowe that hee is the firſt ſonne of the auncient houſe of Crete. And this ſhal turne to him a ſoueraigne gladneſſe, when he ſhall ſee thal he is required to come and make the recouerance of his father and mother, and of his countrey.

CHAP. X, ¶Howe Iupiter with the ayde of King Meliſeus of Epire, deliuered Saturne his father, and Cibell his mother, out of the priſon of Titan: and howe hee ſlue Titan in battaile.

WHen Saturne and Veſca had heard Cibel ſo ſpeake, Veſca ſayd, that her aduiſe was right good, and Saturn was al aſtonied, for he thought that Iupiter, that he had ſéene at diuerſe times with King Mei • ſeus, ſhould in no wiſe be his ſon, ſo hardly hee could beléeue it, and giue faith vnto the words of Cibell, and ſaid, if Iupiter would ſuccour him, he were the man to do it, and that he was content that Cibel ſhuld ſend to fetch him as ſhe had ſayde. Then Cibell ſent for the Damoſell that knewe all the guiding of Iupiter, and gaue her the charge to go vnto him, and to diſpatch this buſineſſe. This Damoſell ioyous of this Ambaſſade, departed ſecretlie, and taryed not till ſhee came vnto the houſe of Meliſeus, and finding there Iupiter with the King, after the reuerence made, ſhe addreſſed her ſpéech to Iupiter, and ſaide to him: Iupiter reioyce and bee glad, I bring to thée tydings of gladneſſe. For among other ſorrowes, fortune that hath holde •• ee long time ignoraunt, and not knowing the place of thy right noble natiuitie, hath now certainly layde open the diſcouerture and knowledge of the ſame ignorance, and will that thou knowe, that thou art the firſt ſonne and heyre of the King Saturne, and of Dame Cibell. The King Saturne thy father, as euery man knoweth long ſince made an oath vnto his brother Titan, that hee would • ſlea all his children males that ſhould come of his ſéede: for which cauſe the day of thy natiuitie, he commaunded that thou ſhouldeſt be put to death: but thy mother had pitie of thée, and for to ſaue thy life ſhe ſent thée ſecretly vnto this houſe, giuing thy father Saturne to vnderſtand, that ſhe had done execution on thée. And ſo for to eſchue the furors of thy father, thou haſt béene here nouriſhed all thy dayes, and knoweſt not thy ſelfe what thou wert, and nowe thou art certaine. What ioy is this to thée? certainly great. And thou oughteſt to go ioyouſly vnto thy father and mother, preſenting thy ſelfe vnto their grace: if it were not that after theſe tydings of ioy, I muſt néedes ſhewe vnto thée (Iupiter) other tydings: and that is this. Thy mother that hath ſaued thée, thy vncle Titan holdeth her in pryſon, with Saturne, for that that ſhe hath nouriſhed thée: and hée hath ouercome and vanquiſhed thy father in battaile latelie, and taken from him his Realme: and yet more, hee will put them to death. Wherefore they pray and require thée, that thou haue pittie of them: and that thou wilt employ thée to go and deliuer them out of the daunger that they be in at this day.

The King Meliſeus and Iupiter hearing theſe tydings of the Damoſell, maruayled them right greatly: and Iupiter was right ioyous when he had vnderſtoode, that he was ſonne of King Saturne: and on that other ſide, he was ſore vexed of the troubling of Crete, and thanked the Damoſell. And after that he turned him vnto the king, and ſaid to him: Sira yee may nowe knowe and vnderſtande, what I am, and of what houſe, as this Damoſell witneſſeth. My father and my mother be in the hands of their enimies: I pray you in their fauour, that ye will helpe me to ſuccor them: and that we go haſtily, oppreſſing him that hath oppreſſed them: & I haue a ſingular hope and truſt in fortune, that ſhe will helpe vs. Faire ſonne (aunſwered Meliſeus) knowe that I haue more ioy in the recoueraunce of thy lynage then I can ſhew or make ſemblant of, and in ſigne of this, I promiſe to helpe thée aſmuch as in me is poſſible. And then Iupiter aſſured the Damoſel, and ſwore vnto her, that he would put him in armes againſt Titan: and had her returne vnto Saturne and Cibel, and to comfort them in hope of right ſhort ſuccour. The damoſel departed from thence, with the words of Iupiter, and returned in to Crete, and told vnto Saturne and Cibell, all that ſhe had doone. Anon after the Damoſell was departed, Iupiter ſent for Archas his ſonne haſtily, with the Arcadiens, and alſo ſent for the Epiriens and the Parthenyens, with them of the Citie of Analcre. All theſe people loued Iupiter with great loue, and came at his commaundement in great number of men of warre. Iupiter welcomed them as wel as he could, and told them the cauſe why he had ſent for them: and tolde them that he was Sonne vnto king Saturne. After theſe things he did cauſe to be made ready all things that were neceſſarie vnto his Hoſt: and ſo they departed from the Citie of Oſon, with a right fayre companye of men of armes, vnto the number of ſix thouſand fighting men: and ſo well ſped, that in ſhort time he brought them within a mile nigh the Citie of Crete.

And there Iupiter would tary vpon the toppe of a Mountayne, and called to him his ſ ••• e Archas that then had but thirtéene yeare of age, but he was right wiſe and well beſpoken, and gaue him in charge, that he ſhould go into Crete to giue ſummons vnto ye king Titan, that he ſhuld go out of the Citie, and deliuer to him his father Saturne, with his mother Cibell. The young Archas (that was hardye and hadde his heart highe enhaunſed) with the word of his father went vnto Crete to the King Titan, to whome he gat him to be preſented, and ſayd vnto him theſe wordes that folow: Titan, I come vnto thée in the obeyſance of my father Iupiter, firſt ſonne of King Saturne, that thou holdeſt in captiuitie. He hath béene aduertiſed of oppreſſion that thou haſt doone in the perſonne of his Father and of his mother, and the death of their ſonnes: he ſignifieth to thée by me, that he is ſonne of Saturne, and that he is as much thine enemy as thou to hi • ſoui ••• art enemie. Vpon which, I thée ••• non as legat once, twice, thrice, that thou yéelde this Cic • io vnto his Father King Saturn • , and that as haſtely as thou haſt entred therein, likewiſe that thou depart • . 〈◊〉 do (aunſwered Tytan) thou telleſt me tydings that be full of pleaſures, and ob •• ltation, by the which, I knowe by thy wordes, that Saturne hath a ſonne yet li • ring: nor by this meane. I ſée clearely, and ſo ſeeth all the world, that by good and iuſt quarell I am made king of this 〈…〉 Iupiter thy father knew, that I doubt him not, nor ſet nothing at all by his comming: and alſo that I will nothing do after his commaundement, Titan, (ſayd Archas) for aſmuch as thou abideſt in this will, I will no more at this time trouble thee: Make good watch: Iupiter is héereby, that tarieth for none otherwiſe, but anſwer from thée, for 〈◊〉 his indeuour to recouer this Citie.

With this word departed Archas from the preſence of Titan, and returned againe vnto his father. When Iupiter heard the anſwer of Titan he was full of gladnes, for he deſired nothing but for to be in armes, and concluded with his people, this on the 〈◊〉 we he would aſſault the citie, in caſe that 〈◊〉 furniſhed on him to battaile, A • on were there 〈…〉 and leaues, and tabernacles: the O ••• 〈◊〉 the A • tadiens and the Epiriens, laye vpon the agré ver •• le and made their hoſte to watche: Titan was then in Crete. And it is to wit, when Archas was departed 〈◊〉 his preſence he aſſembled all his ſonnes, 〈…〉 theſe 〈◊〉 which were to the pleaſant and agréeable 〈◊〉 For they deſired nothing but ſtrife and debate, and aſſured themſelues to haue victory of Iupiter, as well as they had of Saturne. In the ſame houre they ſente foure ſpies, to eſpie the nūber of their enimies 〈◊〉 made ready their harneſſe: theſe ſpies wente ſo fa • re, that the ſawe the hoſt of Iupiter, ma •• their report to Titan of y• place where his enimies were; and of what number of people they were. After ye report of the ſaid ſpies, Titan cōcluded, for aſmuch as his enemie were but a 〈◊〉 from the Citie, that there ſhuld make them readie, and go to battaile againſt them, on the moſte early. The night paſſed faſt, and the • ay came o • , and then aboue the ſunne riſing Titan mounted vppon his • haire that was right ri • h, and made his Titanoys to range in battaile, and left an hundred within the Citie, for to kéepe it from Rebellion, or from treaſon, and tooke all the other •• th him vnder his conduct, and of his ſonne • and his eſpies, &c.

Iupiter, that was not idle, had the ſame houre ſet all his men in or • er: and had then brought all his folke, into a faire plaine, hoping of battaile. And this Titan had not farre ridden, but the ſawe the hoſte or Iupiter, for this plaine was at diſc • uer 〈◊〉 ſides, and as farre as each might ſée other, each of them full of ioy, enforced him to make ſhouts and cries, and with great courage they marched the one againſt the other, vnto the ioyning and ſmiting of ſtroakes. Then Iupiter 〈◊〉 himſelfe in the front of the battaile, and 〈◊〉 his bow in his hand, and his 〈◊〉 by his ſide, by his ſ •• ting began a 〈◊〉 that was right fierce: for on the 〈◊〉 and the other, there were right good archers, and many • a • ters of poliſhed ſtones, that failed neuer: and that 〈◊〉 the cauſe of the death of many. When the ſhot and caſting of ſtones failed, they began to go together 〈…〉 , and then began of mortall fighting hand to hand, that was ſo 〈◊〉 that the breaking of the ſpeares and the this f • es 〈…〉 welles of Crete, and 〈◊〉 to the cares of 〈◊〉 and of Cibell, at the noyſe whereof they began to reioyn, for they had a good hope that Iupiter would obtaine the victorie againſt Titan. This 〈◊〉 Veſca: we ••• vpper vppon a high Tower that ſhee might ſée into the flée 〈◊〉 and there ſhée ſame the fighting of the battaile. Th •• ha ••• Iupiter his 〈◊〉 in his • ne hand, and his ſh •• ke in the other, and with his ſword h • e ſmote into the thickeſt of his Enemies, and with his ſhield hee ſaued himſelfe from their ••• ies. And with one ſtroke of his ſword, he diuided the bodye of Enceladus, one of the ſonnes of Titan, and caſt him on the ground at the féete of the Titanoys, that were right ſory for the death of their felow. Iupiter aſſayled them right ſharply, and one cried ſlea ſlea: but he that ſo cryed was ſlaine anon by the hands of Iupiter, that deſtroyed the blood of his aduerſaries. He was ſtrong, fierce, young and boyſtrous: and of high enterpriſe. He defended him vigorouſly as a Lyon, mightily as an Olephant, and egerly as a Tiger, and intended not onely vnto the defence of his body: but to ſaue and reſkew all them that were in peril vnder his charge: he did meruailous things, on all ſides the noyſe and bruit doubled and redoubled about him. The Titanoys began to be ouerthrowen by great routes: one fell on his ſhoulders, an other on his ſhéelde, and he charged ſo ſore vpon them, that his ſtrokes might not be ſuſtained of men, they were ſo ſtrong and puiſſant. &c.

This battell was cruell and hardye at beginning for both the two parties, & there were many of the Titanoys, of Arcadiens, and of the Epiriens hurt, dead and caſt vnder foote. Archas was there accompanied with fiftie Arcadiens appointed vnto the guard of his body, for aſmuch as he was younge: and yet he made and put himſelfe to the armes. Meliſeus fayled not, nor Titan, Lycaon, Egeon: on the other ſide alſo, eche man did his beſt that he might. I cannot ſay how many men lay dead on the grounde, us how oftentimes the one ſet vpon the other: but ye ſhall vnderſtand that there was none comparable vnto Iupiter, in ſtrength, in leading his men, nor in prowes: there was nothing to him impoſſible. He ouercame the ouercommers: he flewe the flears: he ſmote downe the ſmyters: he put himſelfe ſo farre foorth, and in ſo many places in the battayle of the Tytanoys, yt in a ſtraight he came and found Tytan in his chaire, that ouerthrew the Epiriens with ſtones and round plumettes, that he caſt on them and cryed, Titan, Titan, for as much as he thought that he fought well. When Iupiter knewe that Titan was there, he drewe towarde him, and as Titan aduaunced his arme, for to ſmite vpon an Epirien, Iupiter lifted vp his ſword, and charged ſo ſore vpon his arme, that he ſmote it off, and departed it from his body, whereof he had great ioy, and cried, Iupiter, Iupiter: and Titan ſo hurt, had great ſorrow, that he fell downe within his Chaire.

At this time the Epiriens began to courage themſelues, and the Titanoys were diſcouraged. Licaon and Egeon were there faſt by, where they ſaw their fathers arme flie into the field: then they began to aſſaile Iupiter, as men diſpayred, and ſo began a new combate, where much blood was ſpilled. But notwithſtanding the fierceneſſe of Licaon that had Iupiter long time in hatred, foraſmuch as he had taken from him his Lordſhip, Iupiter followed ſo eagerly to put Titan to foyle, that he brake his Chayre into péeces, by the helpe •• the Epiriens: and with the ſword that he ſmote off his arms, he departed the life from the bodie of the vnhappie Titan, by a mortall ſtroke that he gaue vnto his heart; 〈◊〉 then bent he his indeuour and proweſſe to perſecute Lica •• 〈◊〉 Egeon, that had giuen to him many ſtrokes and 〈◊〉 : and he ſmote with his ſword vpon the head of Licaon ſo fiercely, that the ſword went to his heart, wherat Egeon had ſo great ſorrow and dread, that he fled and ſaued him from the ſkirmiſh: in which ſkirmiſh the Tita • ois, ſo vnmeaſurably had the woorſt, that all were put to death, and to fight in the fields, ſome here, and ſome there: one of the ſonnes of Tit •• named Tiphon, ſéeing the diſcomfiture, came vnto Iupiter, and ſayd: Iupiter, • e here thine enemie: flie not after them that flie: it ſhall be vnto thee more honourable to fight againſt me that defieth thée, then to run after the fugiti • es: Neuer yet was I found fléeing before mine enemies, nor yet will I. Thou haſt ſlaine Titan my father, and my brother is ſlain and vanquiſhed by force and ſtrength, and ſo it behoueth that this Realme muſt be thine or mine: and now let vs ſée who ſhall do beſt: if I may I will vanquiſh thée: and if I ouercome thée, certainly thou ſhalt not • is by glai • e nor ſworde, but by the water of the • ood that runneth all redde, and dyed by the blood of my kinne, to the end that thou drinke of the blood that thou haſt made runne out of their bodyes, whereof I have great ſorrow and griefe: for by the courſe of nature I ought to take diſpleaſure and annoy thereof, and alſo to turne to great diſpight the diſpleaſure that thou haſt done to me, &c.

CHAP. XI. ¶How Iupiter vanquiſhed in the field Tiphon, and caſt him in the Riuer, &c.

THis Tiphon was great and full of preſumption and pride: when he had ſaide all that ſay on his heart, Iupiter that had then beheld & vnderſtood him, anſwered to him: vaſſaile, haſt thou no knowledge what reaſon and right the gods & fortune haue done for me? Thou art ſtrong of members: and there procéed from thy heart words more outragious then wiſe, and foraſmuch as thou demandeſt battel, thou art welcom: make thée ready ſhortly, and do the beſt that thou canſt, and haſt thee, for the cauſe requireth it. With this word Tiphon ſmote Iupiter ſo rudly vpon the head of his ſhield, that hee dare away a great •• arter, & made Iupiter to ſloupe with the right leg. There were by many Epiriens, that ſéeing Iupiter ſo ſmitten, r •• and come for to reſcue him: but Iupiter would not ſuffer them that they ſhould helpe him in any caſe, but bad Meliſeus and A • chas, that they ſhould follow the chaſe of them that fled. And thou he began to aſſa •• Tiphon, by great vertue ••• ce, in ſuch wiſe that he gaue him many wounds in his body and thus began the battell of Tiphon and Iupiter: they were both ſtrong and able in the craft of armes, they charged one vpon that other • olorouſly and eagerly. It is no néed that I declare how many ſtrokes the one gaue vnto the other: but I muſt tel how Iupiter ſo fought and ſmote his enemie, that he tooke from him his ſword & ſhéeld: and when he was in that point, he charged him vpō his ſhoulders by forre of his arms, and bare him to the riuer that was all died with the bloud of dead men: and there he made him die miſerably, caſting him into the flood with the head downeward, for aſmuch as he had menaced Iupiter with ſuch a death. What ſhal I ſaye more of this battaile? after the death of Typhon Iupiter wēt agayne to the purſuit of his enemies, vntill the ſunne began to decline into the weſt, and fo •• owed on by great ſlaughter: but in proceſſe of time when he ſaw that Titan and the more people were ſo feeble and ſo diſperſed by the fieldes that they might neuer ariſe againe, he ſownded the retrayte, and aſſembled his folke in the beſt wiſe he might, and after he tooke the right way to the Citie, hauing great ioye and e ••• tation of his victorie. And he had not taryed long, but that foure Cytizens of Crete came vnto him, and to tolde him, that al they of the party of Titan were fled, and that they had taken out of priſon his father.

CHAP. XII. ¶How Iupiter and Saturne reconcyled themſelues together: and how Iupiter, by commaundement of his father we ••••• to deſtroy the King Apollo of Paphos, and of the • edicine of Eſculapius. &c.

IVpiter receyued theſe Citizens and their tydings in right great g • a •• es, and deſiring with all his heart to be with his father and mother, did ſo much ſpéed him that he 〈◊〉 into Crete: Saturne and Cibel, with V •••• , were at the ga • e, which receyued him honourably, and brought him vnto the Pal • ato, where he was 〈◊〉 with the king Me ••• and A •••• , in 〈◊〉 •••• n that it might be no better. At the comming of Iupiter many teares were wept for ioy, by dame Cibell and Veſca. Cibell kiſt and beclipt often times her ſonne. And all they of the countrie came thither into the pallace, for to feaſt and worſhip Iupiter, and alſo they gaue him many great gifts. And it is not to be forgotten, how Saturne reconciled himſelf vnto him, and gaue him a ſtate as to his ſonne. During theſe things, the body of Titan was ſearched among the dead bodies, by the commandement of Saturne, and there was made for him his obſequie ſolemne, as it appertaineth to a king, and likewiſe vnto his ſonnes that were found dead in the battaile. All the ſonnes of Titan were not periſhed and dead in the battaile: for among all other, Iopetus and Briareus were left aliue and fled: That is to ſay, Briareus was fled into an Ile of Greece named Nericos: and Iopetus fled into a part of Libie, where be inhabited: And he had with him thrée ſonnes that he had by his wife, whreof the eldeſt was named Athlas, the ſecond had his name Heſperus, and the third named himſelfe Prometheus. Athlas dwelled in Libie, and Heſperus reigned in Spaigne, and were both vanquiſhed by Hercules, as it ſhall be ſaide in the ſecond booke.

For to hold on our purpoſe: when Saturne and Iupiter had doone the obſequies of the Titanoys, tidings came to Iupiter, that Apollo king of Paphos had taken part with them that fled from the battel of the Titanoy. This ſaid Apollo had made aliances with Saturne, and was ſonne of Iupiter of Artique. When Iupiter and Saturne heard theſe tidings, anon Saturn required Iupiter that be would take vengeance on Apollo that was his allie, and that he would deſtroy his enemies. At the requeſt of Saturne, Iupiter enterpriſed the warre, and in haſte he went and beſieged the Citie of Paphos, and tooke it with aſſault, and put to ſword and deſtruction all the fugitiues that he could finde: and more ouer, he ſpoyled Apollo of al hi • riche • , and of his Lordſh •• , leauing him ſo nakedly, that he departed from Paphos not as a king, but as a poore beggar▪ and fortune was to him ſo contrarie, that he was conſtrained to kéepe the ſhéepe of king Admetus of Theſſaly. In this place ſome men ſay, that in the time that Iupiter beganne to mount in his reigne, and to embrace honour, Eſculapius ſonne of Apollo, which was right expert in medicine, and ſearching one day his aduentures, as he went by a wood ſide, hée ſawe from farre, where an hearde man with his little horne, fought againſt the baſiliſque, that of his nature ſlewe the people onely with his ſight. When Eſculapius ſawe this, hee greatly meruailed, and tarried, and he had not long abiden, but that the heardman had ouercome the baſiliſque, and conſtrained him to withdraw him vpon a Rocke that was there nigh by. Eſculapius was all amazed with this thing, ſo that he wiſt not what to ſay: for he thought it was impoſſible for a man to ouercome one ſo mortall a beaſt. Then when that the baſiliſque was withdrawne vpon the rocke, Eſculapius went haſtily vnto the heardman, and finding that he had on his head a chapellet or garland made of many diuerſe hearbs and flowers, he iudged incontinently that in this foreſaide garland was an hearbe of ſuch vertue that kept him from the death, and alſo from the ſubtile venime of the baſiliſque. Then he intreated ſo, that the heardman or ſhepheard, gaue him his chapellet or garland, as ignorant of the vertue thereof: and then the ſaide heardman went againe for to aſſaile the baſiliſque: and ſodainely with one proper ſight of his eyes, the poore ſhepheard fell dead vnto the earth.

Eſculapius was then well aſſured, that hee had well thought that in the chapellet was an hearbe that ſuffiſed to withſtand againſt the malicious interication of the venemous eyes of beaſts: and with the ſaide chapellet, he went to the Rocke, and fought ſo againſt the baſiliſque that hee ſlew him. Whereof hee had ſo great ſay, that a heart aſpiring to worſhip might haue no more. When he had thus doone, he went vnto the heardman, and hauing pitie on him, tooke all the heaths one after another, wherof the chapellet was made: and put them ſeuerally each by himſelfe in his mouth. And at laſt he touched onely the leaues of the vertuous hearbe, and bruſed it in his mouth, ſo putting it in the dead mans mouth, ſodainely he roſe from death to life. O maruailous vertue of an hearbe men reade that by the ſame hearbe, Hippolitus (which came vnto his death by the meanes of his ſtepmother, who accuſed him falſely) afterward was raiſed to life againe, and after hee had beene long dead, and drawne through buſhes, hedges, mountaines & thornes, when his bodie was found, and they that found him laide him in a meddow vpon a plat of hearbs like vnto the hearbe wherof is ſpoken before, by vertue of the ſame his wounds were healed, and his life was giuen and yeelded vnto him againe.

For to holde on the matter: when Eſculapius had raiſed the heardman or ſheapheard, hee tooke the hearbe and the baſiliſque, and bare them vnto the Citie of Paphos, telling his aduenture, and from thenceforth he raiſed men from death to life, by vertue of the hearbe, and fought and ouercame baſiliſques. And for this cauſe hee gat him ſo high a name, that Iupiter was diſpleaſed at his glorie, and vndertooke warre againſt him, and ſlew him: whereof his father Apollo tooke ſo great ſorrow in himſelfe, that he enterpriſed the warre againſt Iupiter, but Iupiter ouercame him, and conſtrained him to ſuch an extremitie, that for to hi • e his name, hee went and ſerued the king Admetus of Theſſaly, as is ſayde before. And thus when Iupiter had vanquiſhed Apollo by one meane or by other, he returned into Crete with great glory, and found there Neptune and Pluto his brethren, and Iuno his ſiſter, that made him good cheare. This Iuno was the moſt beautifull woman and faireſt maide in all the countrey. After the returne of Iupiter ſhe conuerſed with him certaine ſpace of time, albeit they diſcouered not their mindes at this time, And in proceſſe of ſinne Iuno returned into Partheny, with the other virgins which ſhe had bin nouriſhe with & there abode in many thoughts and deſires: and made neuer other prayers vnto the gods, but that they onely would giue here grace for to be wife vnto her brother. And it is not to had forgotten, that as ſhe was ſtrongly ſet in loue with her brother Iupiter, as much or more was Iupiter firmely in loue with her. For, to ſee her onely (after that he had ſent home all his men of warre into their owne countreyes, and that he had eſtabliſhed his father Saturne in his ſeignorie and Lordſhip) vnder the colour of deuotion he went often times into the Citie of Parthenie, and tooke pleaſure to be with her, &c.

CHAP. XIII. ¶How Iupiter with great ioy ſpouſed his ſiſter Iuno. And how the king Saturne beganne warre againſt Iupiter his ſonne, &c.

ANd as Iupiter was thus buſie to ſolicite the virgin Iuno in the City Partheny, for to haue the better occaſion to abide there, he builded a Temple, and didſt to be dedicated vnto his mother Cibel, and at laſt did make an image or ſtatue of a woman in royall attyre, that gaue meate vnto many ſmall images of little children, in remembrance that ſhe had ſaued the life to her children. And when this temple was perfected & made vnto the dedication, Saturn & Cibel togither came thither, with all the nobles of the countrey, and there made a great ſolemnitie, that dured 15. daies in great gladnes. And at this great feaſt and gladnes failed not Iupiter nor Iuno, for about the ende of this ſolemnitie the nobles of the countrey treated their marriage, and the prieſt of the temple of Cibell aſſured and betrothed them together. And anon after, in the ſame temple their ſpouſals were made and celebrated, with ſo great glorie, ioy, and triumph, that it is not poſſible to be rehearſed. And Iupiter and Iuno lay together, and engendred a daughter, that they named Phebe. The Partheniens for memorie of this marriage, founded there a temple, wherein they ſet the image of Iuno, in habite of a maide that married her. And alway after that ſame day that Iupiter wedded Iuno, they made in that temple an annyuerſarie, and a great feaſt, which was helde in manner of a wedding. After all theſe things, Saturn returned into Crete, and Pluto returned into a part of Theſſaly, where he founded the city of Helle, wherof ſhall be ſpoken in the ſecond booke, and Neptune returned into Athens, where the Atheniens made him king, as well for his vertues, as for that he was ſonne of Saturne, at that time the moſt renowmed king of the world.

In thoſe daies, when Saturne ſaw him quit of Titan, and of his generations, and that he ſaw his children mount from lowe places into reignes of high Chaires, all his ſorrowes vaniſhed away, and then beganne the cleareneſſe of his reigne to bee peaceable: all doubtes, all dreades, all ſuſpitions were put away: Hée had of the goods of Fortune as much as hee woulde: None was then ſo hardie that durſt conſpire againſt his dominion: hée founde himſelfe in peace generall. And it is to bee ſuppoſed and gathered by the Reignes of his time, that hee was in ſo great peace and tranquilitie, that hee might haue finiſhed and ended his dayes in the ſame, if he himſelfe had not ſought to beginne warre: for hee had Iupiter his ſonne vnto his helpe, at that time the moſt valiliant in armes that was in all the worlde. And when Saturne ſawe him thus in peace a long time, it happened on a day, when it came vnto his minde, that his God Apollo had prognoſticated, that this Iupiter ſhoulde put him out of his Realme, ſodenly there began to engendre in him a mortall hate againſt Iupiter that had doone vnto him ſo manye good déedes. And ſéeing that euerye man helde him in loue, and was buſie to pleaſe him, he was the more incenſed, and gaue credence vnto his curſed prognoſtication: and ſo he ſuffred himſelfe to bee intangled with ſo great a follye, that he coulde neuer drawe it out after: and thus he returned vnto his auncient ſorrowes, and fantaſies, in ſuch wiſe that he made them appeare outward. &c.

When they of Crete ſawe Saturne ſo troubled, the moſt priuie of his ſecrete councell endeuoured to comfort him: but it helped nought, nor they coulde not gette from his mouthe the cauſe of ſuch melancholye, vnto the tyme that hée hadde determined in his hearte that he woulde perſecute vnto the death his ſonne Iupiter. And then he did cauſe to aſſemble his Princes and his councellours, and ſaid to them: I charge and adiure you all, by the names of all our glorious goddes, that ye ſaye to mée the trouth, and aduiſe, mée what thing ſhall, or ought a king to do with a man that he doubteth, by a diuine aunſwere that hath béene ſayde to him, that this man ſhall put him out of his reygne and Kingdome. When they of Crete hadde vnderſtoode the charge and adiuration of the King, they aſſembled themſelues at a councell, and there they ordeyned, and appointed one, that for all the other ſhould haue charge to giue this aunſwere. Syr, the councell knoweth that long ſince ye hadde an aunſwer of your God conteyning that ye had engendred a ſonne that ſhould put you out of your reygne: and that dame Cibell that time was deliuered of Iupiter: the counſel prayeth you, that ye will conſider, howe what time ye were depryued of your crowne, and hadde loſt it, hée deliuered you, and made you quit of all your enemies. If the cauſe of your charge and adiuracion touch not this matter, the councell is of opinion, that if the king haue puiſſance and might ouer him that he doubteth, and that he haue cauſe euident, a king then ought to make him ſure from that man, and frée from daungers.

Certes, ſayd Saturne, the aduice of the counſell is reaſonable enough: and for aſmuch as I muſt declare to you, and ſay to you what I meane: I am the King that I ſpeake of, and the man that I doubte, is Iupiter my ſonne: him I feare and dread much more then the death, in ſo much that I maye not endure, nor take reſt for him: For ſléeping I dreame that he riſeth againſt me, and aſſayleth me in armes, with a great multitude of Arcadiens, and of Epyriens, and reſteth conqueror and victorious ouer me: and, waking, I haue alwaye mine eares open for to hearken and eſpie, if he be aboute to come on me with men of armes: and thus I can haue no ſolace, pleaſure, nor reaſt, and am a man loſt. This conſidered: I will that he be dead: and I take the culp and ſinne vpon me. And, I wil that ye know, yt I am your king, and that ye to me owe obeyſaunce: and for that, I commaund you, vpon payne of death, that there be not one man that is ſo hardy to withſaye any thing contrary to my will, and, that each of you be to morrow found readie in armes before this Pallace, for to ſuccour and ſerue me in this worke, which is the greateſt thing that euer ſhall come to me.

CHAP. XIIII. ¶How they of Crete, when they had heard the commaundement of Saturne, were ſore troubled and greeued: and how he gathered his forces againſt Iupiter his ſonne.

WHen they of Crete had hearde the reſolution of Saturne, they were greatly abaſhed: for they knewe well, that Saturne tooke this matter greatly to his heart, and that he was a terrible man to offend: And ſo they knew, that wrongfully he willed the death of his ſonne Iupiter, that had reſtored him to his Lordſhip by proweſſe and valiance. Many there were that went into an other kingdome, becauſe they would not be with the father againſt the ſonne, nor with the ſonne againſt the Father. But there was no man that durſt be ſo hardy to replye againſt Saturne, nor ſay that he did euill, for they dreaded more his ire, then to offend iuſtice. What ſhall I ſay? After the commaundement of Saturne, each man withdrewe him vnto his houſe, full of gréefe and bitter ſorrowe in heart. And there was not one man, but he had his face charged with great gréefe and heauy annoyaunce. &c.

The daye then drewe paſt: and on the morne, Saturne, armed himſelfe, and ſounded Trumpettes vnto armes. They of Crete aroſe this morning, and manye there were of them that knewe the intention of Saturne: And alſo there were manye that maruayled of that that the King woulde do, and could finde no reaſon wherefore he made this armie: For all Crete was in peace, and all the Tytanoys were diſparkled, and put vnto deſtruction for euer. Among all other, Cibell wiſt not what to thinke: Séeing that Saturne ſent not for Iupiter, ſhe demaunded him oftentimes whither hée woulde go, and for what reaſon he tooke not Iupiter with him in his company? Iupiter was at that time in Parthenie with his wife Iuno.

When Saturne hadde heard the demaunde of his wife Cibell, all his bloud beganne to chaunge, and he ſayd to her, that all in time ſhée ſhoulde knowe the place that hée woulde go to. Cibell was wiſe and ſubtill: when ſhée heard the aunſwere of the King, and ſawe the facion of his countenance, her heart gaue her that he had ſome euill will: and ſhe had ſuſpicion that he woulde do harme to Iupiter. Wherefore ſhe went into her chamber righte penſife, and at all aduenture ſhée ſent haſtelye into Partheny, and ſignified to Iupiter, that he ſhoulde departe haſtely thēce: & that ſhe imagined ye Saturn his father would to him diſpleaſure, for he made a right great aſſemblie of men of armes, and there was no man that could tell the cauſe wherefore.

CHAP. XV. ¶How King Saturne, with all his great hoſt came before the Citie of Arcadia, againſt Iupiter his ſonne.

IT is to be thought that Iupiter had his heart right diſpleaſant when he had receyued theſe tydings from his mother Cibel, and although that ſhe warned him by ſuppoſing, as ſhe that wiſt not verilye the will of the king: yet when he conſidered that he was not ſent for vnto his armie, he doubted him and departed thence, and ſayd to his wife Iuno, that he would go vnto Arcadia concluding in himſelfe, that by this meane he ſhould ſée the behauiour of his father, and to what place he imployed his armie. But he was not farre on his waye, when he reſted vpon a mountayne, and looked behinde him, that he ſawe the Cittie of Partheny, that anon was euyroned and full of the men of armes of king Saturne: that gaue to him a great proofe of the aduertiſement of his mother. And for to ſée what waye he bent his courſe, he taryed ſtill on the mountayne, hauing his eyes alwayes vnto the Cittie. And anon he ſawe his father Saturne mounte into his Chayre, and all his armye iſſue out at the ſame gate where he came from, and tooke the ſame waye that he had taken: And that gaue him verilye to vnderſtand and knowe, that his father ſought him. And ſo he departed from this mountaine: and went to Arcadia, and told vnto his ſonne, and to the Arcadiens the cauſe wherefore he was come, and prayed them, that they would furniſh him with good armours, to the ende he might defend their Citie, if néede were. &c.

The Arcadiens, at the requeſt of Iupiter, made ready their armes, and their citie, and ſent out eſpies vpon the way. And anon, after they were come from the Pallaice, the eſpies affirmed to Iupiter and Archas, that they had ſéene the champaine countrey, and the wayes of Arcadia all full of men of armes. Anon there was proclaimed in the Citie in the name of theyr ſoueraigne Lord Iupiter, that euerie man ſhould make good watch, and kéepe his ward. With this crye the Arcadiens armed them with helmets and armes of leather: and went vpon the the walles and towers, hauing in theyr handes Axes, Swordes, Guyfarmes, Glayues and Maces. And they had not long taried there when they ſawe come from farre two men of Crete, which came to the gate and aſked of the porters, if Iupiter were within? The porter, when he vnderſtood what they aſked: anſwered them, that Iupiter was in the Cittie: and if they hadde to doo with him, they ſhould finde him in the Pallace, where he paſſed the time with his ſonne Archas: and, that hée was newly come vnto the towne to viſit him. When they of Crete heard this, they were ſore troubled: for they ſought him that they would not finde. Notwithſtanding they went in, and paſſed foorth vp to the Pallace, and there finding Iupiter with the nobles of Arcadia, after the reuerence made, one of them ſpake, and ſayde: Syr, we ſéeke thée: and we haue no will to finde thée, for, wée come againſt our will, to execute a commiſſion, by the which maye ſooner come ruine & trouble then peace to Crete and vs. Saturne thy father commaundeth thée that thou alone come ſpeake with him. he hath ſought thée in all the places of Partheny. His daughter Iuno thy wife (not thinking euill) hath aſcertayned him that thou art come hither. Hée is come after thée in armes, and we knowe not what he thinketh to doo: for was neuer ſo angry, nor ſorrowfull, nor ſo fierce as he is now. We be his ſeruauntes, force hath conſtrayned vs in his obeyſance, and for this cauſe wil we thée to appeare in perſon before him this ſame houre, all excuſations ſet a part.

When Iupiter had conſidered and well pondered in his minde the adiournement or ſummons, with his eyes full of teares, hée made •• s aunſwere, and ſayde thus: I maruell of the right ſtraunge demeanour of my father: and peraduenture it is not without great cauſe. His Realme is in peace. I haue put and ſet him againe in his Realme, he putteth himſelfe in armes without my knowledge, and nowe he ſendeth for me, that I ſhoulde alone come ſpeake with him: that is too ſtraunge a thing vnto mee. And, hée behaueth himſelfe not as hee ought to do: for men ought to prayſe them that haue deſerued it, and be of value. I haue auayled him as much as his Realme is woorth: and hee hath other tymes ſent for mee to make warre. I wote not nowe what euill will he hath, or may haue to mee. But here he is come with his armie, where he hath nothing to do. And being come, he demaundeth nothing but me alonely. All things conſidered and weighed: I haue no reaſon for to obey his commaundement: notwithſtanding that hee is my Father: foraſmuch as the ſuſpition is too much apparaunt. But I am content, if hee haue to do with mee, to ſerue him, and to come to him, vppon condition that I ſhall bee accompanyed with all my friends that I can get, and none otherwiſe.

The two Commiſſaryes, with this worde returned vnto Saturne, and tolde him the intention of Iupiter. Saturne tooke right impaciently the aunſwere of Iupiter, and approached vnto Archadie, and beſieged it, with great oathes making his auowe vnto his goddes, that if hee may haue Iupiter, hee with his handes would make ſacrifice of him. And then hee ſent for his moſte wiſe men, and willed them, that in fell menaces they ſhould go ſummon the King Archas, and the Archadiens, to yéelde and deliuer him Iupiter: declaring openlie and plainly, that hee was more his enemie than his ſonne.

The wiſe men departed from the Hoſte, at the commaundement of Saturne, and did well theyr deuoier to ſummon the Archadians: and ſayde to the King and people of Archadie: we bee come vnto you, foraſmuch as yee ſuſtayne Iupiter, whome the King Saturne holdeth for his enemy, telling you if ye deliuer him vnto Saturne, ye ſhall bee his friendes: and if not, hee doeth you to wit, that ye doe kéepe you with good watch and warde, for hee hath not in the worlde whom hee reputeth greater enemies than you, &c.

By this commaundement knewe Iupiter, that it was hée himſelfe for whom Saturne made his armie. The Archadiens aſſembled to councell without Iupiter, and ſpake of this matter, and made aunſwere to the wiſe men of Crete, howe they were bounden to ſerue Iupiter, and howe they woulde kéepe him, and liue and die with him, agaynſt all men, aboue all other. When the wiſe men had their aunſwere, they returned vnto Saturne, and tolde him the aunſwere of the Archadiens. Anon haſtilie ſore chafed, and enflaming with great yre, hee commaunded, that the Citie ſhoulde bée aſſayled. Anon went to Armes they of Crete, in ſuch wiſe, that they approched the walles and fortes. And when the Archadiens ſawe their enemies approch, anon they ſounded to armes, and came to the fight, and plyed them to defend theyr walles with great courage. Then was drawne and ſhot many an arrow, and many a ſtone caſt, and manie beaten and hurt, as well within as without: Gunnes, Bombards, he great artillarie was none in this time in the Realmes. Alway they of the Citie had well the craft to caſt vppon theyr enemyes burning Brandes, and Oiles and waters boyling with aſhes.

And for to doo thus, Iupiter had induced and taught the Archadien people men, and women, that when they of Crete came moſte ſtrong to the aſſaulte, and ſuppoſing to haue entred the citie, they were charged with fire, Oyles and ſcalding waters, that of force conſtrayned them to go back, with great loſſe of people and to ſound the retrait. Saturne then taking the moſt ſorrow of the world, for that he might not obtaine his will, for that by the walles laye more then foure hundred of his men dead, returned into his Tente, after the aſſault, paſſing ſorrowfull and deſolate: and had ſo great griefe at his heart, that he could neither eate nor drinke. But this notwithſtanding he thought right well on his hurte people, and went to their Tentes, and did cauſe to miniſter medicines vnto them that were hurte. &c.

CHAP. XVI. ¶How Iupiter ſent his embaſſadours to his father Saturne for peace. And how Saturne would not heare nor intende to peace. &c.

THe Arcadiens were paſſing ioyous, when they ſawe and tooke héede how they of Crete ceaſed with ſhame theyr aſſaulte, and after the aſſault and retrait of both ſides, alwaye Saturne applyed to heale and giue medicines vnto his hurte men. The Arcadiens then aſſembled a councell, and by great deliberation they ſent ſeuen of their honourable councellours in ambaſſadge vnto Saturne, of whome the one ſpake and ſayd. Saturne, thou knoweſt and oughteſt to know, that euerie King ought to labour to liue in peace: For, the moſt fayre thing of the world is peace. Peace noriſheth profit: by peace are proſpered menne and children: townes and Cities are vnited and knit togither by charytye, and made as one by amorous communication. By peace, Realmes profite, in beautifying and building fayre houſes: in labouring and earing the earth and in length of life. By peace, mens bodyes be whole and quyet: and it is that thing that cauſeth a man to demaund ſoueraygntie. O Saturne, it ſéemeth that thou reckeſt not of this good vertue, for reygning in peace and tranquillitie there is no king nor Prince that dare ſhewe him againſt thée. Thou haſt not onely troubled thy Realme: but thou art abuſer of warre, For to haue peace, a man ought to order and diſpoſe to the warre. Thou doeſt all otherwiſe: and regardeſt not, that thy ſon Iupiter hath deliuered thée from the bondes of thine other enimies, and hath ſette thy Diademe in a ſuerty of peace, which thou might not do without him? ſeeſt thou not, that by making him warre, thou canſt not haue peace: and, that thou deſtroyeſt and breakeſt this peace; ſeeſt thou not that this is thy ſonne by warring againſt whome thou art a Monſter in nature? The fathers naturally do loue their children: and the rude and brute beaſtes kéepe and holde this condition of nature. Thou ſéekeſt and wouldeſt deſtroy the bloud of thy ſonne. And from whence commeth this vnnaturall appetyte? Might it not ſatiſfie thy cruell purpoſe and olde errour to thinke on the goodnes and benefit that thou haſt receyued lately by his reſtoring thée to reigne? bée thine interior rancours permanent? Shall thy fantaſies neuer ceaſe? Wilt thou be in age more fooliſh and ſimple then a childe? The more that men growe in age, the more be they wiſe. Thou haſt leſſe knowledge now, then thou haddeſt in thy wildeſt youth. And from whence commeth this defaulte? Is this by the heauenly Influence? If it be thus: where is reaſon? where is equitie? where is the loue of the father to the ſonne? knoweſt thou not that had not Iupiter thy ſonne bin, thou haddeſt bin yet in great darkenes languiſhing? I ſignifie to thée, as the aduocate of Iupiter, that he loueth thée as his owne father: and further more, I praye thée, that thou wilt be in peace. And if thou will him no good, yet at leaſt will him no harme, nor encombraunce.

I ſhould ſoone yéeld to your demaund (aunſwered Saturne) if the experience of the life of Iupiter came not to my ſight. Sée I not howe hée inhaunceth himſelfe the moſt hee can? Sée I not howe the people by his fayre and fawning woordes owe him more fauour then me? Sée I not that he flyeth from mee? If he be not culpable, wherefore flyeth he? He will ſay to the people, that hee is innocent. Say ye that he hath nothing done agaynſt me? I wote not howe the Archadiens take it: but if I may once ſet my hande on them, there was neuer ſo great a deſtruction as ſhall come vnto Archadie. And I haue not as nowe anie purpoſe to depart from this place, till I haue vtterly razed this Citie that is rebell agaynſt mee, and my commaundements. Sir (aunſwered the Archadiens) ſince that fayre ſpéech may not refraine thy paſſing great yre, nor reſtrayne thy warre, beware, keepe thée well from vs, and vs from thée, for the matter ſhall take his ende by warre. God ſpéede the right and fortune, we will not long drawe foorth time: it is concluded, that the Archadiens and Iupiter will iſſue to morrow out of the Citie: and if they finde any that aſſayle them, they will defende theyr lyues. This ſpeech ended, Saturne turned his backe to the Archadiens, ſhaking his heade, and the Archadiens returned into theyr Citie, and rehearſed and tolde from the beginning to the ending all that they had done: and by theyr report, it was confirmed, that the day following they ſhoulde iſſue out of the Citie, in ſuch wiſe as they had purpoſed among them, &c.

Iupiter had great diſpleaſure in himſelfe, for that hee ſawe that his father was ſo grieued, and would not bee content: yet notwithſtanding, hee doubted not ſo much, but that he tooke courage to him, and ſayde, hee was more holden to kéepe his life, then to obey the euill will of his Father, that hated him at his birth. This night paſſed ouer, anon after that the ſun cleared & lighted the ayre, about the thirde houre of the day, Archas, Iupiter, and the men of warre of the Citie, went into the field in good order: and they were not ſo ſoone iſſued out of the gates, but they were ſéene of the Saturniens, that waited for them, by the commandement of Saturne. And then began each againſt other, ſo great a crie and noyſe, that it reſounded vnto the mountaines and walles. And then they began to aſſaile the Archadiens by ſhot and ſtones, ſo eagerly, that when Iupiter ſawe there was no other remedie but to fight, hee put him forth foremoſt in the front before, and ſo beganne to ſay to them that ſought him, crying with an high voyce, to here is Iupiter, each man do to him what he may.

And thus began the dolorous battaile of Saturne and Iupiter. There was the father agaynſt the ſonne, and the ſonne agaynſt the father. There loſt nature her fayre and commendable properties. The father ſought to ſpill the blood that hee had engendred: and promiſed great giftes vnto them that might take him. The battaile was rigorous and hard: and then wrought and fought well Iupiter and Archas, and aboue all, the noble Iupiter imployed ſo hardilie his Swoorde tempered with ſtéele, that hée ſmote downe Shéeldes and Helmes, and cut off heades and armes, and there was no man might reſiſt his proweſſe inuincible. Hée made to tremble the moſt hardieſt that were there: hée made retyre, and to go abacke, them that had aduaunced themſelues more then they had power and vertue to maintaine. Hee brake the wings of the battaile: and in their moſt ſtrength, he met and encountred manie times Saturne his father, and it was well in his power and puyſſaunce to gréeue him: but though that Saturne layde on him, and gaue him great ſtrokes and grieuous horions, yet he would neuer ſmile againe, but ſayde to him oft tymes, Alas my father, wherefore ſéekeſt thou the effuſion of my blood? I am thy ſonne, and thy ſeruaunt. Thou haſt no cauſe to perſecute mée. I will not lay my hand vppon thée: but beware and put no affiance in the Archadiens, for if they may haue and get thée in their power, thou ſhalt find in them little pitie nor mercie, &c.

Saturne notwithſtanding theſe fayre wordes, woulde neuer refrayne his yre: but ſmote euer vpon Iupiter as fiercely as he mought. Iupiter of all his ſtrokes tooke no héede, and ſet little thereby: and albeit that he had occaſion to fight and ſmite his father: alway he turned his ſtrokes, and had no conſciens to occupy his ſharp ſword vpon them of Crete, yet ſomtimes he ſo laied on that euery ſtroke without fault was died with newe bloode. And, this he did meaning to ſhewe Saturne that he fought againſt him in vaine, and that to him was nothing impoſſible. All theſe things nothing diſmaied Saturne. The cry was great aboute Iupiter, the armes were greatly exercyſed, the ground was all couered with the effuſion of bloud, and the deade bodies lay one vpon an other beheaded and ſmitten in péeces. O right hard and ſore battaile: Saturne was ſo intangled in his obſtinacie, that the bloud of his men wetting his armes by the courſe of the large woūds that Iupiter made vnto them, might not moderate his yre nor heate. And his eyes were ſo blynde in his yre, that he ſawe not his right euydente dammage: nor how he ſought the proper meane, by which he was put out of his Realme, that he doubted, and againſt which he intended to make reſiſtance, and eſchewe it with his might.

CHAP. XVII. ¶How Iupiter vanquiſhed in the battaile againſt Saturne his father: and Saturne fled by the ſea.

IN this battayle Iupiter ſaued oftentimes Saturne among the Swoordes of the Arcadiens, and did good againſt euill: many of them of Crete fought againſt heart, knowing that Saturne had begoon, and was cauſe of the warre: and, notwithſtanding they put theyr hands to worke, yet the faynte hartednes that they had among them, was cauſe of the loſſe of a right great number of people. They doubted Iupiter, and had no power to withſtande and fight, ſo well as they woulde haue done, if they had felt the quarrell good: and by this maner was the batteldemeaned, to the great preiudice of the Saturniens. Iupiter ſubmitted himſelfe to his father, and often times cried in his eare, that hee ſhould withdraw him, or the battaile would be worſe, or be loſt. Hee withſtoode his ſtroakes a great while, waiting that hee would conforme and conuert himſelfe from his euill opinion. But then at laſt, when Iupiter tooke héede, and ſawe that he would in no wiſe heare him, he opened and diſplayed his valour, and the great might of his armes and of his ſword, and made ſuch affray vpon his aduerſaries, breaking their helmes, and hewing their harneſſe, not in manner of a man hauing all day ſuſtained the feare of great ſtroakes and conflicts of the Saturniens: but in the manner of a Champion freſh and newe, of whome the ſtrokes redoubled.

Thus then it ſéemed vnto the Saturniens, that in multiplying of the horions and ſtroakes, the ſtrength and puiſſance of Iupiter beganne to reuiue and grow. His well dooing and valliance gaue vnto the Archadiens ſtrength vppon ſtrength: and vnto his enemies great loſſe of bloud, and alſo of life. There was the ground bedewed with newe bloud. There were dead bodies couered with new dead men. There was the chaire of Saturne ſmitten into péeces. Saturne helde a long while the battaile, as long as his might would endure: and in no wyſe would flée. But in concluſion, whan his men ſawe that the warre went with them alway from euill into worſe, they beganne to retire, and turned the backe and fled: and then Saturne turned and fled in likewiſe. Then they were followed in the chaſe, ſo ſharpely and deadly, that ſome were ſlaine in the way, and ſome ſaued themſelues nowe heere and nowe there. And among all other Saturne was ſo nigh purſued by Archas and ſome of the Archadiens, that he had no leiſure to returne into Crete, but was driuen by force, till he came vnto a port of the ſea that was thereby, where he ſaued himſelfe by meane of a ſhippe that hee there found: and there hee went vnto the ſea with ſome of them that fled, ſo ſore gréeued and penſife, that hee might not ſpeake, &c.

Thus this battaile ended, of the father and the ſonne. When Archas ſaw that Saturne was ſaued in the ſea, hée returned to Iupiter his father, and aſſembled againe his people, and tolde them theſe tydings, and alſo he aſſembled his councell for to wete what Iupiter ſhould do. And they of the councell were all of the opinion, that Iupiter ſhould go into Crete, and that they would make him king: ſaying, that the gods had ſhewed clearely, that they would that he ſhould ſuccéede as king in the Realme, which his father was fled from, for as much as they had then no head. To this counſaile accorded Iupiter, and went to Crete by ſpace of time where hee was receiued for king, for the citizens durſt not gaineſay it, for as much as they wiſt not where Saturne was become. And although Cibell and Veſca made great ſorrow for the miſfortune of Saturne, yet they turned their ſorrow into gladnes at the coronation of Iupiter: and ſent for Iuno. And then began Iupiter to reigne in diſtributing and departing vnto the Archadiens the treaſures of his father, whereof they had great ioy and gladneſſe: and for this cauſe (ſay the Poets) that Iupiter gelded and caſt his genitoyre into the ſea, of whom was engendred Venus: That is to ſay that he caſt the treators of his father into the bellies of his men, whereof engendred all voluptuouſneſſe, which is compared and likened vnto Venus.

CHAP. XVIII. ¶How Achiſius had a daughter named Danae, the which he did cauſe to be ſhut in a tower, for aſmuch as he had an anſwere, that ſhe ſhould haue a ſonne the which ſhould turne him into a ſtone.

IN thoſe daies when Iupiter of Crete flouriſhed in honor, ſtrength, proweſſe, and valiance, in the Citie of Argos reigned the right mightie king Acriſius, that cauſed his daughter Danaes to be be ſhut and kept in a tower. For to know the genealogie of this king Acriſius: in this part it is to be noted, that of Iupiter borne of Archade, and of a damoſel named Iſis, came a ſon named Epaphus: this Epaphus engendred a ſon and a daughter, the ſon was named Belus, and reigned in a part of Egypt, and the daughter had to name Libia, & diuelled in Affricque, where ſhe conceiued a ſon named Buſiris, that was an vnhumane tirant, as ſhal be ſaid hereafter in the déeds of Hercules. Belus then engendred two ſons, Danaus and Egyptus. Danaus had fiftie daughters, and Egyptus had as many ſons. And theſe ſons and daughters were conioyned together by marriage, wéening Egyptus right well to haue married his ſons, but hee was deceiued of his weening, for Danaus for enuie & couetouſnes to haue the ſucceſſion, made that by his daughters, traiterouſly ſhuld be murthered all the fiftie ſons of the ſaid Egyptus, the firſt night of their eſpouſals, as they ſlept. And all they conſented in this foule horrible crime of ſin, except one alone named Hypermneſtra, which had a ſtedfaſt heart of pittie: for, when ſhee ſhould haue perſecuted her huſband Linceus, ſhée ſaued his life mercifully: and alſo conceiued of his ſeed, a ſon that was named Abas, that after was king of Argos: and he engendred the king Acriſyus, whereof is made mention in the beginning of this chapter. Theſe were the parents and progenitours of king Acryſius: he was right puiſſant in riches, but he named himſelfe poore, for he had no children but one daughter onely, which he named Danaes: and for to haue a ſonne, hee went day by day into the temples and oracles of the gods: and there made prayers and ſacrifices inough, faſtings, almeſſes, and other ſuffrages. All theſe things might not helpe to bring to paſſe the accompliſhment of his deſire. His wife came vnto her barraine yeares, and hee was out of all hope to haue any childe male, and then he comforted him in Danaes his daughter, and ſet his loue ſo greatly on her, that he had no pleaſance but onely to be hold her: and hee purpoſed that neuer man ſhoulde haue her, but if it were the moſt noble and valliant man of the world. But for as much as in this world is nothing perdurable, this loue was of little enduring, and that by the procuring of the king Acryſius, for that the loue hee had in Danaes grew in ampliation of naturall ielouſie, hee went into the oracle of God Belus his olde Grand-father, and, ſearching what ſhould be the deſtinie of his daughter, he did cauſe him to be anſwered, that of her ſhould come a ſonne that ſhould turne him into a ſtone.

By this anſwere, Acryſius beganne to fall from the great loue that he had to his daughter: he returned ſorrrowfull and penſiue into his houſe; and became all melancolike, without taking ioy or pleaſure in any thing that he ſawe. His daughter was then yong: hee ſawe her often times, otherwhile in crueltie, and ſometime in pittie. The remorſe of that that he looked to be tranſformed into a ſtone, by him that by deſtinie ſhould be borne of his daughter, moued him to cruelty, in ſuch wiſe that often times he determined that he would put her to death, and ſo to ſpoyle his bloud, to the ende for to remedie his infortune. But when hée had taken in his hand the ſword wherewith he wéened to flea her, nature beganne to meddle and put in her ſelfe betwéene them and from this crueltie made him to condiſcend to pitie, and put awaye his ſword, and let the ſheading of her blood, that was come of his owne bloud, the which ſhoulde come vnto the ſucceſſion of his crowne which his auncient progenitours had ordayned before, &c.

For to ſaye the veritie: this king Acriſius from thence foorth tooke his reſt croſſed with many ſighes, and could not be aſſured of himſelfe. His daughter grewe, and became a woman: ſhée was paſſing fayre, and right comely. Many kings and great earthly Lordes deſired to haue her in mariage, and would haue endowed her with noble Crownes. But the king Acriſius refuſed all them that required her, and imagined, that his daughter, for her great beautie, might be taken awaye and rauiſhed, by which ſhe might by aduenture haue a ſonne that ſhould turne him vnto a ſtone. And to the ende to eſchewe this perill and daunger, he thought, that hée would make a Tower the ſtrongeſt in the world, and that in the ſame Tower ſhoulde his daughter Danaes be cloſed and ſhut, during her life, without coming of any man to her: for he was ſo ielous of her, that he beléeued her not well when he ſawe her. In the ende 〈◊〉 ſent for workemen, and forgers of ſteele, and of copper, from all parties, and brought them vnto a ſtrong place, 〈◊〉 enuyroned with waters, where was no entrie but in one place.

When hée hadde brought thither all his workemen, hée ſayd to them, that hée woulde haue a Tower made all of copper, with a gate ſeuerall from the Tower, to put in foure and twentie men of armes, for to kéepe the Tower if it were néede. The workemen bargayned with the king Acriſius, to make the Tower and the gate, and ſette on hand to the worke: the Tower was made in proceſſe of time: and then when all was achieued▪ Acriſius brought thither his daughter without letting her knowe his intencion. And as ſoone as ſhe was in the Tower, he ſayd to her: My only daughter, it is come vnto my knowledge, that in ſearching thy proſperitie, to my god Belus, I haue bin aduertiſed, that of thée ſhall come a ſonne, which ſhall conuert and turne me into a ſtone. Thou knoweſt that euery man naturally coueteth and deſireth ſafely to liue in his life. I loue thée paſſing well, and nothing in the worlde ſo much excepting my life. But certaine my life toucheth mee more néere to my heart, then thy loue: wherefore I ſéeking and requiring the remedies agaynſt my predeſtinate infortune, would neuer giue thée in marriage to any man that hath requyred or deſired thée. Alſo, to the ende that generation diſcend not of thy bodie, and, that thou ſhouldeſt haue no knowledge of man during my life, I haue made to bée framed this tower of copper, and will that thou be cloſed and ſhut therein, and that no man ſée thée. I pray thée my daughter, accord thée vnto my will and deſire: and take patience in this place for to paſſe thy time. I will prouide to accompanie thée with manie noble virgins, that ſhall giue vnto thée all that thou canſt or mayſt thinke néedfull, &c.

When the noble damoſell Danae vnderſtoode the will of her father, ſhe behelde the Tower of Copper made for to kéepe her ſhut faſt there in. And further, when ſhe conſidered that ſhe ſhould neuer marry during the life of her father the king, ſhe was ſore troubled about theſe things, and by great bitterneſſe with ſorrowfull heart began to wéepe, and ſaid: Alas my father, am I borne vnder ſo vnhappie a conſtellation, for to be a martyreſſe and priſoner, not in the end of my yeares, but in my young time? not in a priſon of ſtone, or of cement, but in a tower of Copper and Latton, in ſuch wiſe as I ſhould dwell therein, perpetually? Thou interpreteſt euill the ſentence of the God Belus, ſaying that of me ſhall be borne a ſonne that ſhall turne thée into a ſtone: For, by this ſentence ought none other thing to be vnderſtoode, but that I ſhall haue a ſonne that ſhall raigne after thée, and ſhall turne thée into a ſtone. That is to ſay, that hee ſhall put thée into thy Sepulchre. Beholde, then what ſimpleneſſe ſhall it be to thée to beholde me thus encloſed and ſhut in this Tower. My daughter (anſwered Acriſius) thou interpreteſt the Prognoſtication of our god Belus after that thée lyketh, to thy ioy and profite. It lyeth me ſore on my heart, that if thou haue a ſonne, he ſhall put me to death: and that is my iudgement and feare. Gainſay no more me, I am thy father, Lord, and maiſter ouer thée, thou ſhalt abide here, either by loue, or otherwiſe. At this concluſion when Danae ſaw that ſhe might not content her fearefull father, as wiſe and ſage as ſhe was, ſhe agréed and accorded to do his pleaſure, yéelding to it with the mouth, and not with the heart. And then the king ſent for virgins, and alſo olde matrones in all the Realme about; and deliuered his daughter vnto them for to accompanie, ſerue, and kéepe her, and made them all to be ſhut and cloſed in with her. After, he tooke his leaue of them, commaunding them vpō pain of death, that they ſhuld not ſuffer any man to come and ſpeake with his daughter, without his witting and knowledge. When he had thus done, he returned into the Citie of Argos, and aſſembled fortie ſtrong women, which he gaue wages, and pay to, and ſent them to kéepe the gate, and the entrie of the Tower. And then ſpread the renowme of theſe things, in ſo great a ſound and noyſe, that all Grece was full of the tydings, and there was no King ne Prince, but that complained the loſſe of the youth of faire Danae, then holden and named the moſt faire of al the Greekiſh maidens, daughter of the king, &c.

CHAP. XIX. ¶Howe Iupiter, in guiſe of a meſſenger brought vnto the Tower of Dardan, to the Damoſels, and to Danae, many Iewels, faigning that he came from Iupiter.

BY this Tower, and by this meane Acriſius thought to ouercome his predeſtinate miſfortune, and was well eaſed that his Daughter was in ſo ſure and ſafe a place. All the world ſpake of her, and of her Tower: by compaſſion they complained her ſtate, and it was ſo much ſpoken of this cauſe, that Iupiter had his eares full thereof: and not onely his eares, but alſo his heart: for in hearing the recommendation of the exceſſiue perfection of this virgine. Danae, he was amorous of her greatly and deſirouſly, aſſoone as the mariage of him and Iuno had bin conſummated. And then he began with all his heart, to thinke how and when, or in what maner he might come to ſée this Damoſell Danae. And ſo much he thought and ſtudied in this matter, that there was none other thing that hée woulde heare of, nor no conferences of his men, ſaue only of them that ſpake of the pryſon of Danae. And hée ſpake chéerefullye, and talked with all diligence, couetting inſtantly to be with her, and that as well in the preſence of Iuno, as otherwiſe: ſaying, many times, that he would that the Gods would giue him grace and power to bring this Damoſell Danae out of the Tower. &c.

By this meane and theſe ſpéeches, Iuno was in doubte, and began to feele the firſt ſparkle of ielowſie, caſting infinite curſes and maledictions vpon Danae, and vpon all them that had ſowen thoſe tidings before her huſband. This ſhée ſhewed not only in couert and in her ſtomacke, but more openly in the preſence of her huſbande, ſhewing euidently that ſhe had the attaint of ielouſly. This notwithſtanding, Iupiter was neuertheleſſe deſirous for to ſée Danae more then hée was before. The maleditions ne curſes might not let ne withdrawe his affections which grewe more and more. In the end he found himſelf ſo rauiſhed with her loue that there was no more continence found in him. To conclude, hée deuiſed intencions and concluſions, and purpoſed to go vnto the guardiens and kéepers of the Damoſell Danae, and that he would beare vnto them ſo largely and ſo many owches of golde and Iewels, with money of golde, that hée would turne them with his giftes to accorde to him, and let him enter into the tower of Danaes. Then hée ſente for the Iewellers, that were woont to ſerue his father Saturne, and made them make the moſt rich Iewels and Owches that were euer ſéene or thought. When the workmen had made a part, Iupiter tooke them, and laded him therewith, and euill cloathed like as he had béene a ſeruant, he alone departed from Crete, and drewe him to Argos, the moſt ſecretlie that he might, and ſo went and came ſéeking the Tower of Dardan. Which he found in an euening, and ſaw the wals ſhining, and came vnto the gate, where he found many of the matrones ſitting at the doore, for recreation, &c.

When Iupiter was comen, he ſaluted the Matrones, and ſaid vnto them: Noble dames, the good night come to you. What Tower is this, of ſo noble and ſo ſtrong faſhion? Fayre ſonne, ſaid the eldeſt of them, ye be not of this Countrey, foraſmuch as ye knowe not the name of this Tower. Know ye certainly that it is named the Tower of Dardain, and this is the proper place that the king Acriſius hath cauſed to make for to keepe his daughter the virgin Danae in, which is a Damoſell ſo furniſhed with all vertues and honourable maners, that her like is not in all this world: But, the poore maid is ſo much infortunate, that her father Acriſius holdeth her in this Tower ſhut, for that he hath an anſwere of his goddes, that of his daughter Danae ſhould bee borne a childe that ſhould turne him into a ſtone. This is cauſe wherefore we be and kéepe her that no man may conuerſe with her in no faſhiō. And her father is the king Acriſius, which is ſo ſore ſmitten to the heart with iealouſie, that if he knew of your being here, he would ſende to deſtroy you. And therefore withdrawe you, and go foorth on your way. Iupiter hearing the anſwere of the woman, gaue no regard vnto her words, ſauing that he heard with his eares: for he employed his eyes vnto the marking of the Tower: and ſéeing that it was impregnable for anie aſſault, as well for the ſtrength of the place where it was founded on, as for that it was nigh the Citie of Argos, which was right ſtrong: he conſidered in himſelfe, that for to come and ſée this mayde he coulde not obtaine but by the meane of theſe women. And then thus he aunſwered to the old woman: I thanke you of your good aduertiſement: I am much beholden vnto you, but I ſhall yet ſay more vnto you, if it pleaſe you, I am ſent vnto the damoſels of this place from the right mightie king Iupiter of Crete, for to deliuer to them certaine preſents on his behalfe, Wherefore I pray you, that it pleaſe you to giue mee aſſiſtaunce to ſpeake with them. When the olde matrone vnderſtoode of Iupiter, and that he brought preſents vnto the Damoſels: ſhe aunſwered him, that he was right welcome, and made him to enter into a little Chamber (which was by the gate, for to ſpeake therein to their friends when they came to viſit them.) And then ſhe went into the chamber of Danae, and there aſſembled all the women of the place, and ſayde vnto them. My fellowes, the King Iupiter of Crete gréeteth you well by one of his ſeruants, whom I haue put into the Chambret of the gate: he hath ſayde to me, that he hath brought certaine preſents. Sée ye nowe whether ye will receyue them or not: and what I ſhall anſwere to the meſſenger, &c.

The Damoſels were right ioyous and glad, when they heard theſe tydings, and tooke their councell togither, and concluded, that they would take and receiue theſe preſents of the king Iupiter. Then they deſcended into the chambret, and feaſted the meſſenger, which did them reuerence, and ſaide to them: Ladies, and Damoſels, your renowme is ſo great, that it hath moued the king Iupiter to deſire your loue. In ſigne of which, he hath ſent to you of his Iewels, and prayeth you to receiue them in good part, and he recommendeth him vnto the right noble grace of your Miſtreſſe the kings daughter. With theſe wordes Iupiter opened his ſacke of leather, wherein were his Iewels, and deliuered them vnto the damſels: When they had receiued, and ſaw them what they were, they were all abaſhed for to ſée things ſo precious, and ſayd that they would go and ſhewe them to their Miſtreſſe. And foorth they went vp into the tower, and ſhewed their preſents vnto Danae: ſignifying to her, that the king Iupiter recommended him vnto her noble grace. As ſoone as this noble virgin had ſéene theſe Iewels, ſhe ſaide, that it muſt néedes be that Iupiter was rich and liberall: and ſaid moreouer, that the gift that he had giuen was more of value then all the Realme of Argos: and alſo, that ſhe would that the man that had brought theſe Iewels, where feaſted as it appertaineth, and alſo willed that Iupiter ſhould be thanked in her name. Then the Damoſels by the commandement of Danae, went to feaſt the meſſenger of king Iupiter, the beſt wiſe that they might, the moſt part of the night in eating and drinking. And then came the aged woman that had firſt ſpoken with him, and ſaide to him: My ſonne, the maiden Danae thanketh the king Iupiter of the courteſie that it hath pleaſed him to do her Damoſelles: and, ſhée taketh her ſelfe greatly beholden to him, and to you that haue taken the paine to bring them: and if there may pleaſe you any thing héerein, ſpare not this houſe.

Dame (anſwered Iupiter) ye do mee too much honour by the one halfe: if there bee any thing in Crete to your pleaſure, aſke you it, and certainely ye ſhall haue it with good heart. And thus they talked ſo long that it was time to withdraw him thence. Iupiter tooke leaue of the damoſelles, and concluded that he would returne into his countrey, on the morrow early. What ſhall I ſay more? Iupiter tooke this night as much reſt as he might, and had the heart ſo ſurpriſed, that he awoke more then he néeded: for the houre was not come that he attended to ſpeake to Danae. He returned ſecretly into Crete, and cauſed to be made newe iewels much more rich and more precious then the other were, for to go againe, and preſent to the damoſels. And as ſoone as was to him poſſible, he gathered iewels together as many as would loade an horſe. After this; on a morning early he loaded an horſe with theſe iewels, and without wéeting of any perſon, with the ſame he ſo laboured on his way, that without any hinderance hee came vnto the tower. And there aſſembled the damoſels, and did them reuerence, and ſaide to them. Ladies and damoſels, the king Iupiter hath you ſo in his grace, that knowing by the report of me, what feaſting and welcome ye made lately for his iewels: hee hath ſent vnto you other, and in his name I preſent to you theſe iewels that I haue nowe brought: praying that the preſent may be acceptable and wel thought of: and that it pleaſe you to do ſo much vnto your miſtreſſe that I might a little ſpeake with her, for to aduertiſe her, if it pleaſe her, of certaine ſecret things that touch her, and wherewith I am charged by Iupiter.

CHAP. XX. ¶How Iupiter in the guiſe of a meſſenger, with many iewels, came the ſecond time to ſee Danaes: and how he ſpake and gaue to her in knowledge what he was: and how he lay with her that night.

WHen Iupiter had atchieued his purpoſe, he ſhewed forth his merchandiſe, and when the matrones had vnderſtood of Iupiter, that he deſired to haue grace to ſpeake with Danaes, they went vnto the maide, by the councell of the olde woman, for to haue her opinion: and coming to her, the olde woman ſpake for them all, and ſaide: my daughter, the king Iupiter. hath ſent hither the burthen of a horſe of the moſt faireſt Iewels that euer ye ſawe. Certes it is a gallant ſight to ſée them: notwithſtanding wee durſt not receiue them, for aſmuch as the meſſenger requireth to ſpeake with you, which is forbidden vs by your father. Conſider what wee ſhall doo: wée be greatly beholden vnto the king Iupiter for his courteſies, but when wee thinke on the ſtraight commandement of your father, we wot not what to do. When the maide Danaes had heard the words and the tidings of the olde woman, ſhe was right penſiſe: but for all that, ſhe ſpared not to ſay that, that her heart iudged beſt: and thus anſwered. My mother, ye know well, and it néedeth not to tell you, that he that doth ſhewe loue and courteſie, ought to be thanked by kindneſſe. The king Iupiter (as ye haue to me ſaide) hath often times done for vs. And ſéeing the firſt good commeth from him, me thinketh, vnder all corrections, that we may well ſuffer him to ſpeake with me. It is a ſmall matter for his ſeruant to ſpeake a word with me. The king my father ſhall neuer know it: it is no neede that he know all that ſhall fall: but firſt ſhew to him, how it is charged you vppon death, that no man ſpeake with me. And make him promiſe and ſweare, that he ſhall kéepe this matter ſecret.

The Damoſels and the olde woman, ioyous of the anſwere of the maide, went downe from the tower, to the gate, and finding Iupiter buſie to open abroad and vnbinde his iewels, the old woman ſaid vnto him: Faire ſonne, the king Iupiter hath found more grace héere in this place anenſt the maide Danaes, then all the men in the world. Neuertheleſſe ye muſt know, that vpon paine of death, it is to you forbidddn, and to other by vs: And, wee be alſo charged vppon the ſame paine, by the King Arcriſius, that wée ſhall let no man liuing ſpeake with her. The commandement of the king is ſo great, and your requeſt is not little. Certes we dare not bring you vnto her, al thing conſidered: For, if it were knowen, without faile we ſhould be all put into the fire. And peraduenture, if ye were found héere within, by the king that cometh often times hither, he would put you to death. Wherfore we pray you excuſe vs againſt your maiſter. At hearing of this anſwere, Iupiter founde not that hee ſought: and then hee helde him more néere in diſpaire, then he did in hope: but he remembred, that a begger ſhuld not go away for once warning, & ſaid vnto the old woman, to the beginning of her anſwere: Dame, ye do wel if ye feare and dread the king, which is to me no meruaile. Yet his commaundement is not ſo ſtrait, but that ye may enlarge it if ye will: he hath commanded that none ſhal ſpeake with her. The king Iupiter requireth that his ſeruant may ſaye to her certaine things in ſecrete, touching her honour: ye ſhall do that pleaſeth you, but in truth if ye accorde him his requeſt, the accord ſhall not be preiudiciall to you in anye thing. For the king Iupiter is no pratler and knoweth ſo much of the worlde, that vnto you he hadde not ſent me, if he hadde not founde me ſecrete. And thus if ye will doo to him anye pleaſure, ye haue none excuſacion reaſonable. None knoweth heereof but you and I. If I ſpeake vnto the mayde by your conſent, who ſhall accuſe vs? it ſhall not be ye, for that the matter toucheth you. And it ſhall not be I, nor the King Iupiter: for certainly we had leuer die in ſorrowfull death, and alſo abide in greeuous payne. &c.

Faire ſonne, anſwered the old woman, ye ſpeake ſo ſwéetely, that we may not nor can giue vnto you the refuſe of your requeſt. We dare well affye, and truſt in you. Alas dame (anſwered Iupiter) doubt you? When I ſhall fault againſt you or any other, I wiſh to be ſmitten with the thunder and tempeſt. I would verily that ye had the prerogatiue to know my inward thoughtes, to the end that in iudging of my mind yee might be aſſured of mee, not to haue by my cauſe any inconuenience. With theſe words, Iupiter drew to his will the olde woman, and all the Damoſels as well by his ſubtil language as by his riches. For to vſe ſhort proceſſe, the olde woman accorded to Iupiter, that he ſhall haue the grace to ſpeake with the mayde, and brought him before her, with all his preſents: Iupiter had then more ioy then I can write.

And when he was thus aboue in the towre of Dardane, in beholding the ample beauty of Danae his ioy doubled, and he knew her well by her beautie, and made vnto her reuerence, ſaying. Right noble & accompliſhed damoſell, the king Iupiter ſaluteth you by me, and ſendeth vnto the women of this houſe, of ſuch goddes as fortune hath giuen to him: if it be your pleaſure they ſhall receiue them: and after I will ſaye vnto you certayn things ſecrete, which the king Iupiter your ſeruaunt, hath charged me to faye vnto you. My fréende anſwered Danae, ſauing your honour the King, Iupiter is not my ſeruaunt, but I my ſelfe am beholden to him, and am his ſeruant, and thanke him of his bounty: it ſéemeth as he had reygned golde in this place. It is acceptable to me that the women of this tower haue your preſents. And it pleaſeth me well alſo to heare your charge, to the ende that King Iupiter, ſhould not ſay that I were vnkinde, &c.

The matrons and the Damoſels were preſent at this anſwer, Iupiter deliuered vnto them his Iewels which they receyued with great galdnes. After that Danae tooke the meſſenger by the hand, and led him a parte vnto the beddes ſide, where ſhe made him to leane by her. And then when Iupiter founde himſelfe all alone with Danae he ſayde vnto her: right noble Damoſell, I no more call you Damoſell, but Lady: For ye are my lady and my only myſtres, which haue mayſtred mine heart, and alſo haue ouercome me vnder the ſownd and bruit of your glorious reports & name. For to aduertiſe you, verily I am Iupiter, of whome now I haue ſpoken to you at the preſentation of the iewels, and it is truth, that it is not long fithen, when I was in my Realme, for to heare reported the maner how your Father helde you ſhutte in this Tower (with litle good that maye accorde vnto your honoure) as well for to gette your thanke and grace, as for pittie wherewith I was mooued, I haue deliberated in my heart to employe my ſelfe vnto your deliueraunce, and alſo for to gette your grace. And for to execute this deliberation, I haue taken parte of my treſours, and haue come hither to preſent them vnto your Damoſels, and ſo departed: and of newe am comen again, in hope to haue your loue, whereof I am wel content and thanke mercy and fortune. Alas madame, if I be ſo hardy as for to haue put my ſelf in ye aduēture of my life for to ſhew the great loue that I haue to you. Excuſe me, if I haue enterpriſed a thing ſo hie that I ne me holde worthie to attaine, but in the affiance of fortune, and inſomuch as ſhée will fauour in this partie. Madame then in conſideration of my wordes, ye may ſée my life, or my death, and yee onely may lightly make the iudgement. If your humilitie condiſcend in the knowledge of pitie that I haue had of you, expoſing my ſelfe into the daunger, where I might bee ſure, I am nowe nigh the ieopardie which ye may ſaue: and if not I yéelde me your priſoner. Certes, the ſhining reſplendiſſour of your renowmed beautie, whereof the méede paſſeth the renowme and the triumph of your incomparable excellency, hath enraged mine heart, and brought me hither into the priſon of your will. Alas Madame, behold, and ſée with your eyes full of ſwéetneſſe, and of clemencie, mee which ſée not at this tyme, but languiſh for fault of reſt in continuall trauaile, in furies redoubled, and in ſighes vpon ſighes, which may not be puruaied of remedie, but by your benignitie and amorous good will.

At the beginning of the firſt recommendation that was made of you in my preſence, and at the poynt that I enterpriſed to deliuer you out of this Tower, I beheld my ſelfe right ioyfull and happie, becauſe of ſo hie an enterpriſe: but ſéeing the perils that I finde my ſelfe in ſince, I wote neuer what I may ſay of my ſelfe. For by moneth vpon moneth, wéeke vpon wéeke, and day vpon day, your name hath had domination on me. And oft times hath conſtrained mée to be rauiſhed, and yet more in a traunce by deſire to ſpeake to you, and to imagine howe I ſhould come to the poynt where I nowe am, and not onelie in this, but alſo to finde mercie in you. And I pray and require you right humbly, that the amourous gift of mercie ye will to me accord, and thus doing, ye ſhall do mercie to your ſelfe, and haue pitie of your yong daies, which you haue conſented to looſe by the fooliſh fantaſies of the king your father. Ye know well that (his life during) he will not ſuffer you to be married to any man. It is poſſible that your father ſhall liue as long as you, for he is ſtrong of members, hard and boyſtrous. Alſo ye ought conceyue if ye will beléeue me, that your life hath no wealth nor pleaſance. Onely the pleaſances come vnto the people by the ſight, and by beholding of diuerſe things. The women ſingularly haue their principall pleaſures in their huſbands, and in their generation and lynages. Ye may come here to, but then ye muſt haue mercie on your ſelfe. Is it not in your conceyte and knowledge that no man hath but his life in this world? Foraſmuch as ye obey and yéeld to the fooliſh commaundement of your father the King Acriſius, ye ſhall be a woman loſt: being in this place, it is not poſſible to take and haue patience. This is too hard a thing vnto a yong heart to be put in priſon without demerite. I knowe the humaine affections, and vnderſtande that natually euerie creature loueth his profite before the profite of another. This is agaynſt your proſperitie and vtilitie, from which ye be ſhut here within. Howe may ye haue loue vnto him which is cauſe of two euils? The leſſe euill is to bee choſen, ſince that you féele you condemned here vnto the ende of the dayes of your father. Doubt ye not but his ende is oft deſired to his death, for your ſake: and his death may not bee effected without great charge of conſcience. Me thinketh that better it were for you in diuerſe conſiderations to finde way to iſſue and go out of this place, and to take to huſband ſome noble & puiſſant man, that wold enterpriſe to carrie you away ſecretelie for to be his wife in his Countrey. By this meane ye ſhall be deliuered from the paine that ye be in: ye may eſchew the death of your father, and leſſe euill yee ſhould doo in breaking his fooliſh commaundement, then to abyde in the poynt where hee hath put you. Madame, alas thinke ye here on for your honour and health: (as I haue ſayde vnto you) I am your ſeruaunt, and if it pleaſe you to depart from this place, ye ſhall finde no man readier then I am: for to kéepe you, and to ſaue you, I giue my ſelfe vnto your noble commaundements, for to furniſh your will to my power, as he that beareth alway the remembrance of you in the moſt déepeſt place of my mind: in ſléeping I ſée you, and waking I thinke on you. I haue had neuer reſt in my ſelfe, nor neuer ſhall haue, but if it pleaſe you. My fortune, my deſtinie, my happe and vnhap come of you. If yee take me vnto your mercie, and that I finde grace with you, I ſhall bée the moſt happieſt of all happie. And if ye do otherwiſe, it may be ſayde that among all vnhappie, none ſhall go before me. But if ſuch fortune ſhall come to me by your rigour, I will take it in patience, for the nobleneſſe that I ſée in you alway, I require you that my heart be not depriued ne put from your heart, for as much as it toucheth me nearely. All the tongues of men can not ſay, nor expreſſe the quantitie of the loue that I haue in you, no more then they can pronounce by proper name, all the ſtarres of heauen. By this loue I am alway in thoughts, labours, in ſighs, anguiſhes, and often times in great feare and doubt. At this houre I wot not whether I liue or not, becauſe me thinketh I am héere for to receiue abſolution, or a mortall ſentence. Theſe things conſidered, alas will not ye haue him in your grace, that for to deſerue your loue and mercy, hath abandoned and aduentured his life, as ye may ſée, leauing his royall eſtate, the better to kéepe his cauſe ſecret. Vnto an hart wel vnderſtanding, few words ſuffice. For concluſion, I pray you to giue your heart vnto him that hath giuen his heart vnto you: and that ye prouide from henceforth for the ill caſe ye now be in, after the common iudgement.

With this, Iupiter held his peace, and kept ſilence, and lent his eares for to heare what ſhould be the anſwere of Danae. The right noble damoſell, when ſhe had heard his talke, which ſhe had ſore noted: and whē ſhe ſaw that he had giuen her ſpace to ſpeake, ſhe was reſolued, and changed colour and ſaid to him. Sir king, alas know ye well, what would be the renowme that would abide with me, if I ſhuld

and not onely in this, but alſo to find mercy in you. And I pray you right humbly, that out of the amorous gift of mercy, ye will to mée accord, and in this doing, ye ſhall do mercy to your ſelf, and have pity of your young daies, which you have conſented to loſe, by the fooliſh fantaſies of the King your Father. Ye know well (that during his life) he will not ſuffer you to be married to any man. It is poſſible that your Father may live as long as you, for he is ſtrong and boyſterous. Alſo ye ought to conceive if ye will beléeve mée, that your life hath no wealth nor pleaſure. Onely the pleaſures come unto the people by the ſight, and by beholding of divers things. The woman ſingularly have their principal pleaſures in their Husbands, and in their generation and linages. Ye may come hitherto, but then you muſt have mercy on your ſelf. Is it not in your conceit and knowledge that no man hath but his life in this world. Foraſmuch as ye obey the fooliſh commandment of your Father the King Achriſius, yée ſhall be a woman loſt: being in this place, it is not poſſible to have patience. This is too hard a thing unto a young heart, to bée put in priſon without demerit. I know the humane affections, and underſtand that naturally every creature loveth his profit before the profit of another. This is againſt your proſperity and utility, from which ye be ſhut here within. How may you have love unto him which is cauſe of two evils. The leſſe evil is to be choſen, ſince that you féel your ſelf condemned here unto the end of the daies of your Father, doubt you not, but his end is oft deſired for your ſake: and his death may not be effected without great charge of conſcience. Mée thinketh that better it were for you to find way to iſſue out of this place, and to take to husband ſome noble and puiſſant man, that would enterprize to carry you away ſecretly for his wife into his Countrey. By this means you ſhall be delivered from the pain that you be in: you may eſchew the death of your Father, and leſſe evil you ſhall do in breaking his fooliſh commandment, then to abide in the point where he hath put you. (I have ſaid unto you) I am your ſervant, and if it pleaſe you to depart from this pla • e, you ſh • ll find no man readier then I am, for to ſave you: I give my ſelf unto your noble commandments, to nouriſh your will to my power, as he that beareth alway in remembrance of you in the moſt déepeſt place of my mind: in ſléeping I ſée you, and waking▪ I think on you. I have had no reſt in my ſelf, nor never ſhall have, but if it pleaſe you. My fortune, my deſtiny, comes of you▪ If you take mée unto your mercy, and that I find grace with you▪ I ſhall be the moſt happieſt of all happy. And if ye do otherwiſe, it may be ſaid, that among all unhappie, none ſhall go before mée. But if ſuch Fortune ſhall come to mée by your rigour, I will take it in patience, for the nobleneſſe that I ſée in you alway, I require you that my heart bee not deprived, nor put from your heart, foraſmuch as it toucheth mée nearly. All the tongues of men cannot expreſſe the quantity of the love that I have in you, no more then they can pronounce by proper name all the Stars of Heaven. By this love I am alway in thoughts, labours, in ſighs, anguiſhes, and oftentimes in great fear. At this hour, I know not whether I live or not, becauſe mée thinketh I am here to receive abſolution, or a mortal ſentence. Theſe things conſidered, alas will not yee have him in your grace, that for to deſerve your love and mercy, hath abandoned and adventured his life as yee may ſée, leaving his Royal eſtate, the better to kéep his cauſe ſecret. Vnto an heart well underſtanding, few words ſuffice. For concluſion, I pray you to give your heart to him, that hath given his heart unto you: and that ye conſider from henceforth for the ill conceit yée now be in, after the common judgement.

With this Jupiter held his peace, and lent his ears for to hear what ſhould be the anſwer of Danae, The right noble Damoſel: When ſhe ſaw that he had given her ſpace to ſpeak, ſhée was reſolved, and changed colour and ſaid to him. Sir King, • las know ye well, what would be the Renown that would abide with mée, if I 〈◊〉

beléeve your counſel? What would the people ſay? Madam, anſwered Jupiter, the worſt that they may ſay, ſhall be, that men will name you diſobedient unto the fooliſh commandment of your Father, which as all men knoweth, holdeth you fondly in this Priſon. And if yee will thus help your ſelf, and convey your ſelf away, men would but laugh, for your youth would excuſe your doing, and yee ſhould bee reported to have done this déed by great wiſdome. Ah, Sir, ſaid Danae, ye go about to deceive mée by your fair words: I know the ſpeeches of the Argiens, and alſo know that I am bound to obey my Father: Furthermore, I am not ſo ignorant, but that I would well have ſome noble-man to my Husband ſo as mine honour were ſaved: and alſo, I confeſſe that I am greatly beholden to him that hath ſent ſo liberally and ſo largely of his treaſures and Iewels, and in likewiſe unto you, if it be truth, that ye bée him that ye ſay that ye are. But when I have conſidered, and underſtood, and ſéen viſibly, that the Argiens would defame mée to perpetuity, and that my Father would ſend mée where mine honour ſhould ſtrongly be abaſed and put underfoot, by your proper declaration, I will in no wiſe deal hardly with you, neither ſhall you have any diſturbance for my cauſe. But I pray you to think on the other ſide, of mine honour, and that ye ſuffer mée alone with my company and friends.

Dame (anſwered Jupiter) be ye in doubt of mée that I am not Jupiter King of Creet? If I be any other, all the Gods confound mée, and the Thunder fall on mée, the ſwallow of the Sea receive mée, and that I be given to be meat unto the moſt venemous beaſts of the world. O Madam, put no ſuſpition in my doing: as I have ſaid to you, I am come to you not in Royal eſtate, but in ſimple array for to order my matters more ſecretly: then accord ye this requeſt. Take yee day of adviſe, and grant to morrow I may ſpeak once to you, and counſel you well this night.

The noble Maid Danae had then her blood ſo moved, that ſhe durſt not behold Jupiter: for ſhame ſmote her in the eyes. This notwithſtanding, her heart commanded her to try what man he was, and whether he had the ſtate of a Noble-man or a King. At laſt ſhe took day of adviſe, and accorded to him that ſhe would ſpeak again to him on the morrow. After this, ſhe commanded the Tables to be covered by the Damoſels, and ſaid, that ſhée would feaſt the meſſenger of the King Jupiter. The Damoſels hearing that, anſwered they were all much bound to feaſt him, and ſhewed to her the riches that they had, all along in the Chamber, whereof the walls ſhone and were bright: The Damoſels arrayed with the Iewels of Jupiter, garniſhed the Tables with meat. Danae and Jupiter were ſet the one againſt the other: the ſeruice was great and rich, and they had enough to eat, yet Jupiter nor Danae gave little force of eating, Jupiter eat leſſe bodily, then ſpiritually, he was in trances, in doubts, and fears: He had an anſwer by which he could not gather any thing to his profit, ſave onely that he hoped that Danae would diſcover it unto the Damoſels, as the young maidens bee of cuſtome to diſcover the one to the other, and as when any requireth them of love, that they ſhould ſhew favour to him, the more for his gifts. In this eſtate was King Jupiter for his part. The Damoſels beheld him enough and ſaid, that he had not the behaviour of a yeoman or ſervant, but of a man of very noble and great eſtate, and above all other, Danae, to whom Jupiter had given cauſe to be penſive, caſt her eyes upon Jupiter, upon his countenance, his geſture, and beauty, and then it ſéemed that he had ſaid truth, as well then as the night before: ſhe began to féel the ſparkles of Love, and ſéeing his riches that he had given in the houſe, ſhe determined to give him her heart and love. On this reſolution, to which her heart concluded, ſhe was firmly ſetled, yet her mind was enterlaced with abundant thoughts. • any Noble-men had required her love before time, that ſhée was ſhut in the Tower, and could never turn her heart, nor cauſe • er once to ſigh or think on th • ir requeſts. The onely words of • upiter were ſo effectual and happy, that they conſtrained her to • ear them, and to become penſ • ve, breaking all doubts and contrary opinions.

CHAP. XXI. How Jupiter came from his Chamber by night, and lay in the Tower of Dardan, with the Damoſel Danae on whom he begate the noble Perſeus.

SO long dured the feaſting of Jupiter that it was time to with-draw from thence. Then Danae took leave of Jupiter and did convey him into a ſecret Chamber by her Damoſels. When Jupiter was departed, ſhe entred into her Chamber, a ••

was enterlarded with aboundant thoughtes. Many noble men had required her loue, before time that ſhe was ſhutte in the Tower: and could neuer turne her heart nor cauſe her once to ſighe or thinke on their requeſtes. The only words of Iupiter were ſo effectual and happie, that they conſtrayned her to heare them and to become penſife, breaking all doubts and contrary opinions.

CHAP. XXI. How Iupiter came from his chamber by night, and lay in the tower of Dardane with the damoſell Danae, on whome he engendred the noble Perſeus.

SO long dured the feaſting of Iupiter, that it was houre and time to withdrawe thence. Then Danae tooke leaue of Iupiter, and did conuey him into a ſecrete chamber by her damoſels. When Iupiter was departed, ſhe entred into her chamber,

accompanyed onely with the olde woman that was her miſtreſſe, which had charge on her aboue all other, and as ſoone as the olde woman had her priuily in her chamber: as ſhe that was ſuſpitious ſayde to her: my daughter, tell mée of your tidings, I muſt néedes knowe what thing this meſſenger hath ſayde to you. Dame aunſwered Danae, will ye witte? yea ſayd the old woman. Then anſwered Danae, he muſt come himſelfe, and make the re • ort, for he hath ſayde to me ſo many things, that the tenth parte is not in my minde. My daughter (ſayd the olde woman) I thinke well he is not come hither without cauſe. What hath he ſayd? if ye haue not all in minde, tell me at leaſt that abideth and reſteth in your mind. Dame (anſwered Danae) ye knowe well that neuer I miſtruſted you, and that the ſecretnes of myne heart to you hath alway bin open: I wil now make no new cuſtomes. For to ſhort this matter, he that nameth himſelfe ſeruant of Iupiter, is Iupiter himſelfe (by report) and hath made great oaths, that hee hath made theſe preſents and gifts for to ſpeake to me. Indéed he hath ſhewed to me how I looſe héere my time, and hath required me to be his wife. To which I haue not yet conſented, but haue taken day for to giue an anſwere to morrow, hoping to take your counſell, and therfore I pray you that ye counſell me in that I haue to doo, and what anſwere he ſhall haue of me. Ye know how I haue ſuffered his gifts to be receiued: he muſt be therefore ſatiſfied by ſome maner, either by faire ſpéech, or otherwiſe.

The old woman had béen before time in the houſe of king Meliſeus, and there had ſéene Iupiter in the time of his return from his conqueſt of Archadie, and had partly knowne him ſince the firſt day that he came thither. This notwithſtanding, ſhe doubted of his perſon, for as much as men otherwhile be like one to another, and ſhe had alway her eie on him. When then ſhe had vnderſtood by Danae, that had told her that he was Iupiter, ſhe was ſure that it was he in his perſon, and had great ioy, ſaying. My daughter, certainely I know him that we ſpeake of, and haue talked with him of long time paſt. And for his perſon I aſſure you, it is hee that he hath done you to vnderſtand of. But for to perſwade or counſell you, if yee take him vnto your huſband, I can ſay none otherwiſe to you, but that hee is one of the moſt valianteſt men of the world, and that his enterpriſes bee right high. And if I had a daughter the moſt beſt manered of the world, there is no man liuing that I would giue her ſooner vnto, then to him, if it pleaſed him to take hir. Ye ſée that notwithſtanding his ſimple aray, hee is a goodly man, hee is noble, hee is rich, hee is wiſe, hée is a king. Ye feele in your ſelfe your courage, if ye will vſe and obſerue the commandement of your father, ye may not with him holde conſiſtorie ne parlement. If ye will abſent you from this place by good meanes, there is no man but Iupiter that may helpe you. I counſell you neither the one nor the other, chooſe ye and take ye the beſt way, &c.

Ah my mother (ſayd Danae) howe ſhould I chooſe my ſelfe? there is in me neither wit, nor reaſon to take that I ſhould chooſe, ne for to diſcerne the good from the euill. And as for me, I ſhall put it all into your deliberation, and will that yee knowe that out of this Tower would I faine be, (mine honour ſaued, and the honour ſaued of my companie.) With this came in to them all the damoſes of the houſe, and ſaid to her, that they had made right good chéere to their gueſt: and thus failed the ſecret conference of Danae, & of the aged woman. The damoſels went & ſet their iewels, newly preſented to them, and parted to each of thē her portion, ſaying: that to king Iupiter was none like, but that he was among al other the moſt bountifull, & moſt honorable king of kings.

The maid Danae took great pleaſure with al theſe things. When the damoſels had parted among them their iewels of gold with great ioy, they brought Danae to bed, & departed from her chamber, which they left open by forgetting, as they that had ſet all their mind and thought on their riches, and ſo went to their beds into their chambers. Iupiter lying in his bedde at this houre, found himſelfe ſo ſurpriſed with couetouſnes of loue, that he was conſtrained to ariſe, and to looke out at a window to behold if the day approched, lifting his eyes againe to the ſtars of heauen, and was rauiſhed in his heart by the remembrance of faire Danae, and ſaide 〈◊〉 noble Danae, that hath more beautye than the ſtarre • ning, and that ſhineth by ſoueraigne clearneſſe: alas, whe • be ye this houre? the paine that I indure for your cauſe, yée know not, nor the great ieopardie, & the perillous caſe that I haue put me in, to attaine your loue. Vnkindneſſe, may ſhe haue place in you, with diſdaine, rigor and fierceneſſe, which be mine enemies enuenomed with mortall venom? O Danae, remember your ſelfe of me. And thou fortune that haſt ſuccored me in al my affairs, ſuccour me in this preſent néed.

With this worde his complaint ceaſed, and he gaue his minde ſo many ſharp thoughtes that pearced his heart right penſiuely. This thought was great, and touching a right aduenturous enterpriſe. When all was doone hée determined in himſelfe to aſſay if he might come to the ende of his thought, and arayed and clothed himſelfe, and went out of his chamber vnto the tower, where he ſawe the doore open to his ſéeming, and finding it true that it was open, hée went vp as ſoftly as he could that he ſhould not be heard, and came ſo far that he came to the chamber of Danae, wherof the doore was open: in which chamber was a lampe burning. Iupiter all full of gladnes put his head into the chamber, to behold if the damoſels had bin with Danae: and when hée had beholden that there was none, but that Danae was alone, in her bed: he aduentured him to go vnto her, where he founde her ſléeping, and awooke her by kiſſing. &c.

Danae was ſo ſore abaſhed, when ſhe felt her ſelfe ſo kill, that ſhe crept within the bed. Iupiter drewe néerer, ſo that he diſcouered her face for to ſpeake to her, whereof ſhée being afrayd, opened her eyes, and when ſhée wiſt that it was Iupiter, and that he was alone by her bed ſide, ſhe made a right great ſhrych and cry. When Iupiter heard this cry, he was much troubled: neuertheleſſe he purpoſed to aduenture, turning her to him warde, and comforting her by his ſwéete ſpeaking, he declared to her in the ende that it muſt néedes be that ſhe muſt be his wife, promiſing to come and to fetch her in ſhort time. And ſo long he helde her in ſuch talke, that he vnclothed himſelfe, and in ſpeaking to her he ſprang into the bed, and laye by her ſide, notwithſtanding that ſhe with ſayd and wit-ſtoode it with all her might. Then ſayde the mayde, that ſhe was betrayed. And wéeping tenderly ſhe wende to haue fledde, and did her beſte to haue gone awaye. But Iupiter tooke good héede, and at the leape that ſhe ſuppoſed to make, caught and held her by the arme, and made her to lye downe agayne, and he clypt her and kiſte her againe. And ſo appeaſed her in ſuch facion that ſhe left her wéeping. And on the morning when he roſe vp from her, he left her with child with a yong ſonne. What ſhall I ſay more, Iupiter by this hardineſſe atchieued his purpoſe, and his will on fayre Danae, and made the peace for his offence. The night paſſed ouer, and the day came, that Iupiter muſt néedes ariſe and depart from her, and then by neceſſitie conſtrayning him to kéepe the honour of Danae, he aroſe, and tooke his clothing truſſed togither, and returned into his Chamber, where he went to bed, and ſlept ſo faſt and ſurely, that he awooke not till the houre and time to go to dinner.

At this houre Danae aſked where was the Meſſenger of king Iupiter, and ſaid that ſhe would eate with him, and that they ſhould bring him vp into the Tower ſecretlie. With the worde of Danae, two Damoſels went downe out of the Tower into the Chamber of Iupiter, and finding him aſléepe, awooke him, whereof he was amazed and aſhamed. For the Sunne was that tyme mounted hie. And then he aroſe, and arayed him haſtily, when he wiſt that Danae had ſent for him to come ſpeake with her. And ſo came to her, which began to waxe red, and to looſe her colour, & countenance, when ſhe ſaw him. And the reuerence made, they went and eate togither, and made great cheare: yet Danae was aſhamed, and was ſtrongly ſurpriſed for the caſe that was happened to her: and ſhe might not abſtaine to ſet her eyes on the beautie of Iupiter, which alſo fayled not on his ſide to beholde her by ſo ardent deſire, that the eyes of the one and the other pearced each other oftentymes. In this beholding they paſſed part of the tyme of the dinner. When they had taken their refection, Iupiter and Danae drewe them apart, and helde a long parliament of their worke. And it was concluded betwéene them, that Iupiter ſhould go into the Countrey, and that he ſhould returne thither with a certaine number of people, for to take away the faire Danae. And with this concluſion, Iupiter departed and returned into Crete, leauing Danae in the Tower, of whome I will ceaſe for this preſent, and returne to ſpeake how Tantalus the king of Frigie fought againſt the Troyans, and had battaile againſt them, which was the firſt battell that euer was in Troy.

CHAP. XXII. ¶How the King Tantalus of Frygy aſſayled by battaile the King Troos of Troy: and how Ilion and Ganimedes his ſonnes diſcomfited him in battayle.

WHen the King Troos had named his city Troy, and was mounted, and enhaunced in ſo hie renowme that the kings his neighbours as to his regarde were but in little reuerence, and leſſe glory: many thus looſing their honours, by his right great worſhippe, began to murmure againſt him in déede and in thought, and among all other, the King Tantalus of Frigie ſonne of the Archadien Iupiter king of Attique, tooke in right great deſpight the excellencie of Troos, and conſidered agaynſt him, and made a great aſſemblye of men of armes, and ſo departed out of his Realme, with intencion to deſtroye and ſpil the King Troos and his Cittie of Troye. This Tantalus had a ſonne in his companye named Pelops: and alſo left a ſonne at home named Thieſtes, for as much as he was young. And this Thieſtes had a ſonne ſince named Philiſtines the father of Menelaus that reygned in the time of the third deſtruction of Troy. For to returne to our purpoſe, then Tantalus behaued himſelfe in ſuch wiſe, that he conducted, and brought an hoſt vpon the territorie of Troy, and did ſmite downe and deſtroye all thing that was in theyr puiſſaunce, vnto playne deſtruction. Wherewith the crye and clamours of them that fledde was ſo great, that in ſhort tyme the King Troos was aduertiſed of it whereof hée was not affraid for he had the city wel garniſhed with people. Alſo he made readie to reſiſt his aduerſaryes, and that by ſuch diligence, that when he had heard the tydings in the morning, in foure houres after he iſſued out of Troy with xxx. thouſand fighting men, and drew vnto the place, where the Frygiens were entred.

This noble king Troos, had in his company two ſonnes, of whome the eldeſt was called Ilion to whome came downe from heauen the Palladium. And the yoonger was called Ganimedes. Theſe two ſonnes valiant and hardie came into the fielde, and required theyr father Troos, to departe his armie in two: and that he would graunt to them his vawarde, for to proue theyr might vppon theyr enimies. Troos conſidering that by ſeparatyon of his people they that were beaten or put backe might be ſuccoured when it ſhould come to ſtrokes, graunted the requeſt of his two ſonnes, and tooke vnto them twelue thouſand of fighting men. Ilion and Ganimedes thanked the King Troos their father, and tooke leaue of him, and wente foorth with their fighting men, in ſuch wiſe that they were a mile before the battaile of the King. And ſo the King Troos followed the battayle of his two ſonnes, Ilion and Ganimedes. And he had riders betwéene both appoynted for to reporte to the king Troos, when his ſonnes had found Tantalus theyr enemie: and alſo the two noble ſonnes had before them their diuerſe eſpyes, and watchers that were ſent out into diuerſe places, to ſée and to diſcouer the ſtate, the puiſſaunce and the order of theyr enemies. which founde them aboute the euening, and anon after, they returned vnto Ilion and Ganimedes, and bad them to make chéere, and that they had ſéene the enemies of Troye, in a certaine place that they named, and that there they had ſéene them lodged: and that they might well be numbred by eſtimation about xxx. thouſand fighting men.

Of theſe tidings had the Troyans great ioye, it was that time about midnight, and they were lodged in the ende of a valley: Ilion and Ganimedes anon the ſame houre aſſembled all the noble men of their companie, and tolde them what the eſpies had reported, and demanded of them counſell. All were of opinion that they ſhould ſuffer their Hoſte reſt yet a good houre, and after that they ſhould breake their faſt a little and lightly, to the ende to haue the better and longer their breath, and alſo to be the more couragious, and to cauſe them to be the better awaked, and this done, they ſhould departe for to go aſſaile their enemies. This opinion ſéemed good vnto the fiue ſonnes of the king. And they ſignified their intencion by the riders, vnto their father Troos. After this they withdrew them to take a little their reſt, and gaue charge to them that kept the watch, to awake them when they ſawe their time: and ſo they had but little reſted, when they were awaked and called, and that each man ſhould take his armes and follow on. The Troyans obeyed, and knewe well it was time to make readie ſpéedily. They were neuer ſo ioyous as they were when they knew they ſhould go to battaile. They eate and drunke temperately all with one good will. they garniſhed them with their armes: and ſhewed the one to the other, how they would fight in the battaile and confound their enemies, and menaced them of an euill conflict with them.

At this houre the Moone ſhone right cléere: by which ſhining and light, Ilion and Ganimedes put their people in aray in faire order. When they had tooke the ſhort refection, they beganne to march toward them, and put themſelues before all other: they came ſo nigh by Moone light, and by their guides, that they were heard of them that kept the watch of their enemies that they ſought: the which fled vnto the tents of king Tantalus, and awoke him and tolde him the the Troyans were come to aſſaile him: and that they had ſéene them in great number. But Tantalus beléeued not lightly his watch, and deferred his ariſing more then néede was. He had not long abiden, but the Troyans came vpon his hoſte, and laide loade vpon the Frigiens ſo vnmeaſurably, that the redounding of their ſtrokes, came and fell into the eares of Tantalus, which aroſe and ſprang on his féete terribly affraide. With this affraie were awaked all the Frigiens in generall: ſome by mortall woundes, and ſome by their cries, and ſome hurt gréeuouſly. In comming on thus, the Troyans damaged greatly their enemies: and the more, becauſe many of them were not furniſhed with their armes, which were ſmitten downe by the ſwords of the Troyans, and they were beaten downe maimed mortally, and wallowing in their bloud. This notwithſtanding though that the comming on of the Troyans was ſharpe, and that Ilion and Ganimedes approued themſelues ſharply in their worke, Tantalus and his ſonne Pelops gathered their people that withdrew them, about their tent, and there muſtred them together, and then when they founde them in number ſufficient for to enter into battaile, Tantalus cried, Frigie, Frigie: and after he did cauſe to march his people againſt the Troyens, that beate downe all before them in the place where they were arriued, and then beganne the noyſe to be great: For, on all ſides were cryes made, and at the ioyning the ſkirmiſh was horrible, that it ſéemed that the world ſhould ende in the ſame place.

Ganimedes and Pelops encountred together, and full of great courages they fought together, ſo ſore and hard, that a great while, by the wounds that were ſéene vppon their heads and vpon their armes, they were like the one to ſlea the other, and the one had ſlaine the other, had not Tantalus and Ilion haue béene by. For, Tantalus ſmote vpon Ganimedes, and Ilion ſmote Pelops: and the Troyans and Frigiens medled the one with the other. And there began the ſlaughter and murther: and there was fighting as champions, ſhewing each man his vertue and his proweſſe ſo ſtrongly, for as much as they ſaw the Moone go down and decline. And yet was not the day come, when they founde in the morning the place all couered with bloodie heades, armes, and of men dead: but the number of the Frigiens that there were put to the worſt, was much greater number, ten againſt one, then of them of Troy. What ſhall I ſay? as long as the moone gaue his light, there was no fault on the one ſide, nor on the other, each man did his part. The moone gat her into a darke cloud, and anon it was darke, & then the middle began to ceaſe fighting, & the retrait was cried. The Frigiens withdrew them at the cry of Tātalus. And the Troians at the cry of Ilion & Ganimedes. And there was none but would had gladly abiden the end of this ſkirmiſh and fight.

CHAP. XXIII. ¶Howe the king Troos chaſed in battell the king Tantalus: and how the king Saturne came by ſea ſailing to the port of Troos: & how the king Troos receiued him worſhipfully.

AFter this foreſaid battaile, when Tantalus was withdrawen, hee beganne to caſt his eyes vppon his people, which were all on a hill, for to wit how they were of number, and howe they had borne themſelues, and how much people he had loſt: and he went all about them with his ſon Pelops, and him ſéemed well that his power was made leſſe than hee had thought, whereof hee had in his heart a right great and ſharpe diſpleaſure, and viſiting his hoſt in this faſhion, the day began to ariſe: and in the dawning, two things appeared, and came to the knowledge of the people of Tantalus: one was the great loſſe of his people, and the other was, the battaile with King Troos, that they ſaw from farre diſcouered and approach. Certes, when Tantalus conſidered his euident damage, and ſawe that his enemies, becauſe of the ſuccours that came to them, were ſtronger then he was, he found not in the reſolution of his enterpriſe but diſpaire and ſhamefull end, and all diſcomforted, he called his ſonne and his principal friendes, and demaunded them what was beſt to do. They counſelled him that hee ſhould labour to ſaue himſelfe, and ſaide to him, if he abode, and attended the Troyans, that would be cauſe of his deſtruction, and of all them that were left of his people.

When Tantalus vnderſtood this, and knew that hee was deſperate, and nigh his ſhamefull ende and flight, and aboue that, that he might not extinguiſh and put downe the name of Troy: hee tooke himſelfe by the beard that was long, and impatiently ſaid, ſmiting himſelfe with his fiſt: O curſed enuie, thou didſt promiſe mee of late to put Troy vnder my féete, and haſt made me to riſe preſumptuouſly againſt her: Nowe ſée I well the contrarie, and that by mee Troy ſhall flouriſh: and that more is, by my cauſe her name ſhall growe and ſhall be enchaunſed, and that all kings ſhall tremble before her, in my ſight and beholding. O falſe traiterours fortune, accurſed be thou, that I euer beléeued on thée. Theſe words finiſhed, hee ſaide to his ſon and to other of his councell, that they ſhould cauſe his people to withdraw a little and a little. At laſt he commaunded that each man ſhould ſaue himſelfe, and then they put them all to flight. Ilion and Ganimedes tooke héede and ranne after, and chaſed them out of the territories of Troy, with great occiſon, and ſlaughter of the people of the Frigiens. And after that they had chaſed them, they ſaid that they had doone them ſhame inough, and left worke and returned, and came anon and met the king Troos their father, that followed them: which had great ioy, when hée ſaw that they had quit them ſo well vpon his enemies, by the good conduct of his two ſonnes.

The ioy then that Troos made Ilion and Ganimedes after the battaile, was great and of good loue. Troos brought them again vnto Troy with great worſhip. The Troyans men and women receiued them worſhipfully, & bleſſed the womb that had borne them, and the breaſts that gaue them ſucke. Theſe were two noble ſons of the King, of whom the names were borne into all the Marches there aboutes, with ſo great a bruit and noyſe, that not onelie the neighbours of Troos came to make alliaunce with King Troos and the Troyans: but there came alſo Kings of many far Countreys of the Eaſt, which could not magnifie inough the puiſſance of the king, and of the citie of Troy, &c.

In theſe dayes when Troy ſhewed the rayes of her puiſſance and nobleneſſe through the vniuerſall world, Saturne late king of Crete, ſayled by the ſeas with little companie, not as king and poſſeſſor of the realme, but as baniſhed and diſpurueyed of all land and countrey, ſo poore that he had no place to withdraw him to, nor wiſt not whither to go, but onely by deſarts, and by the depth of the ſea. When he had béene in this poynt a great while, thinking without end, how he might perſecute his ſon Iupiter, fortune brought him into the ſea of Helleſpont, and then beholding about him, he eſpyed and ſawe Troy, which was a Citie paſſing fayre and rich, and of marueylous greatneſſe. And then what for to take him a little reſt, as for to put away his melancholie, and for to reuittaile his ſhippe, and people, hee ſayled and rowed into the Citie, and landed at the port. When the Troyans had ſeene the ſhippe of Saturne, that was better, and more of value then all the ſhippes that they had euer ſéene, the maiſters of the ſhips of Troy, went haſtily vnto the King Troos, and ſaid: Sir, bee of good cheare, and make readie your houſe, I aſſure you that there is come right now vnto your port, the moſt rich ſhip that euer was ſéene on the ſea, and me ſéemeth this conſidered, that in ſo noble a ſhip, muſt be ſome noble or great earthly Lord that commeth vnto you, &c.

Anon as king Troos heard theſe tidings of the maiſter mariner, he deſired to ſée ſo fayre a ſhippe, and accompanied with his two ſonnes, went for to ſée at the port, and to feaſt them of the ſtraunge ſhippe. This king Troos was courteous and honourable. When he came vnto the port, he found that Saturne made readie his ſhippe, and diſpoſed him for to go vnto the citie. And ſéeing the ſhip, he maruailed much: for the vtenſils that were within were richly made: furthermore, Saturne & his companions were armed, and had no mariners. He beheld their behauiour at his comming, and knew that they were men of warre right well in point: ſo he thought in himſelfe at the beginning for to arme himſelfe, and to ſend for the Troyans: But afterward, when hee had ſéene their little number, and that no ſhip followed nor came after theſe ſtrangers from the coaſt, he changed his purpoſe, viewed and approched vnto the ſhip, and called Saturne that moſt beſt was arayed aboue the other, and aſked him what he ſought, both he and his fellows, and from what nation they were? and whence they came from? And Saturne anſwered to him and ſaide. Sir, albeit I know not at what port I am arriued: for as much as my heart giueth me that ye be courteous of your nature, I will not hide nor couer any thing touching your requeſt, I was late king of Crete, named Saturne: now I am but Saturne, for my ſonne hath put me out ſorrowfully, ſo that of all the riches of all my people, and all my goods temporall, there is nothing left me but this onely ſhip that ye may ſée. Wherefore I pray you, and require, that it pleaſe you to direct mee to ſome Lord of this countrey, to the end that I may require licence and leaue to enter into his lordſhip, and to take that, that ſhall be neceſſarie competently to the life of me and of my companie.

When king Troos heard the caſe of Saturne compriſed in briefe words, he ſaide to him by compaſſion. King Saturne, yee be welcome into the houſe of Troos: in troth I haue great gréefe in my ſelfe of your firſt anoyance, for your glorious renowme, and for the goodneſſe that is in you, as often times I haue heard it recounted. But with this anoyance two things gladde and ioye my heart, the one procéeding of the accompliſhment of deſire, for I haue deſired manye dayes for to ſée you, and this deſire is now accompliſhed in me: and the other procéedeth of hope, and in this part I ſaye to you, that I king of this countrey haue intention to comfort and to councell you to my power, and alſo to giue you ſo good ayde, that ye ſhall correcte your ſonne, and ſhall puniſhe his perſonne, in ſuche wiſe as it ſhall appertayne for his offence. Saturne began to ſighe, and to take a lyttle comforte of the greate proffer and good chéere that the King Troos made to him, and he thanked him of ſo hie and ample offers, and at the coming out of his ſhippe he b • 〈◊〉 him in his armes, and kiſt his hande. What ſhall I ſaye? the King Troos brought him into his Pallace with all his men, and feaſted them as it appertayned, for the loue of Saturne. In likewiſe, the people being aduertiſed of Saturne, that it was he that found the maner of labouring of the earth, of melting of metals, and of ſayling, and rowing by Sea, made ſo greate and plentifull feaſt at his comming, that they coulde no more doo. At that time, during this feaſting, when Saturne felt him in the grace of the Troyans, on a daye he called Troos and his two ſonnes, and addreſſed his words to them ſaying: Lordes of Troye, ye haue doone ſo much for me, that I maye neuer deſerue it: but as I haue ſayde to you, my ſonne is enhaunſed and lift vp aboue me, and hath taken from me my Realme. I intreate you, as much as I may, that ye will councell me what thing is moſt conuenient for me to doo. And how I ſhall ſuffer and beare the iniury doon to me. &c.

My brother (aunſwered the King Troos) this is againſt nature for a ſonne himſelfe to rebell againſt his Father: the ſinne and crime is foule and worthy of reprehenſion, for euery ſonne is bounden by all lawes to ſerue, worſhip, dread and obey his Father. And it is not reaſon that any man ſhould approoue or hold with a ſonne diſobeyſant. Your ſonne is in this condition curſed and right euill: and I am of the opinion yt ye ſhal not acquite you well, vnleſſe you do to your power to maiſter and ouercome his euill maners. And to the end ye ſhall not excuſe your euident harmes and loſſes, when ye will, I will deliuer you my ſonne Ganimedes, accompanied with twentie thouſand Troyans, that ſhall ſuccour you, vnto the death. Or they ſhall ſette you agayne in your royall tribunall. Saturne was all recomforted, when he knewe the loue that the King Troos ſhewed to him: and after many thankes, concluded, that he would returne into Crete with Ganimedes, and would begin againe the pitious warre of him and of his ſonne. And following this concluſion (from thenceforth on) he did cauſe 〈◊〉 •••• int the ſhipping of Troye, and all things apperteyning, and gathered togither men of armes with great puiſſance, by the introduction of Ganimedes. And when all the aſſembly had muſtred and were gathered togither, he tooke leaue of the king Troos and of Ilion, and went to the ſea, and ſhipped all his manie, and knowing the ſituations of the countreys by the ſeas, he directed his hoſte into the Sea Egee, where as was Egeus ſonne of Titan the greate pyrate, which durſt not haue to doo with them in no wiſe: and from this ſea of Egee, he trauailed ſo much by diuerſe iourneys, that he came and arriued at the firſt porte and hauen of Crete.

CHAP. XXIIII. ¶How Saturne, by the ayde of Ganimedes, and of the Troyans, returned into Crete, to fight againſt Iupiter, where he was ouercome and vanquiſhed, and Ganimedes taken.

AT that houre when Saturne arriued in Crete, the ſunne was turned into the weſt, and on the heauen begā to appeare the ſtars. Saturne knewe the port, and tooke land hoping to enter ye country ſecretly, and went a little way, and there lodged his people in a place cōueniēt & made thē reſt, & eate and drinke by the ſpace of foure houres, and then hée awooke the hoſt, and made the Troians arme them, and enter into the Realme. But they were not farre gone, but anon after the ſunne ryſing, and approaching a ſtraight paſſage, the eſpies and ſcowrers came vnto Saturne, and Ganimedes haſtily, and tolde them that they had ſéene the King Iupiter right ſtrongly accompanied, which kept the paſſage. Vpon this place, it is to wit, that when Iupiter was departed from Danae, and from the Tower of Dardan, and was come into Crete, deſiring to accompliſh his promiſe to Danae, hee did cauſe to aſſemble his men of warre, concluding in himſelfe, that faithfully he would go fetch the fayre Danae, and bring her into his Countrey by force of armes. What ſhall I ſay more? His armie was all readie, and came the ſame night where on the morrow he hoped to haue departed, but as hée was in his bed that night in his Citie of Parthenie, tidings came to him, of the arryuing of the Troyans. Wherefore he was conſtrained by force to change his purpoſe: of which he was right ſorie and maruailous paſſing heauie. This notwithſtanding, ſuddenly as theſe tydings were freſhly brought vnto him, he aroſe and tooke his men of armes that he had aſſembled, and haſtily brought them vnto the ſtraight whereof aboue is written, and there abode his enemies, as wiſe & well aduiſed. And it is not to be forgotten, that in this armie among his men, was the king of Moloſſe, which had late found the induſtrie and craft to tame and breake horſes, for to be ridden, and to ride them. And there was come he and his men, to ſerue the king Iupiter for his good renowme, accompanied with an hundred men that ran as the winde. And for this cauſe they were called Centaures: and theſe Centaures were ſo terrible, and cruell, that they doubted not the puiſſance of King, nor of none other whatſoeuer they were.

For then to returne to the matter alreadie begun: when Saturne knewe that the paſſage was kept, and that Iupiter was then aduertiſed of his cōming, he cauſed his hoſt to ſtay, and ſayde vnto them: My children, it behooueth that this morning, ye ſo do in Crete your deuoir, not onely in muſtring and ſhewing your courages, but aboue all, that ye bee redoubted and dread like the thunder, Aſſure year ſelues of your quarrell, Iupiter mine enemie is heere, where he abydeth our comming to the battaile ordained: if we will come to the ende of our enterpriſe, it is neceſſarie that we draw thither. Let me heare what ye will ſay. Then thus anſwered Ganimedes: we be come into Crete, for to correct your ſonne, and to ſet you againe in your throne. We will do that we may do by our power, and fight fréely without doubting or feare. And vnto the ende that no reproch be layde vnto vs, I will ſende and ſummon your ſonne, firſt or any ſwoorde be drawne or ſtroke ſmitten, to the ende that he yéelde him vnto your obeyſaunce: and that he come and amende his miſdéedes. And then Ganimedes did call forth his Troians by conſent of Saturne, and ſet them in order of battaile: and when he had ſo done, he ſent one of his auncient knights, a noble man vnto Iupiter, and gaue him charge to make the ſummons, ſuch as is ſayde before. The Troyan departed from the hoſt, at the commaundement of Ganimedes, and did ſo much that hee was preſented before Iupiter, and ſaid to him, Iupiter, thou oughteſt to know that euery ſonne oweth obeyſance vnto his father: thou doſt contrarie to theſe things, and ſheweſt that thou art not ſon of a king, but of perdition, for thou deſpiſeſt thy father: In ſtead of reuerence, thou haſt him in hate: and thou makeſt him warre where thou ſhouldeſt hold him in loue: and thou putteſt him to great diſhonor thy ſelfe, where thou art hold and bounden to do him worſhip. O Iupiter, who ſhall giue thée abſolution of thy life, dwelling in venome? Who ſhall excuſe thy ſinne? Thou art enemie of thy father. The caſe is ſo grieuous, that there is no mercie ne excuſation, vnleſſe it procéede from the naturall clementie of thy father. Beholde Iupiter, beholde the ende of thine inſurrection. All lawe poſitiue, and all lawe written, condemne thée vnto death, and curſe and anathematiſe thée. It is great pittie, thou art a goodly yong man. Know that thy reigne may not long dure: and that thou ſhalt more ſharply be puniſhed then thou wéeneſt peraduenture at this this time. For Ganimedes one of the ſonnes of Troy is hereby in the helpe of Saturne thy father, with twenty thouſand ſighting men, which ſummoneth thée by me, that thou returne into the mercie of thy father, and yéeld him his realme, all excuſes ſet apart.

Meſſenger (aunſwered Iupiter) if I were ſuch one as ye ſay, with iuſt reaſon ye and other might giue ſentence and condemnation vpon mee: I were then guiltie for both parties: And I trow if Ganimedes (of whome ye haue ſpoken) had heard my my excuſe, hée would not bee mine enemie. I aunſwere you, that I loue my father Saturne, in as much as hee is my father. But I ſay to you on the other part, that he hath oft tymes ſought to put me to death, hée ſhewing himſelfe my mortall aduerſarie and not father. (For euery father naturally loueth his ſonne) and for that regarde I will kéepe me from him, as from mine enemie: And will well that the Troyans knowe, that if they come and aſſayle mee, I will defende mee with all my puiſſance, &c.

With this aunſwere, returned the ſaide Troian vnto Saturne, and Ganimedes, and ſayd vnto them what he had found. Saturne and Ganimedes ſwore then the death of Iupiter, and approched ſo nigh the ſtrait, that they came within a bow ſhot, the one nigh vnto the other: and from as farre as they ſawe each one nigh vnto the other, they made great cryes and ſhowtes. Iupiter had ſet his puiſſaunce in two wings, whereof hee was chiefe in the formoſt, and Ixion, and his Centaures were gouernours of the ſecond. When Iupiter had ſéene that there was no way but for to ſkirmiſh, he ſaid he would begin the battaile: and after that he had encouraged his people, he pricked his horſe foorth, and then happened and befell a maruaylous thing, For from the high clouds aboue, came downe an Eagle vpon his head, and after beganne to flie about him, making him ioy and théere, and departed not nor left him during the battaile.

By the flying of this Eagle, Iupiter and the people tooke in them an hope of good ſucceſſe. And Saturne and the Troians fell in a feare and doubt that could not come out of their conceits. What ſhall I ſay more? when Iupiter ſawe the dooing of the Eagle, he had a great ioy in his heart, and as a man well aſſured in his bodie, he entred among the Archers of the Troyans, that ſhot thicke at him, and running as a tempeſt, paſſed by their arrowes, and tarried not for reſiſtance of ſhot, till he came among the men of armes, of the Troyans.

The Troyans had neuer ſéene man on horſe backe before, and when they ſaw Iupiter, they had thought it had béene halfe a man and halfe a horſe: and there were ſome that fled at his comming, and ſome abode and fought valliantly, againſt him: thus began the battaile of that day. They of Crete followed Iupiter with a great noyſe of Tabors, and clarions, and began to ſkirmiſh with the Troyans: they did their beſt on both ſides, Iupiter bare to the ground many Troyans, and well employed his horſe on which he rode. Ganimedes and Saturne, on the other ſide failed not. Alway Iupiter proued himſelfe in armes the moſt expert aboue all other. And abandoned his body and life vnto the fight of his enemies, and there was no man that durſt haue to do with him or abide him, but he was ſlain and put vnderfoote, by the cutting and ſmiting of his ſword.

Cruell and fierce was this battaile. The Troyans were without feare, and did great proweſſes, and manly by the the leading of Saturne, and of Ganimedes. Saturne met Iupiter often times, as he that ſought great ſtrokes: but Iupiter that knew him well, would neuer abide him, ſaying: that he would neuer ſet hand on his perſon, but eſchewed and fled his death vnto his power. This notwithſtanding hee ſought the death of his helpers, and made no ſparing, of their harneſſe, ne armor of leather, of their heades, ne of their liues, of yong, nor of old, of valiant, nor of hardy, it was to him all one: he yéelded neither to one ſide, nor to other, for ſtroke of ſword, of mace, ne of guiſarme. Yet he had oft remembrance of the faire Danae: and deſiring to be quit of his enemies, for to go about her deliuerance, like as he had promiſed vnto her, he ſmote off heads and arms. Vnto him was nothing impoſſible. At euery ſtroke he dyed his ſword with new blood, and the Eagle did flée alway about him, now low, now hie. Wherfore ye Troians had great deſpite in thēſelues.

Ganimedes the noble Troyan was of little ſtature. Yet notwithſtanding, he was of more greater courage then any other, vigorouſlie he fought agaynſt them of Crete, as hee that mynded nothing but to get worſhippe and honour. What ſhall I ſay? they fought thus togither in this poynt, from the morning till the euening, without that any of both parties obtayned any winning or loſſe, and then Saturne withdrew his people on the one ſide, and Iupiter returned with the King Ixion and the Centaures, and ſtill followed him alwayes the Eagle, and ſate vppon his Tent, which was made of boughes, and greene ruſhes. For at that time Tents and Pauillions of cloath were not had nor vſed, howbéeit, the making of linnen cloath, and of cloath of Golde, and Silke was founde afore this tyme. In this night they of Troy, and they of Crete, made great cheare in theyr Tentes and lodgings: and diſpoſed them to beginne againe on the morrowe the labour of armes, hoping all to haue the better and victorie. The hurt men were dreſſed, and the harneſſe broken was made again and amended: they ſpake largely of the proweſſes of one and other, but principally they helde theyr ſpeaches of the Eagle, and ſpake ſo much of him, that Iupiter that ſame night tooke a péece of Crimſon Satten, containing a yard and a halfe ſquare, and made therein the reſemblaunce of an Eagle of Golde, and ſet it on a Speare, and made a banner, ſaying, that he would beare that banner in all battailes euer after. And ſaid further that he vnderſtood by the Eagle, that it was a token to him, that he ſhould abide victorious of his enemies. And that he ſhould be ſoueraigne king of Crete, like as the Eagle is king of all foules.

CHAP. XXV. ¶How Iupiter diſcomfited againe king Saturne in battaile: and how Saturne was put to flight by the ſea.

SVch were the ſpeaches of King Iupiter in this night, the which hee paſſed the moſt ioyouſly that he could: and he viſited the hurt men, and comforted them, and concluded with Ixion, that the day following the Centaures ſhoulde haue the battaile, and they that had foughten the day before ſhould reſt them. After this he ſlept on the gréene, and reſted him vntil the time that the Centaures put them in aray, and went to horſebacke. And ſo did Iupiter, for he had leuer haue died, then to haue béene idle. At this time Saturne ſlept not, nor was there no more ſlackneſſe found in him and Ganimedes, then was in Iupiter, for they were ſure that they ſhould be met withall, and aſſailed of their enemies againe. They doubted and arayed them the beſt wiſe they could, and about the Sunne riſing they trained and went vnto the hoſt of Iupiter, encouraging each other, to ſmite and fight, and aſſaile their mortall enemies hardily, for to auenge the blood of their fellowes, that were dead in the battaile the day before.

For to make ſhort: then the Troians were ſore inflamed with appetite of vengeance, and were the firſt in the field, wherefore they had great ioy in their harts, & made a right great cry. But this ioy was anon abated vnto them: for ſuddenly as Iupiter & the Centaures heard their cry, they took the baner with the Eagle of gold, their ſpears and their ſhields, and with a ioyous ſound of trumpets clarions and tabours, pricked forth their horſes which ran ſwiftly through the aire, and running as they that held not of heauen ne of earth, vpon theyr enemies they beganne to fight. Certes, when the Troyans ſawe the Centaures mounted on horſebacke, running as the winde, they were ſo amaſed and affraide, that they had wéened, neuer to haue ſéene light day. Neuertheleſſe they tooke courage and abode them, and the Centaures fought ſo mightily among them, that eche one of them bare to the earth a Troyan with the point of his ſpeare. And among other, Ganimedes was borne downe to the earth amōg them: and ſome were hurt and ſome reléeued after hurting, and ſome without hurte. When Ganimedes felt himſelfe among the horſe-féete, he was in his heart terrible angry, and ſaid that he would be ſhortly auenged. Anon he aroſe ſodainly and tooke his ſwoord, and ſéeing the Centaure that had ſmitten him down, doing meruailous feats of arms among a great many of his folke, that mightily withſtood his vnmeaſurable ſtrokes, he gaue vnto him ſo great a ſtroke, as he was leaning on the right ſide to haue ſmitten a Troyan, that he gaue him a great wound, by which he was ſo aſtonyed that he droue him down of his horſe, and he himſelfe leapt vp into the ſaddle. This Centaure was named Eſon, and was yong, and was afterward father of Iaſon that conquered the golden fléece. When he had receyued the ſtroke that Ganimedes had giuen him, he made a cry ſo great, that tenne Centaures came running, and defended him from the preaſe. And caſting downe one another, they beate the Troyans, and caſt them downe and ſparkeled their bloud that all the place was dyed red: and as they found Eſon and Ganimedes the one nighe the other, and beholding Ganimedes that he practiſed to manage and gouerne his horſe: and ſéeing theyr felow put down from his horſe, they were paſſingly ſurpriſed with great yre, and by mortall hate, they purſued Ganimedes vnto death. The Troyans approched: they being there fought manly againſt ye Centaures. And the Centaures caſting and ſmyting on Ganimedes: the Troyans did their vtmoſt to defend him, and put themſelues in ieopardy of death for him. For many of them were ſlaine and ſore hurt.

Theſe Centaures were ſtrong, huge, great and lothly: the Troyans had more courage then ſtrength of body. In this place Ganimedes ſhewed enough of proweſſe, and of valure and well defended him a while: but in the end Fortune was to him aduerſe, in ſuch wiſe, that after he had ſuffered many aſſaultes: and that he had ſéene put and caſt to grounde, mo then a thouſand Troyans, he behelde on the otherſide, and ſaw Saturne retyre in playne diſcomfiture. After he ſaw that his Troyans let them to be driuen backe, and to be put to death, without turning or fighting againe, and that al brake, and turned their backe: alſo he ſawe them that were about him, gaue it vp and fled: and then knowing in this diſcomfiture that he had no remedy nor recouerance, and that he alone might not beare nor abide the battaile, he put himſelfe to flight, and fled after the other, and ſuſteyned as he might, the purſuit that the Centaurs made vpon his men, and in the ende he guyded them vnto the porte where the ſhipping was.

Saturne then all deſpaired entred into his ſhip, with great loſſe of Troyans, and Ganimedes entred into an other, right angry and ſo diſpleaſant that I cannot rehearſe. At the entry of the ſhippes, one partye of the Troyans that were lefte were periſhed in the ſea, another party periſhed by the ſword, and the other tooke ſhipping. Iupiter and Ixion thanked their goddes greatly of this victorye, and concluded togither, that they woulde yet purſue their enemies by the ſea, for as much as they were yet great in number. And Ixion ſayde, that it was expedient to bring them to vtter deſtruction for as much as they had fortune with them, and to the ende that they ſhoulde neuer rather force more againſt them Iupiter yéelded this purſuit, greatlye gree • ed, for to him ſéemed that he had taryed too long, and yet ſhoulde tary more if he entred into the ſea, that he might not be with Danae, at the day that he had promiſed her. This notwithſtanding, hoping alway to excuſe him vnto her, he made him readie haſtely to go to the purſuit of his enemies, and ſent for his mariners, and after went into a temple that was thereby dedicated vnto the god Mars.

CHAP. XXVI. ¶How Iupiter, after he had ſacrificed the Egle, purſued the Troyans: and of the ſtrong battaile that he had againſt Ganimedes.

IVpiter was not ſo ſoone in the Temple, but the Egle entered alſo, an ſet him on the altar. When Iupiter ſawe that, after manie thoughts he tooke the Egle, and made Sacrifice: and anon after came tydings that his mariners were ready. So he went out of the temple, and recommended him vnto Mars, and came to his mariners that hadde made all things readie, and went to ſea accompanyed with the Centaures, and two thouſand of his men of Crete, and ſayled after his enimies, as he deſired: For the Troyans fled apace, and made all the ſayle they could. In theſe two dayes Iupiter oftentimes wiſhed him with his fayre Danae, and thought that his long tarying would be irkſome vnto her.

When yt the two days were paſt, the day folowing at thrée of the clock, they of Crete and they of Troye began to méete togither vpon the ſea. They of Troye were in great ſorrow and they of Crete in great ioye. At this time Saturne was not with the Troyans, as he that durſt not returne with them for his ſhame that was befallen, and was all diſcomfit in himſelfe and in diſpayre: and paſſed by the waues of the ſea, drawing into the Eaſt. When Ganimedes had eſpyed the ſhippes of Crete from far, he ſuppoſed firſt, that it had bin Saturne, and taryed a while at ancre, but in proceſſe of time, when Ganimedes ſawe the ſhippes coming by great force néere, and ſawe the banner of the king Iupiter appeare, by which he vnderſtood verily that it was Iupiter and his enimies, and not Saturne that he abode for.

Then was Ganimedes ſore troubled, and called his companies, and ſhewed them the banner with the golden Egle, and aſked them what was beſt to doo? They aunſwered to him and ſayd: that Saturne had abandoned them and giuen ouer, and that they ought not to abide and tarry, but onelye euery man to ſaue himſelfe. Ganimedes would fayne haue abidden the battayle, for to proue if they were as fortunate, and happye on the ſea as they were on land: but when he knewe the minde of the Troyans, that deſired nothing but reſt, he made to weigh vp ancres, and ſayle foorth, fléeing and withdrawing from them of Crete, as much as in them was poſſible. Iupiter and his Centaures then ſéeing the Troyans lying at ancre, began to furniſh and fit them with theyr harneſſe: and when they ſawe theyr enimies take vp theyr ancres, they began to ſhoute and folowe. The purſuit was ſtrong, and dure • thrée dayes and thrée nightes: and in the morning of the fourth daye Ganimedes and his company eſpying land (and that was Troye that they ſawe) they drewe to the porte with great ioy, but that ſoone was entremedled with ſorrow. For when they had taken land, they behelde and ſawe that theyr enemies followed them, and came to the porte all prouided and readie to battaile. This ſhame and loſſe ſmote vnto the heart of Ganimedes, in ſuch facion, that he cryed and ſayde in this wiſe vnto his men.

My brethren, and my fellowes, fortune hath doon to vs a grace by which we be brought and conducted hither, but this grace is to vs little proffit as we may plainly conceyue. Lo heare is the King Iupiter, which hath doone to vs great ſhame, for to chaſe vs into our owne territorye: and what ſhame will it be to him that will now flie? and more ouer, who is he that nowe will not holde the brydle by the téeth? now behoueth not to flie, but nowe it behoueth for to fight. It is méete and neceſſarie for to reuenge his loſſes and his bloud, and for to recouer worſhip. We be in our owne countrey, if we reuenge vs not, we ſhall come into perpetuall diſhonour. Of ſuccour we cannot faile: for now the Troyans be vpon the walles, and go vppon the high Edifices of the Citie, that beholde our landing. And ſome there be that make them readie to welcome vs. And who that now is not well couragious, neuer fare he well: let euery man enforce the vertue of his ſtrength. For as for me, for to be hewen in péeces, I will no more flee: I pray you that ye take courage and abide with me.

Two things happened whiles he ſpake and vttered theſe ſpéeches vnto his people, the Troyans were aduertiſed of the coming of their men, and of the following and landing of their aduerſaries, and they diſpoſed them to reſiſt and withſtand them. And Iupiter and his men approched the port, and with that Ganimedes left warning his fellowes, and ran vnto the port, holding in his hand a ſtrong ſpeare, his companie tooke example by his right high courage, and followed him. Then began both the parties to make their cries, that went vp into the aire. Iupiter and his Centaures inforced them to take land. Ganimedes and the Troyans inforced them to defend and to put them from the land. Great and ſore ſtrokes were giuen: many of them were periſhed in the ſea. And many there were that their bloud was ſhed on the land. But Iupiter that had no fellow in the place, gat land in a little ſpace, and ſuſtained the fierceneſſe of the ſkirmiſh, by helpe of ſome of the Centaures, ſo that he made Ganimedes to retire backe to his fellowes, and ſo exployted by the hewing of his ſharpe ſword, that he made all his men to take land, and had lightly put Ganimedes and his men to the foyle, if out of Troy had not come the king Troos and Ilion, with a great multitude of people, that ranne vnto the reſkewe and helpe of the hardie and valiant Ganimedes, who for to ſaue his men, offered and put his bodie to incredible trauell and labour.

The King Troos and Ilion, then made a ſallie out of Troy, in right fayre order, and expoſed them to beare a part in the trauaile of theyr blood. Iupiter with Ixion and the Centaures, left then them that he eſtéemed vanquiſhed and ouercome, and directed their forces againſt king Troos and Ilion, and them that followed them, notwithſtanding, that they had béene féebled by the ayre, and béeing on the ſea, which did them little good. The Centaures were great and huge, and ſtrong as oliphants, hardy as lions, and eager as Tigers. At this time the weather was fayre and cleare, the ſunne ſhone faire, when they began to ſkirmiſh: it was a fayre thing to ſée the bickerings, and a great noyſe to heare the cries: there was many a ſpeare broken, and many an arrow ſhot, and many a ſtaffe and guiſarme ſhiuered, helms inogh fruſhed, and many ſkins of Lions, Beares, & Horſes, ſmitten and torne in péeces. Troos and Ilion were right aſper and fierce in the reſkew of Ganimedes. Iupiter and Ixion, were valiant and deſirous to get honour, and ſo fought and layde on the Troyans, on the right ſide, and on the left ſide, that before them was no reſiſtance, nor order holden, &c.

The Banner of the Eagle of Golde was alway in the moſt ſtrength of the battaile. The King Troos that had neuer ſéene Banner vſed in battaile, was greatlie amaruayled what it ſhould ſignifie, and oft tymes did what hée could to fight agaynſt them that helde it, and woulde faine haue put it downe, and ſmitten it into péeces, but alway he found there ſo great ſtrokes, and ſo wel laid on, that hée was faine to go as farre backe as he came nigh. Hee was valiaunt of his bodie, and well knewe the Arte of warre. Iupiter approoued him many times and often, and fought with him in many places, and noted him in his minde for a notable man: there was in him no feare ne dreade, nor alſo in his ſonnes Ilion, and Ganimedes: they yéelded vnto armes their deuoirs. They did worſhipfully deale with their bodies, vnto their puiſſance without ende. They wrought and fought with their enemies, making their ſwords red in the bloud of the Cretians. They followed with great force, in ſuch wiſe, that they fought all that day, otherwile afore, and ſometime behinde. And it was ſo in the ende, that when the ſunne began to go downe, Ganimedes thinking on his great loſſe, and deſiring to recouer his worſhip, tooke a terrible and mighty axe, and enflamed with right noble courage, fought about the baner of the Eagle of gold, where was the moſt ſtrength, and ſmote downe on the one ſide and other, ſo vnmeaſuraſurably, that his axe changed colour, and he cried with an high voyce, Troy, Troy.

Iupiter had alway an eye on the banner. When he heard the crie of Ganimedes, and ſaw his behauiour, he knew him, whereof he had great ioy, for he ſought no man but him: he gaue ouer the place where he was in, and ioyouſly adreſſed him vnto him and ſaide. O valiant Troyan, thou haſt ſhewed thy proweſſe all the day, and now thou manifeſteſt and ſheweſt thy ſelfe by great feats of armes, and of great ſhouts. Thou art onely he that I ſéeke among the valiants of Troy: not onely that I preſume to be more valiant in armes then thou, but for as much as thou art he that haſt aſſailed Crete, and that I haue purſued thee hither. Thou haſt aſſailed and fought with me, army againſt armie, and nowe let vs fight body againſt body, and he take it that may get it.

Ganimedes with this word lifted vp his axe, and caſting his eyes on Iupiter, and thinking of that he had heard, made him this anſwere: Happie and fortunate king of Crete I know nowe that thou art worthy to haue grace of fortune, and that thou art more wiſe then ſtrong. Thou ſéeſt that fortune is with thée, neuertheleſſe now thou enhaunſeſt not thy ſelfe aboue me, I allow and prayſe thée: in as much as thou doſt worſhip and honour to thine enemie, and diſpraiſeſt him not, but imagineſt that hee hath courage at his heart, know thou that thou doſt thy ſelfe honour and worſhip. For, to diſprayſe and blame another man, no man ought to aduance himſelfe. I would that it pleaſed the gods, that thy father Saturn which is wandering on the ſea, were now here, for it is mine intent that by his helpe we would haue reaſon of thée, and I will come thereto, if it be for me poſſible, for I ſhould be ſatiſfied for all my hurts and loſſes, if I might conquer and ouercome thée. And without mo words, Ganimedes let flie his axe, and ſmote on Iupiter. Iupiter couered him with his ſhield, which was ſmitten in two peeces by the cutting of the axe, and then Iupiter beſtirred himſelfe, who all that day had abſtained and ſpared from fight and the feats of armes: and commanded his folke that they ſhould let him alone with Ganimedes, for as much as he was alone. And nowe he defended himſelfe againſt the axe of Ganimedes, and be laboured him with his ſword, the moſt beſt wiſe that to him was poſſible.

Thus began the battaile of the two champions of Crede, and of Troy. They were both right expert, to do the feats of armes: their cries were high and fierce: they ſmote each other fiercely & eagerly: the fire ſprang out of their helmes, by the might of their ſtrokes. But when fortune was on the part of Iupiter, what might Ganimedes do? His ſtrokes were great, and hee gaue vnto Ganimedes many wounds: and indéede tooke away his axe, by the meane of a great wound that he had in the right arme, & might haue put him to death, if he would. But for to make ſhort proceſſe: when he had taken his weapon from him, he had pitie on him, and ſaued his life, and cauſed him to be kept by foure Centaure •• Anon after it began to waxe dark, for the night tooke frō the day his light, wherefore it behoued them to take their reſt, and leaue off fighting. And ſo the Troyans withdrew them into theyr Citie, and they of Crete vnto the port of the ſea.

CHAP. XXVII. ¶How the King Troos, and Ilion his ſon, made great ſorrow for Ganimedes for they wiſt not where he was becom, And how Iupiter went to the ſea, for to go to Argos

WHen Troos and Ilion were withdrawen, they abode at the gate vnto the time that all the Troyans were come againe into the Citie, as they that knew not where Ganimedes was become, whome they ſore deſired to haue found. All they that were in the battaile of the Troyans, were entred, and there was no man that coulde tell the King Troos, where his ſonne Ganimedes was: or whether he was aliue or dead. And when hée ſawe, that he hadde no more men left in the fielde, he returned into his Pallace ſorrowing and greatlye vexed: and ſent for them that were come againe from Crete, and enquired of them of all the tydings, and what they hadde doone with his ſonne. As touching his ſonne they aunſwered: that in the euening hée was in the preaſe among his enemyes, but they wiſt not what was become of him. And as touching the tydings of Crete, they tolde him, how they had ſpedde in theyr Iourney againſt them: and how the Eagle appeared vnto Iupiter: and how they were ouercome by the ſtrength of the centaures. And how they wiſt not where Saturne was become.

Theſe tydings gaue vnto the king Troos ſorrowe vppon ſorrowe, and to Ilion alſo. And the teares fell downe from theyr eyes: and in ſpeciall Ilion wept ſore, bewayling his brother in this manner: Alas my brother, alas Ganimedes, where is become the glorie of Troye, by the vnfortunate and vnhappy Saturne, which hath failed there in thy néede. At the leaſt if thou hadſt come againe, we togither would haue doon our beſt to haue bin auēged of this loſſe. We would haue aſſayed our bodies, by fraternall loue, for to haue recouered thine honour. How is it, art thou periſhed by venturing? what hard gréefe and ſorrowe is thée befallen? for to ſay all thy miſaduenture and miſhap is too preiudicial vnto the houſe of Troy. Ilion faire ſonne, anſwered Troos, for one aduerſitie it behoueth not to be abaſhed in the warre, in any wiſe, but to haue firme courage. War giueth this day victory to one, and on the morne, taketh it away, and giueth it to another, and ſo putteth each out. A vertuous and a manly mā vnto his death, ought not to be afraide. If Ganimedes he dead in the battaile, or if he be taken, what remedy? it is then expedient, eyther to auenge his death or to ſuccour him: but our enemyes be in little number, we will to morrow fight with them againe, and let the gods doo their willes of vs. And if I faile herein, I ſhall be quite diſcouraged.

Ilion, and the nobles of Troy, comforted them with theſe words of king Troos, and confirmed his reſolution for to go on the morne, to aſſayle their enemies. Whileſt theſe things were in parle in the citie, Iupiter was in the fielde, and made great chéere, with Ixion, and the Centaures: and being ſet at ſupper vpon the ground, al about a great ſtone, Iupiter ſent for to fetch Ganimedes, and made him to ſup with them. Ganimedes was ſore mooued, and had in his heart great trouble: yet he tooke a ſhort refection with them, for he felt right great ache and ſmarte in his woundes. And there Iupiter commā ned with him, ſaying, that he was the valianteſt man that euer was ſéene among the moſt valianteſt of Troy: and for as much as he was in his mercye, and that it was hée, that late with his father, deſcended into Crete, where he had gladly planted his name in worſhippe, if fortune woulde haue ſuffered him: therefore (ſayd he) I will no more warre before Troye: but I will enter agayne to morne into the Sea, and will go and putte in execucion, a thing that lyeth me nowe ſore at hearte: And will well that ye knowe, that I haue intencion to go vnto the Realme of Argos, vnto the Tower of Dardan, for to deliuer, according to my promiſe, out of the ſame Tower the fayre Danae, whome the King Acriſius holdeth faſt ſhut in, without any reaſon. This concluſion pleaſed king Ixion, and the Centaures, for as much as they had heard ſpeake of the Tower of Dardain: and they thought well that the Argiens might not hold againſt their ſtrength. When that they had eaten, they entred into their ſhips, and thought among other things, on the wounds of them that were hurt, and alſo of Ganimedes. And after they laide them downe on the ſtraw to ſléepe, and about two houres before day they weighed anchor, and departed ſo ſecretly, that the Troyans had no knowledge thereof. And on the morrow betimes, when king Troos and Ilion iſſued out of Troy to battaile, they ranged in good order, and found no man to haue to do withall, nor they could not ſée nor perceiue their enemies on no coaſt of the ſea, for they had ſo farre ſailed from the port, that by that time they were out of ſight. Thus they had great ſorrow maruailouſly, and came vnto the place where the battaile had béene, and buried the dead men. But nowe I will leaue ſpeaking of them, and of Iupiter, and will turne vnto the Hiſtory of Danae.

CHAP. XXVIII. ¶How the king Arcriſus, when he ſawe his daughter with childe, ſent her to exile: and put her in a little veſſell into the ſea, at the aduenture of fortune, &c.

THe noble Damoſell Danae abode with child of the ſéede of Iupiter, as it is ſaid before. After that Iupiter was returned into his countrey, ſhe abode paſſing long in hope, that he would come to fetch her by ſtrength of people, and would leade her into his Realme, as he vnto her had promiſed. In this hope ſhe mounted often times into high windowes of the tower, and caſting her eyes now hither, now thither, vpon the mountaines, wayes and ſtréetes, for to awarre if he came, or that ſhe might ſée his men of armes, and his people of warre, and without end, ſhée had alway her eares open, to hearken if ſhe might heare the Trumpets, Tabours and Clarions. This hope dured long, vnto the laſt day that Iupiter had promiſed: and ſore ſhe complained in this tyme of his abyding, and ſayde vnto her ſelfe, that he would come. But certes, when euening was come of the day that he had ſet, and hee was not come, nor ſhe heard no tydings of him, when ſhe ſawe that hée came not, and that the fruit of her bellie appeared: ſhe went downe from the window of the hie Tower, and all ſurpriſed with diſpayre, to beholde her belly, ſayde: poore belly, I may no longer hide thée, I haue couered thée vnto this time, hoping the comming of Iupiter: the day is come and paſt that he ſhould haue come, and there is no tidings of him. Alas, and hath he alſo forgotten me? Where art thou Iupiter? Art thou dead or aliue? If thou be dead, ſpeake to mee in ſpirite, in excuſing thée of thy default. Tell me what I ſhall do with thy ſéede? And if thou be aliue, what right euill aduenture holdeth thée? Art thou wearie of me? Of Danae? of her that thou enforcedſt by raining golde? of her that thou ſo much deſiredſt? Alas, thou promiſedſt me thy loue, and gaueſt it vnto me: and I receyued the gift in good part, and gaue vnto thée mine heart, in like caſe, and more then thou wéeneſt. And what ſhall this be, Iupiter, my loue and friend? Art thou of the nature of falſe men, as hypocrites that go about to deceyue poore women, and then leaue them in diſhonour? Alas thou art one verily, thou haſt brought me into perpetuall ſhame, and haſt abandoned and giuen me ouer. O miſchieuous man, O falſe lier, be thou curſed with thy riches, and accurſed be the houre that euer I ſaw thée. I am for euer by thée put to ſhame: and by thée mine ende approcheth. I may no longer hide thy workes. Where ſhall my childe become? euery man ſhall ſée and know my treſpaſſe. Alas my father ſhall put me to death, I may not faile of it: and as for death it ſhall not grieue me, ſaue for the fruit that I beare: yet ſhall I kéepe it as well as myſelfe, at all aduenure come what may come thereof, &c.

In theſe and ſuch like wordes, Danae paſſed ouer this night, without ſléeping or reſt: from thenchforth ſhe began to be all melancholious, and tooke this ſo ſore to heart, that ſhe fell into a right grieuous maladie. When the maydens that nothing knew of this caſe, ſaw her ſo euill diſpoſed, they ſignifyed it into the king Acriſius. And then came the king to viſit his daughter, and betooke her to the cure of his Phiſitians and cunning men, and demaunded of them what maladie ſhe had. They anſwered him in the preſence of Danae, that ſhe was great with childe, and that in ſhort time ſhée ſhould be deliuered. Danae anſwered, that they fayled to ſay the truth, and that ſhe had neuer knowne man: and denied her fact as much as in her was poſſible, hoping alway to liue: for ſhe knewe well that her father would condemne her to death, if he knewe that ſhe were with child. And about this, all the maydens of the houſe ſtriued with the miſtreſſe, ſaying, that they had well and ſurely kept the tower, that no man ſaue the king had ſpoken to her, but if he were come inuiſible, ſince that they had receyued her into their gouernance. Whereat the king was greatly abaſhed, and ſore wondered.

When the king heard theſe wordes, and ſaw the ſtate of his daughter, he was ſore troubled. For by experience he ſawe well, and it appeared that Danae was with childe: hée truſted and beléeued better the Phiſitians, then the excuſations of the maydens, and of his daughter. And for to knowe the truth, he ſent all the maydens of the place into priſon to Argos, and betooke Danae in kéeping to other women, and commaunded them vpon paine of death, that they ſhould tell him, if ſhe were or happened to be deliuered of childe or no. Within a certaine tyme, when Danae ſawe her in this caſe, ſhée began to fall into wéeping. The king Acriſius, from this day forth, came euery day to knowe how ſhe did. She wept without ceaſing: ſhée ſpake not but vnto her heart: and ſhée bewayled her loue, and complayned on Fortune ſorrowfully. But when ſhe had laboured long in theſe wéepings, and that her faire eyes were made great and red, about fiftéene dayes before the time of her childing, the beganne to remember the cauſe why ſhe was put into the Tower. And that the gods had prognoſticated, that ſhe ſhould haue a ſonne that ſhould bée king of Argos. In this remembrance ſhe was comforted a little: and when the time came that nine months was expired, ſhe brought forth a paſſing faire ſonne, which the Ladyes and women receiued and named him Perſeus: And after that ſignified it vnto the king. But at the birth of this childe, ſhe excuſed and put out of blame all the damoſels, and ſaide that they were all innocents of her fact.

Anon then as the king Acriſius knew the veritie of his Daughter, and that ſhe had a faire ſonne, he had in his heart more of ſorrow then of ioy, and condemned her to death indéede, and commanded two of his mariners, that they ſhould take the mother and her childe, and put them in a little Boate, them both alone, and that they ſhould carrie them farre into the high ſea, that after ſhould neuer man ſée them nor haue knowledge of them. The mariners durſt not refuſe the commaundement of the King: but by his commandement, they went vnto the Tower Dardane, and tooke Danae, and her ſonne Perſeus, and ſaid vnto the damoſell al that that they had charge to do, praying her humbly that ſhee would pardon them. And this was about midnight, when Danae vnderſtood that ſhee ſhould bée caſt into the ſea, and her ſonne with her. Yet ſhe had hope to eſcape this perill, by the meane of the fortune of her ſon. This notwithſtanding, the teares ran downe from her eyes, and wéeping tenderly, ſhe tooke her leaue of the ladies and damoſels that had her in kéeping: and they let her be caried vpon the ſea, making complaint & pitious bewailings.

When the mariners had brought hir vpon the ſea, they left her in a litle boat, & put in her lap Perſeus her faire ſon. And as haſtily as they might they conducted her into the déepe ſea without meate or drinke, and without ſterne or gouernaile, and gaue her ouer to all windes. Then was there many a teare wept among the mariners, and Danae, and Perſeus the young childe. The marriners bewailed with great compaſſion that they had to ſée ſuch a Damoſell abandoned to perill of death. Danae wept in conſidering the rigour of her father, and the fault that Iupiter had done to her, and alſo for the perill which ſhe might not reſiſt: and Perſeus wept for the blowing of the winde, and for the groſſe ayre of the ſea, that his tenderneſſe might not well ſuffer to endure. In this faſhion the Matrones returned to Argos, and the right diſcomforted Damoſell Danae went forth vpon the waues of the ſea, at the agréement and will of the windes. The waues were right fearefull, and lifted themſelues into the ayre as Mountaynes, the windes blewe by great ſtormes, the little Boate was borne and caſt vpon the waues, and oftentymes Danae looked, and ſuppoſed to haue periſhed: but ſhée had alway hope in Fortune. And ſo well it happened, that in this aduerſitie and trouble, ſhée was caſt into the Sea of Apulia or Naples. And there ſhée was found by aduenture of a Fiſher, that for pitie and charitie tooke her into his Shippe, and her ſonne, and brought her on lande, foraſmuch as hee ſawe it was great néede.

At this time the noble Danae was as a deade bodie, and halfe gone: when the marriner had brought her a land, the tooke a ring of gold that ſhe ware on her finger, and gaue it vnto the good man, praying him, that he would bring her into ſome houſe, where ſhee might warme and cheriſh her, with her childe, for he was nigh dead for colde, and was all in a traunce. The marriner tooke the Golde Ring, and brought the Damoſell, and the little childe into his houſe, and made them a good fire, and brought them meate and drinke. As ſoone as Perſeus felt the ayre of the fyre, his heart came to him againe, and he began to laugh on his mother. When ſhee ſawe that, all her ſorrowes turned to nought, and ſhe tooke hope of good fortune. She then made ready and arayed her ſon, and her colour came againe: & ſhe did eate, and drinke. What ſhall I ſay? the fiſher behelde her, and then ſéeing in her ſo much beautie, that the like to her he ſawe neuer none, he went vnto the court of the king of Naples, and tolde him his aduenture, prayſing ſo certaynly her beautie, that the King ſent haſtely for to fetch her. This King was named Pilonus, and was ſonne to the auncient Iupiter. And when Danae was come before him, ſodaynlye he waxed amorous of her, and demaunded her name, her countrey, and the cauſe why ſhe was aduentured on the ſea. At beginning ſhe excuſed her ſelfe of al theſe things, vnwilling to tell all, and began to wéepe. When the King ſawe that, he comforted her and ſaid to her, that he would take her to his wife, for her beautie: and ſpake ſo fayre to her, and ſo graciouſly, that ſhe tolde him al her life, how ſhe was daughter of the king Acriſius, and how ſhe was ſhutte in the tower, and how Iupiter had deceyued her, and how her father hadde put her in the ſea. What ſhall I ſay more? when the King Pilonus heard all theſe fortunes of the damoſell, he had pitie on her, and wedded her with great honour, and did put to nurſe Perſeus, and gat on her a ſonne, which was named Danaus: but of this matter I will ceaſe, and turne again to the hiſtory of Iupiter. &c.

CHAP. XXIX. ¶How Iupiter returning from Troy by ſea, encountred the great theefe Egeon, which he fought with, and ouercame: and of the tidings that hee had of Danae, whereof hee was paſſing ſorrowfull.

WHen Iupiter was departed from Troy, as afore is ſaid, he made his mariners to ſaile and row with all diligence, for to withdraw from the port, and for to approch Crete, for he knew well that the time of his promiſe made to Danae was expired, and that diſpleaſed him greatly, that he might not amēd it. His mariners did all that they could do by the ſpace of a day naturall, but the day being paſt, there roſe a tempeſt in the ſea, ſo terrible and out of meaſure, that it bare many ſhips with their furniture vnder water, brake their ſternes and helmes, and drowned all the ſhips, ſauing onely that ſhip where Iupiter was in: wherefore he wept outragiouſly. The tempeſt dured two dayes and two nights. They ſaw not that time in the hauen, ſunne nor moone nor ſtarres. Iupiter and they that were with him thought neuer to haue died other death, yet they eſcaped the death, and tooke land on the third day when the tempeſt was ceaſed, not in Crete, nor in the ſea of Europe, but in the Ocean ſo far, that they knew not the language of them that inhabited the port where they came to ancre.

When Iupiter and his people ſawe the ſtrangeneſſe of the people dwelling in this port, and their maner of doing they knew that they were farre from their region, and then was Iupiter diſcomfited, in ſuch wiſe, that he wiſhed that he had not bene there, nor come on ye ſea, foraſmuch as he knew well that he might not accompliſh his promiſe made vnto Danae his Loue. Hee made many great bewaylings touching this matter, and more then I can ſay: and alſo complained for his men that he had loſt in the ſtorme and tempeſt, as well as he complained for the default of his promiſe. But when his companions, that is to wit, Ixion, and the Centaures, and Ganimedes, had refreſhed them, and vittailed them, and had well put all things in point, and had taken all things neceſſarie for their ſhip, they weighed anchor, and departed from the port, & tooke their way into the Eaſt: and ſo laboured day by day, and moneth vpon moneth, that they entred into the ſea Egee. And they had not long ſailed, when Egeon the great theefe and rouer, which held at his will all this ſea: then they diſankred from the port of the Ile of Deſert, and accompanied with ſixe gallies, and with a thouſand men of armes, came before Iupiter, prouiding them to battaile, in purpoſe to haue deſtroyed them.

When Iupiter and the Centaures ſaw the behauiour of the théefe, they knew ſtraightway that they might not faile of battel, & ſaying each to other they would defend themſelues vnto the death: they had not long held parliament among them, but they furniſhed them with their armes, and diſplayed the banner with the Eagle of gold. And in the diſplaying, they made a great ioy, as they had beene in paradiſe. At this time had Ganimedes his wounds healed. When he ſaw that each man prepared him to fight, ſauing hee, which was priſoner, hee came and knéeled downe on his knées before Iupiter, and required him right humbly, that he would commaund to deliuer him his harneſſe, for to help to maintaine his worſhip, and alſo to defend his life, promiſing to do his true deuoir. Iupiter tooke vp Ganimedes, when hée ſaw him ſubmit himſelfe, and began to ſet his loue on him, in ſuch wiſe, that it endured vnto the death: and that more is, he made that his harneſſe and armes were yéelded to him, ſaying, that from thenceforth they would be brethren and fellowes in armes. And Ganimedes anſwered to him, that he would alway abide and dwell his ſeruant.

During theſe ſpéeches, Egeon and his galleis borded the ſhip of Iupiter: and fought with them hardly. Egeon was in the front before as captaine. Iupiter beheld him and knew him by his armes that he bare, and yet that any ſtroke was ſmitten, he called to him and ſayd. Théefe and rouer and pyrate, how dareſt thou purſue to death him that made thée tremble, and flie before him at the battaile of Crete, by ſéeing of his ſword dyed and made red with the bloud of the vnhappye Tytanoys? Beholde and ſee mee, I am Iupiter the mortall enemy of all thy linage. Thou in likewiſe art my enemy, and now art come to battaile againſt me. It maye be well ſayde, that we ſhall run each vpon other, by great force: and that this conflict ſhal be right damageable for thée or for mée, and let the goddes doo their pleaſure.

When Egeon vnderſtoode what Iupiter had ſayde to him, and that he was the deſtroyer of his linage, he had his heart ſo incenſed with yre and impacience, that he could not anſwer one word: And grenning with his téeth, he began to ſmyte ſo hard toward Iupiter, that if the ſtroke of the axe, that he ſmit had bin right, there had neuer bin remedy of his life. But Iupiter knew the feates of war, and when he ſaw the ſtroke come, he auoyded it: and lifted vp his ſword, and charged it vpon Egeon ſo ſurely, that he could not auoide the ſtroke, which was ſo forcible, that he was ſo aſtonied as it made him fall downe vpon the plankes of the galley. Then made the pyrates and théeues a greate crye, and fell vpon Iupiter, and his fellowes. Ganimedes helde his axe in his handes, and was not then ydle: he fought and wrought valyantlye, after his power, and ſo did the Centaures. The ſkirmiſhe was great, and many were deade, not of the partye, of Iupiter, but of the partye of the pyrates, and then laboured the Centaures, ſo that they dyed theyr galleyes with the bloud of theyr enemies: And that the pyrates, albeit they were tenne againſte one, coulde not, nor might not abyde before them. &c.

Thus began the mortall battaile of the pyrates, and of the Centaures, when the one Galley had fought as long as they might, an other came on. This Iupiter and Ganimedes had inough to do to fight and they fayled not what to do, for the more they ſmote, the more diſpleaſure had the pyrates. Each of their ſtrokes was the death of a pyrate. In proceſſe of time Egeon came againe into the preaſe diſmayed, and fulfilled with impatience, he put himſelfe forth to fight, in the moſt ſtrength, all deſperately, to winne all, or to looſe all. At this time the battaile was ſo terrible and ſo deadly, that al the Gallies cloſed the Ship of Iupiter, and ſmote on it: but this was to their miſhap and ilfare, for the moſt part of them were ſlaine: and then Ganimedes and Iupiter entered into the galley of king Egeon, where he fought ſo ſore, on the one ſide and the other, for enuie who ſhould do beſt, that of all them that were within, there was not left one man, but he was ſlaine, or caſt into the ſea, excepting onely Egeon, which Iupiter tooke with his hands, and bound him with an hundred chaines of yron, &c.

With theſe chaines of yron Egeon had a cuſtome for to bind his priſoners, vntill the time they had done his will. When the pyrats ſawe the miſchiefe that came vpon them, and that their maiſter was ouercome and bound with the chaines that he was woont to torment the priſoners withal, they intended to ſaue themſelues, and withdrew them from the ſhip of Iupiter, ſaying, that thoſe that they had fought withall, were no men but diuels: and that they were vnhappie that came vnto their hands. Iupiter had but one ſhip, The pyrates diſperſed abroad one here, another there. And when the Centaures ſawe that, they ſayde to Iupiter, that it ought to ſuffice to haue this victory ouer his enemy, and that it was no néede to make purſuit after the vnhappie théeues. Iupiter accorded to the ſame, and entred againe into his ſhip with Ganimedes and Egeon, and after made his mariners to take their courſe againe. And alway he had in his memorie Danae. It néedeth not to make long talke of theſe trauels and iourneyes, and other aduentures. Hée was a yeare long ſayling by the ſea: and in the ende of the yeare, he arriued in his Realme, and there found foure hundred horſes, which they of Crete preſented him to his welcome.

The Quéene Iuno his wife, made great chéere, for ſhée loued him with all her heart, wherefore ſhee feaſted him, and them that preſented to him the horſes. And hee put in priſon Egeon, and let Ganimedes go frée where hee would: they loued then together euer after as two brethren. When Iupiter had beene there thrée dayes, hée tooke foure hundred of his men of the moſt puiſſant, and made them Gentlemen, and after made them Knights, giuing to each of them one of his Horſes: and taught them, and infourmed them the feates of armes, after the diſcipline of Ixion and the Centaures. And when they had doone this, hee aſſembled a thouſand Pietons, or foote men, and two hundred Archers, and with the companie of them and of the Centaures, and of the Knights, hée departed from Crete fiftéene dayes after his returne: and ſent not for Pluto, nor for Neptune, and tooke his way vnto the Cittie of Argos, meaning to haue taken away the fayre Danae. But he had not farre gone, when he encountred and met one of the Citizens of Argos, a gentleman and worſhipfull, that recounted and tolde to him all the life of Danae, for as much as hee demanded of him tidings. And aſſured him on his life, that the king Acriſius had ſet her on the ſea, for as much as ſhe had brought forth a little ſonne againſt his commandement.

When Iupiter heard the caſe and the miſfortune of Danae, he began to ſorrow and ſigh ſore: the ſweate came into his face, and teares into his eyes, he called Ganimedes and Ixion, and tolde them, that his voyage was broken; and that the king Acriſius had caſt her into the ſea, for whom he made this armie. Ganimedes and Ixion comforted him the beſt wiſe they could, & brought him again to Crete: he helde him there ſolitarily a whyle: and lay by his wife Iuno, and Iuno and her Aunt Ceres made him good chéere oftentimes. And ſo oft came Seres, that once ſhe aſked the cauſe of his ſorrowe. He behelde the beautie of her: & for that ſhe was alone, he vſed the matter ſo that he had to doo with her, and knewe her fleſhly, and that ſhe conceiued of his ſéede a daughter: and after he determined in his minde, that he would go into Sicill, and conquer the countrey, delighting alwaye to occupie himſelfe in feates of armes: and taking leaue of the King Ixion, and of the Centaures, his ſhipping was made ready, and he went to the ſea, and came into Sicill, and conquered it vnto the Ile of Lemnos. And when he had ſo doone he went into Italy, and came into the houſe of King Ianus, which receyued him, and made him great chéere, and tolde him that his father Saturne was come newly for to dwel there by, and that he was ſingularly loued of al the people, for as much as he taught them to labour the vines and to ſow corne.

Al the bloud chaunged in Iupiter, when he hearde that Ianus ſpake to him of his father Saturne: neuertheleſſe he went for to ſée him, and ſawe him, and founde his Father making and founding a newe Cittie in the place where now ſtand the Capitoll of Roome. And in ſuch wiſe hée ſubmitted him to his Father, that Saturne tooke him to his grace, and made peace with him: and alſo accorded to him that he ſhoulde enioy from thenceforth his realme of Crete. At the accord and making of this peace, were the King Ianus, and the King Euander, and they dwelled the one nighe the other, that is to wete, Ianus in a Cittie called Laurence, and Euander in a Cittie being nigh the mounte Auentin: and ſo was there the king Italus of Syracuſe, that made in this time a newe Cittie named Albe, vpon the riuer of Tybre. All theſe kings made great chéere for the agréement of the father and the ſonne. And thus Iupiter abiding there, he acquainted himſelf with the wife of king Euander, named Nicoſtrate, for aſmuch as ſhe was right expert in the ſcience of nigromancie, and in charmes and ſorceries: And of hir he learned this ſcience. Iupiter after this, tooke leaue of her, and of his father Saturne, and of his neighbours, and left there Saturne, that was married againe vnto a woman called Philiris, by whom he had a ſonne called Picus, that was father of king Famus, huſband of the quéene Fatua, of whom Hercules was amorous (as it ſhal be ſaid in the ſecond booke) and returned into Crete, and there found that his wife was deliuered of his ſonne Vulcan, and that his beloued Aunt Seres was deliuered of a daughter, named Proſerpina. Wherof Iuno was right euill pleaſed and content, and complained to Iupiter of the diſhonour that he had done to her. But Iupiter ſet nought thereby, but laughed, and was more ioyous of his daughter then of his ſonne: For his daughter was maruailous faire, and Vulcan his ſonne was foule and crooke-backed. Notwithſtanding, for to liue in peace with Iuno, he married Seres to another man named Siccam: and gaue to them the Realme of Sicill, and the Citie of Siracuſe: and ſent them to dwell there with Proſerpina. And it was not long after that, but hee ſent his ſonne Vulcan into the Ile of Lemnos, whom he betooke to be gouerned by thrée men, named Berrotes, Seropes, and Pyragmon: and kept him ſo well that he came to age, and that he was a man of right noble minde, and learned all ſciences, in eſpeciall Nigromancie, Geomancie, and Pyromancie, and made many meruailous things, that be paſt credit to ſpeake: wherefore I will tarie now of him and of Iupiter. And will treate of his ſonne Perſeus, for as much of him came Alcumena.

CHAP. XXX. ¶How the Queene Meduſa came to Athens, to worſhip in the temple of the goddeſſe Pallas. And how the king Neptunus waxed amorous of her, and how ſhe deceiued him.

IN this time when Iupiter dwelled peaceably king of Crete, and that his ſonne Vulcan waxed great, and learned the craft of Nigromancie, in the land of Heſperye there paſſed out of the world a king named Porcus, a man of right great valour, which the Heſperiens called god of the ſea of Spaine, anciently named Heſperie, as is ſaid. This king left thrée daughters that had not but one eye, as the Poets ſay: that is to ſay, their principall care was for the vanities of the worlde, and therefore they were called Gorgons, that is to ſay, ſtudious or louers of the earth, for as much as they intended vnto vices, that hold of earthly things. Of theſe daughters, one was named Meduſa, the other Euriale, and the third Senno. Meduſa, that was the eldeſt of all the other, ſuccéeded in the Empire and in the Realme. And the Poets ſay that 〈◊〉 had the head of a Serpent: giuing by this to vnderſtand, that ſhee was wonderfully wife and ſubtill. After the death of King Porcus, this Meduſa gouerned mightly her Realme, and maintained py •• es and men of warre, and in hir beginning ſhe occupied and haunted the ſea of Europe at pleaſure, and with right great triumph. And landing on a day at the port of Athens, ſhee ſent vnto king Neptune, to require him that he would grant vnto her, that ſhe might enter into his Citie, for to worſhip in the temple of the goddeſſe Pallas, which was newly made. Neptune did great honour vnto the Meſſengers of Meduſa, and accorded vnto her, that ſhee ſhould enter into his Citie, and into the Temple, vpon condition that ſhe ſhould haue none with her ſaue her damoſels. Whan Meduſa heard the aunſwere of king Neptune, ſhe concluded that ſhée would go into the temple: where of was a great talke. And ſhe was accompanied with many Damoſels ſo richly arayed, that it was a gallant ſight for to ſée. She entred into the Temple and into the citie, and there ſhe turned into ſtones, not onely the men that beheld her, but alſo the women, and among all other eſpecially a Quéene that was named Ida.

By this it is to be vnderſtood, that this Meduſa was of ſo excellent beautie, and was ſo paſſing rich, that all they that beheld her, gaue themſelues ouer wholly to couet her beautie, and her riches. And therefore write the poets, that they were turned into ſtones: For, they that diſpoſe thēſelues and giue them to the delightes of this worlde, be lykened and compared vnto harde ſtones, whereof maye no good come. Thus then Meduſa entring into Athens, conuerted and turned manye men into ſtones: in ſo much that Neptunus heard theſe tydings, and deſiring to ſée thys Quéene, hée went into the Temple where ſhée was in contemplation. And hée hadde not long behelde her, when hée felte himſelfe ſo deſirous of her, and of her loue, that hée ſayde to himſelfe, that ſhée ſhoulde be his wife, and that ſhée ſhoulde neuer eſcape him.

This Meduſa was long ſpace in contemplation, during which Neptune deſired her beautie more and more, and his heart gaue him, that he ſhould obtaine his purpoſe. And anon after that his heart had thus chéered him, he a little pauſed, conſidering the excellencie of her griefe and thought trauerſed and aroſe in his minde, that conſtrayned him to ſay theſe wordes that follow: Alas, in what matter, in what ſorrowe, and in what right great and enflaming payne be they that be burning in loue by long ſpace of time, that I alreadye beginne to finde mée in ſo manye ſighes and paynes, that I wot not howe I maye in time come vnto this Ladye, for to require her to be my wife She is ſhining in all beautie, and in right aboundaunt riches. This is it that I lacke. She beholdeth me otherwhiles in her prayers: it maye happen ſo well, that loue may turne her heart, for to make aliance betwixt her and me. And what is this? men ſay that loue hurteth no man, but if it be by his eyes. If the eyes be not made for to ſée, I will ſaye that my deſire ſhall hap well. Where am I? where I am: put me out. Where is my hart? where is my deſire? I know not what I thinke: my thought may be abuſed, and my abuſe may well be reuerſed: myne eyes peraduenture thinke they ſee that they ſée not. Mine eares imagine to heare, and yet they be deafe. I finde my ſelfe in a great perplexity and very ataynder: and yet more, in a ſuperfluous errour, more then any man may haue. For, when I ſée this Ladye more excellent then all other in beautie and riches, reaſon telleth me, that ſhe is not come hither for me: and when I behold, that ſhée is alone without men in my Cittie, who ſhall againe ſaye my will? I will require her to be my wife, after that ſhe hath doone her deuotion: and if ſhée accord to my requeſt, my labour ſhall doo well. And if ſhe gainſay, and withſtand it, then I muſt vſe force and authoritye royall.

Thus, when Neptune came to this concluſion, Meduſ • aroſe from her contemplation, and looked right fayre. Neptune went to her, and did her reuerence, and after prayd her, that ſhe would go to his royall pallace for to refreſh her. Meduſa thanked him of his curteſie, and ſayde, that ſhe might not well tarye there at that time. When Neptune vnderſtoode that ſhe was to returne, without ſtaying longer in his houſe nor in his Cittie: hée was ſore diſpleaſed in his heart, yet hée helde her in parle, and drewe her a parte, and ſayde vnto her (chaunging coloure) Madame, I am ſorye that ye refuſe to take harbor in my houſe. I am king of this Cittie, the goddes haue not giuen to mée ſo great happe, that I haue yet any wife, any Lady or damoſel: it is ſo now happened, that the gods and fortune haue enſpired you to come hither. Certes, it is ſo that your right high beautie hath prepared the eye of my heart, and hath made me ſo deſirous of you, that I giue vnto you heart, body, and goods, and all that a louer may giue vnto his loue and Ladie, or any king may giue. Wherefore I pray you, that ye will go vnto my pallace, to the end that I may haue communication more ſecretly there, and tell you of the right great loue that I haue to you.

Anon, as Meduſa vnderſtood the requeſts of the king, ſhee began to frowne, and not willing to bee otherwiſe intreated, ſhe anſwered to him. Syr king, if it were ſo that mine heart deſired acquaintance and communication with one man more then with another, in truth, if I ſo found me diſpoſed, I would holde my ſelfe right happie, finding my ſelfe in the grace of your eyes: but the matter goeth with me far otherwiſe, I loue men, as much one as another. I haue a purpoſe to abide and continue in my virginity. Ye be a king: you haue giuen to me ſafe conduct for to performe my pilgrimage. I deſire you that ye holde you content, and that ye beare your ſelfe in ſuch wiſe, as if yee had neuer ſeene me. Madame (ſaide Neptune) how ſhall I do that ye ſay, when my heart is all giuen vnto you? Sir (anſwered Meduſa) it behoueth firſt to know, and after that to loue. I haue tolde you here that I haue a purpoſe to abide a virgine, what may it profit you to ſay, that ye haue giuen me your heart? theſe be but loſt words. Dame (ſaide Neptune) the Diamond ſhineth, not till it be poliſhed: ye were neuer peraduenture deſired nor requeſted of loue before now: wherefore ye haue no more loue to one man then to another. Therefore yée muſt vnderſtand, that acquaintance bréedeth loue: and if ye will come and abide with me, I make no doubts but that your minde will change, and that ye will make a league with me. Sir (anſwered Meduſa) my will is vnchangeable. Notwithſtanding (ſaide Neptune) it muſt change, be not abaſhed. Sir (anſwered Meduſa) I ſée nothing that giueth me cauſe of abaſhment: for I féele my heart firme and ſtable in his operations. Ye be a King, and haue giuen me ſafe conduct, for to finiſhe my deuotion at the Temple of the goddeſſe of your Cittie. Reaſon and honour ſhould gouerne your courage. Dame (ſayd Neptune) if your beautie ſurmounted not the beautie of other women, I would conſent anon to your returne: But when I conceyue in my minde you formed in ſo high a degrée of nature, that nothing lacketh in you. And further, when I ſée that the great goddeſſe Pallas hath enſpyred you to come to this my Cittie, reaſon maye haue no place: howſoeuer it be by loue or by force, ye ſhal be my wife: for I had leuer die, and run into al the diſhonours of the world, then for to fayle to haue your loue.

When Meduſa that was wiſe had vnderſtood the wordes of Neptune, and ſawe well that he was couragiouſly inflamed with her amorous deſire, and that ſhe might not eſcape his power, for her beautie, vnleſſe it were by an aduenture: then ſhe chaunged her haire into colours: that is to ſaye, that where force reygned, ſhée wrought by ſubtiltie, and ſayde vnto the King. Syr, I knowe that ye be a great and puiſſante Lorde, and that loue hath mooued you by force to take me to your wife. Since your pleaſure is ſuch, I am content to do all what ſhall pleaſe you in ſuch wiſe as ye haue demaunded, and that this ſame daye be made the mariage betwéene you and me: but, the more ſolemnly to halow the feaſte of our wedding, I requyre you of two things: Firſt, that I maye returne vnto the porte, to my people, for to araye and dreſſe me with my coſtly Iewels, for I maye not employe them to more great glorie then to vſe this daye of my mariage: And ſecondly, that ye will cauſe to araye and adreſſe the ladyes of this citie, for to receiue me as it appertayneth: for I will that ye well knowe, that in all the remnant of ladyes of the world, ye ſhal not find any that haue more moueable goodes nor riches then I haue.

Neptune was then as one al rauiſhed in ioy, when he heard this anſwer of Meduſa: he thanked her for her ſwéete words, and agréed to her, to do in ſuch wiſe as ſhe had deuiſed. And anon he ſent againe this Meduſa vnto the gallies, hoping that ſhe would returne againe to be his wife: but when ſhe, by the ſubtiltie of her wit, was deliuered againe at the port where Neptune had nothing to do: in ſtead for to returne to the citie, ſhe cauſed to weigh ancres of al her ſhips, and hoiſt ſaile, and in all haſte withdrew them from the port: and in ſtead to array her inveſtments nuptiall, ſhe tooke her arms, and made all her men to arme them. And thus ſhe eſcaped from Neptune, who was in great ſorrow maruailouſly, and in great anger ſaide, that ſhe had the head of a ſerpent, and that her haires were turned into colours, to the end to hide more graciouſly the malice of her heart: he repeated the maner how ſhe had deceiued and beguiled him, &c.

Thus then eſcaped Meduſa the hands of Neptune, by the meane of her head ſerpentine: & Neptune abode conuerted and turned into a ſtone: that is to ſay, hauing his minde ſet on earthly affections, and on the riches of Meduſa, and went not after her, for as much as her power of men, ſurmounted much all the power of Athens. Of this thing ranne the renowme through all Greece. And the beautie of Meduſa was ſo commended, that from thoſe parts, went euery day many knights to ſée her, and many of them were turned into ſtones, and many loſt their treaſours: innumemerable enforcing themſelues by armes to conquer this Lady, who withſtood alway their aſſaults and indeuours, and alway abode conquerour of them.

Meduſa ſet nought by King nor Prince that would haue her to wife. Shée was all ſet to get and gather the treaſures of the world. Whereas her father had béene very couetous, yet was ſhée more couetous, and comming againe from Athens into her owne Realme, after ſhée hadde brought vnder ſubiection the Greekes that rebelled againſt her, as is ſaide, ſhée was ſo plunged in the déepe ſwallow of couetouſneſſe and auarice, that ſhée made war againſt al her neighbours, and conquered them, conſtraining them to pay her yearly large tributes. Whereby her eſtate and name aroſe, and was ſo great, that the fame thereof ran into many farre regions: and among other in the Citie of Naples, where reigned the king Pilonus, as afore is ſayd.

In the time that the renowne of Meduſa was in this credite, Perſeus ſonne of Danae and Iupiter was in the valour and prime of his ſtrength: and hee dayly required his mother and the king, that they would giue him leaue to ſéek his aduenture. When then Pilonus heard ſpeake of the mightineſſe of Meduſa, of her rapines, and of her auarice, he thought that his ſonne in lawe ſhould do a vertuous worke, if hée might correct her: ſo he told to Perſeus that he would ſend him thither. Perſeus thanked him, and ſayde, hée woulde employ thereto all his puiſſaunce. Then the king Pilonus ſent for men of Armes, and made readie thirtie Gallyes for the armie of Perſeus, and dubbed him knight, for the order of chiualrie began that time to be vſed in all the world. And it was decréed that that ſame day Perſeus ſhould go to the ſea.

And when the king had accompliſhed all the ceremonie to the caſe requyred in the Painims wiſe, Perſeus tooke leaue of the King Pilonus, and of his mother Danae, and of the damoſels, and right ioyouſly entred into his Galley: afterward they weighed ancres, and departed from the port of Naples, with a great noyſe of Tabors and Trumpets, and with banner diſplayed, and ſayled into the déepe ſea. It was a good and faire ſight to ſée his departing. There was many a teare wept: euerie bodie loues Perſeus, for ſo much as hée was humble and courteous. The Apuliens departed neuer as long as they might ſée him: and then after they returned home, praying vnto the goddes, that good and right happie might be the fortune of Perſeus. And the noble knight went by the ſea, and the coaſts at all aduenture. What ſhall I ſay? he ſo haſted on his way that he came to Affricke, that was named Libie at that time, and there would haue refreſhed him at a porte, beſide the ſtrayte of Gybaltar where as was King Athlas, the great Aſtrologyen. But this King putte him from landing at this porte, and came in armes againſt him, and ſhewed by ſigne a farre off, that he would kéepe his countrey with his ſword. Then Perſeus, which woulde not there employe his armye, withdrewe him from the porte meaning to auenge him an other time, of that hard vſage, if fortune would helpe him. He paſſed the ſtrayte, and ſought ſo long the Realme of Meduſa, that anon after he found it, and had tydings by certain merchants that he found trauailing on the Sea, who tolde him that ſhe and her ſiſters ſoiourned in a citie which ſtoode on the ſea coaſt

Great was the ioye of Perſeus, when he vnderſtoode theſe tydings: his folke had great nede of vittayle wherefore he called them all and bad that they ſhoulde make them ready and arme them, for they were nighe the place that they ſought: and then, as they ſayled away forth, about thrée houres before the euening they ſaw the citie where Meduſa was in, and moreouer they ſaw Meduſa and her ſiſters with a great number of men of war that were trained on the port, ſo richly arayed and furniſhed ſo that it was meruaile to ſée. When Perſeus ſawe this, he diuided his armie in three equall battailes, each of ten galeys, and ordeyned and put in captaines of war: and wiſely enformed them howe they ſhoulde come nigh and approche the porte. And after he put himſelfe in the firſt battaile: and the poets ſaye, that the goddeſſe Pallas gaue to him then a ſhielde of cryſtall: that is to vnderſtand, that he approched right wiſely the port that was vpon the great ſea of Spayne, and that he conducted himſelf by ſuch prudence which is likened to criſtal, yt he came and fought hand to hād againſt the puiſſance of Meduſa: & that by the ſhining of ye right cleare ſhield of his prudence, in receiuing & giuyng infinit ſtrokes, he gat lād, and conſtrained Meduſa to returne to her city, by force of armes, and by proweſſe and with a good ordering and fighting of his ſouldiers. At that time the head ſerpent-like of Meduſa might not withſtand his firſt fortunes: for ſhe that was accuſtomed to put vnder foote, and ouercome all them that expoſed them in armes agaynſt her, at this time was put to the ſame extremitie, that ſhe had put other to.

CHAP. XXXI. ¶How Perſeus vanquiſhed in battaile the Queene Meduſa: and how ſhe fled into her Citie.

SVch was the beginning of the war that was betwéene Perſeus and Meduſa, where the Gorgons ſo fortunate (which Meduſa had cheriſhed right dearely) fell downe from the whéele of Fortune, which whéele had cōſented that the prudence of Perſeus ſhould be cauſe of theyr downefal, and humbling. This notwithſtanding, Meduſa tooke courage in her ſelfe, and reentred into her Citie, and gaue charge to one of her men, to go vnto her enemies, and to enquire of them, who was chiefe and captaine of them, and what thing he ſought in her Countrey? The Heſperiens, at commaundement of Meduſa departed from the Citie, and came to the hoſt of the Apuliens, that were buſie for to lodge them that night: and hée haſted ſo much that he came to Perſeus, who tooke his refection vpon a table that he had made of a great ſtone of Marble, and ſaid to him in this wiſe: Sir, the conquereſſe of men hath ſent me to thée, for to enquire what thing thou wilt do in her countrey, to the end that ſhe may know what ſhe hath to do? Meſſenger (anſwerd Perſeus) I haue a purpoſe to enfranchiſe and make frée all men from the ſeruitude that thy miſtreſſe holdeth them in: and to make her that hath but one eye, that ſhee conuert and turne men no more into ſtones, and that her riches ſhall be no more the cauſes of the loſſe and perdition of knights which would haue hir in mariage. For, againſt her malice of the ſerpent, I wil be armed with prudence, and will well that ſhe know, to morrow, without longer delay, I will giue aſſault vnto the Citie, in caſe ſhe come not againſt me in battaile,

With this anſwere, the Heſperien returned vnto Meduſa, and recounted vnto her all that he had heard. Meduſa aſſembled then all her men of warre, and ſaid to them: it is no maruaile though I haue mine heart ſore troubled, when after yt I haue vanquiſhed great companies of men of armes, I ſée that ſhamefully we be driuen backe, and withdrawne into this Citie by the proweſſe of an handfull of men. O what griefe is this to them that haue béene accuſtomed to ouercome, and to triumph in all manner of warres? Where be the high enterpriſes, by which wee made all the Weſterne Seas to feare and dreade? Where be the ſwords that haue béene yéelded to vs, by the kings our tributaries? Where bee the armies and ſtrengths that haue made to tremble the mountaines, and Rockes of Libia? Where bee they that this day haue taken feare for proweſſe, dreade for hardineſſe, diſhonour for honour? At leaſt ſince this thing is ſo handled, it behoueth to deale the beſt wiſe we may: but now it behoueth alſo, that euery man incourage and ſhew himſelfe valiant, and that to morrow it be recouered, that by vs this day is loſt. The enemies of the Citie haue doone vs to vnderſtande and knowe, that to morrow they will giue vs aſſault, if we furniſh not them with battaile. And for as much alſo as they be trauailed on the ayre of the Sea, it is much better that we furniſh them with battaile at this time, then that wée ſhould abide longer. Our enemies be ſtrangers, here lyeth our triumph or euer mortall miſaduenture. If we ouercome them, it ſhall be a memorie for vs farre and nigh in all honour. If the caſe go contrarie, wee ſhall runne with the loſſe of our liues into deriſion, and mockerie of all people. And what is this, ſhall the bloud be ſpread abroad of them, that haue made the ground red with the bloud of other? Shall the honour be waſted and loſt, and alſo the name that wee haue gotten with ſo great labour? All the worlde take to them courage and hope: theſe two things be as néedfull in war, as the armes, and without them ſhall neuer man attaine to the crowne of victorie. Ah then take heart to you, and make readie your harneſſe and armes: to morrow muſt be the day that ye muſt néedes make to ſhine your déedes the beſt wiſe ye may, and that for to kéepe your renowmes, and your titles of honorable proweſſe.

Dame (anſwered one of the Captaines) it is great pitty, that ye were not a man, for if it had béene ſo, it is apparant that ye would haue conquered and put vnder all the monarchie of men. As ye ſay, we muſt néeds kéepe our renowme, if fortune hath beene to vs this day froward, to morrow ſhe ſhall turne to profit. The wounds and hurts that be made in our worſhippes and bloud, wee muſt beare it, and take it in good part. And our proweſſe and honour ſhall to morrow put from vs all notes and ſhame, wee will ſo behaue our ſelues. Can yee not riſe ſo early, that we might be on the front of them well arayed, and proued for to fight for the proſperitie of your land? we wil do your requeſt. When Meduſa heard the good will of her captaine, to whom conſented al the other, ſhe was right ioyous, and concluded with them, that ſhe with al her puiſſance would beſet and aſſaile theyr enemies at midnight, in hope to come vppon them vnwares. This concluſion was thought good vnto all: and each man withdrew for to take their reſt, and for to make readie his harneſſe. Meduſa ſlept not much this night, as ſhee that had the heart alway great, and ſore charged with gréedie deſire of vengeance: and at midnight, then ſhe ſounded to armes, and made them to be ready and furniſhed. Shée tooke her banners that were right rich, and her men were diligent inough to arme thē, for in that art they were well inſtructed. And when they were readye and aſſembled before the Pallace royall, Meduſa and her Siſters iſſued out of the gate, in rich eſtate, and giuing good morrow to her folke, with as little noyſe as ſhe could, ſhe diuided them into two companies, whereof ſhe made one company to depart by one of the gates of the Citie, and ſhe her ſelfe conducted the other by the gate that was againſt the port or hauen. &c.

At this time the aire was pure and cleare, and the ſtarres twinckled: and anon the Moone ſhone, and put away the darkeneſſe of the night according to her celeſtiall office. When Meduſa was in the field, ſhe went along by the ſea ſhore, and ſuppoſed to haue taken Perſeus and his folke, but ſhe failed: for as ſoone as ſhee iſſued out of her Citie, it was perceiued of the watchmen of the hoſte of Perſeus, and they ſignified their comming, to Perſeus and his men, that ſlept in their harneſſe. And thus, when ſhe approched vnto her enemies, and had ſuppoſed to haue diſtreſſed them, ſhe founde them readie furniſhed and trained in good order of battaile, wherewith there aroſe a right great crie of both parties, and with this crie there grew a great ſkirmiſh, ſo eager and fierce, that it was néede vnto all, to put foorth their proweſſes and their ſtrengths. There was many a man caſt downe dead vpon the ſand. There many a ſword died red with bloud. Then beganne the ſecond battaile of Meduſa, making a great noyſe in ioyning of the battaile, and then had they of Naples a ſtrong partie for to maiſter, &c.

In this tempeſt Perſeus gaue himſelfe to no reſt: he had alway his eyes open, his eares bent to heare, his armes ready to ſmite: hee was quicke in his greene youth, his ſword flaſhed and cut deſperately: he ſmote no man nor ſhield, but he all to brake it, and ſlewe all downe right. Meduſa, that alway put her in the moſt ſtrength and affayres, and moſt preaſe, by mightie great courage for to entertaine and to holde together her men: ſéeing often times the practiſes, and the noble feates of armes of her enemie Perſeus, had great ſorrow, for with his onely valour, he held the Apuliens in eſtate and ray, and there was none that might reſiſt his ſtrength, or at leaſt, that had might to reſiſt him. This thing turned to great diſpleaſure vnto Meduſa, yet ſhe corrected this diſpleaſure, and vſed her proweſſe the beſt wiſe ſhe might. Shée did great hurt to her enemies, and ſmote downe here and there ſo valiantly, that ſhe ſéemed much better to be a man then a woman: and better became her to brandiſh a ſword, then to ſpinne or turne a ſpindle.

CHAP. XXXII. ¶Howe Perſeus in this battaile, ſlewe the mightie ſiſter of Meduſa, and vanquiſhed her in the battaile.

THis ſkirmiſh then dured long, with great beating down of men of arms and knights: the enuie that Meduſa had at the wel doing of Perſeus, gaue to her armes more force & ſtrength, then nature had giuen her. Shée was full of malice, and yet ſhe could kéepe her well from the ſword of Perſeus. And alway ſhe was enuironed with the beſt men ſhe had. What ſhould I make long talke: they fought in this faſhion vnto the day, before that any wiſt to whom he ſhould aſcribe the victorie: but euen as the ſunne began to ſpread and ſhew his beames and raies: in ſemplable wiſe, Perſeus began to ſhew the raies of his prudence, & brandiſhed his ſword. And ſeeing on the one ſide the baner royall, he thronged into the preaſe, and drew to that part, caſting men downe dead on the ſands, moe then an hundred. This baner was ſquare foure foote, made of crimſen ſatin: and in the middes was an image painted, whereof the body was a figure and faſhion of a woman, and the head was of a ſerpent.

Meduſa was neuer far from this baner, for ſhée drewe her alway thither for reſkew. When Perſeus was come thither, with a great companie of his folke, hee cryed Perſeus, Perſeus. And lifting his ſword that was tempered with blood from one ende to the other, it happened that the firſt ſtroke that hee gaue in this place, fell vpon one of the ſiſters of Meduſa, ſo terribly, that ſhe fell downe dead, with a great wound beginning on her head, and going downe to her ſtomacke. Then they of Naples ſmote on the Heſperiens with all their force. Then ſmote Perſeus endlong and ouerthwart, on the right ſide, and on the left ſide: his ſtrokes were ſo mortall, that they afrayed not onely the moſt féeble of his enemies, but all the moſt ſtrongeſt, and alſo the moſt couragious Meduſa.

Great was the ſlaughter: and being at that point, Meduſa enforced her power to withſtand the great force of Perſeus. This notwithſtang, ſhe that afore times had ouercome many men, was then ouercome: and hauing late the greateſt courage, and the heart more fierce than any man, ſhée was vanquiſhed with deſpayre, by the onely chiualrous dealing of Perſeus, that had brokē her banner, that had ſmitten her men in péeces, partlie ſlaine with his ſword, & partly fled. And he had not onely made redde his ſworde and right hand with her blood, but the ſea by ſmall gutters was made red with warme blood: through which Meduſa loſt her ferocitie, all her preſumption, all her ſtrength, and al her vigour: ſo euill went the game on her ſide, that when ſhe had ſéene her banner deſtroyed, when ſhe had ſéene the moſt victorious of her knights confounded by ſight, and when ſhe ſaw her men of armes leaue the battaile, and flie before Perſeus, as before the image of death. Finally, ſhe ſaw all her puiſſance turne into deſtruction generall, whereof the ende was, that each man gaue it ouer, and euery man that might ſaue himſelfe, ſaued him by caues, and buſhes, here one, and there another, ſo ſore afrayde, that it was a pitious thing to heare their cries: and many ſaued them in the Citie, and many were ſlaine in the flying, by Perſeus and his men.

CHAP. XXXIII. ¶How Perſeus conquered Meduſa, and her Citie, and ſmote off her head. And how hee went to fight againſt the king Athlas of Septe, a mightie and puiſſant Giant.

PErſeus at this diſcomf • ture purſued Meduſa, flying into her Citie, and entred in with her, and the moſt part of his people with him, that failed him neuer to put to death all the men defenſable that they found, to the ende that no inſurrection ſhould be againſt them: but they ſpared the blood of women, and little children, by the commaundement of Perſeus. And among the other, as Perſeus found Meduſa that was hid in a Ciſterne, hée had pittie of her: howbeit he ſmote off her heade. And of the bloud that iſſued out, there ingendered Pegaſus the flying horſe. By the heade that Perſeus ſmote off from Meduſa, is vnderſtoode, that hée tooke from her her Realme, and depriued her of it, and baniſhed her poore and naked. And by the flying horſe that was ingendered of the blood iſſued from her head, is vnderſtoode, that of her riches iſſuing of that Realme, he founded and made a ſhippe named Pegaſe: that is as much to ſay, as good renowme: and this ſhip was likened vnto an horſe flying, foraſmuch as the good renowme of Perſeus was then borne from region to region, in ſuch wiſe, as vpon an horſe flying. And foraſmuch as Perſeus went in this ſhip, into diuerſe Countreys, where he gate him a great name.

By this faſhion Perſeus conquered the head of Meduſa, and did make Pegaſe, the moſt ſwift ſhip that was in all the world, and abode there a certaine number of dayes, ſéeking the treaſures of Meduſa, and the riches on which ſhe and her ſiſter had ſet theyr delightes, and theyr hearts.

There found Perſeus ſtones precious, and things maruaylous. When his ſhip was made, he filled it with precious ornaments and iewels, and leauing in this Citie men for to gouerne and guide it, he went to the Sea, and tooke for his armes the armes of Meduſa, and reſted not till he came to the port of the Citie, where reigned Athlas, ſaying that he would put him vnder and ſubdue him, before he returned into his Countrey.

This Citie had to name Septe. Athlas knew well the armes of Meduſa, and from as farre as he ſawe Pegaſe the ſhip, he knew the armes that were therein: then he thought that Meduſa had béene vanquiſhed of theſe ſtraungers, and doubted ſore their comming. This notwithſtanding, he did put his men in armes, and be wailed much Philotes his brother, otherwiſe named Heſperus, hee that kept the garden with Apples of golde, with his daughters. When his folke were armed, he trained them vpon the port in good order: and anon after came to the port, and there he was aſſaulted with diuerſe and ſharpe conflicts. Athlas was yong, ſtrong of bodie, and puiſſant of people: he defended him valiantly, and kept the port with the poynt of his ſworde, ſo well, that by his aſſault, Perſeus conquered nothing on him in two dayes that the aſſault endured: but that was more by the ſtrong nature of the port, then by the ſtrength of the ſworde of the king Athlas.

Then when Perſeus ſaw that he had not folke inough for to take this port, he withdrew him into the déepe ſea, and ſent into Naples, vnto the king Pilonus, halfe the treaſures of Meduſa, ſignifying to him his hie aduenture, and requiring him, that he would ſend him a thouſand ſouldiers. The king and Danae had great ioy of theſe tydings: and at the requeſt of Perſeus, aſſembled fiftéene hundred fighting men, which they ſent into Libie, with his owne ſon Danaus, whom they ordained chiefe and captaine of the armie. When Perſeus ſaw come theſe fiftéene hundred fighting men, from as far as he had ſpied them in the ſea, he know that it was flying ſuccours that came to him, and tooke his flying horſe, and went to méet them, and found there Danaus his brother, to whom he made the moſt great cheare of the world, and entred into his ſhippe, and there abode all that day feaſting him. And after when it came to be night, hée commaunded his marriners, that they ſhould rowe and ſayle toward Septe. And they ſayde to him, that on tho morrow they would deliuer him at the port. With that the Marriners laboured to do their beſt cunning: ſo that after the night was paſt, about the Sunne ryſing they ſhewed to Perſeus the hauen and port of Septe.

Then was Perſeus full of great gladneſſe, and called Danaus, and ſayd to him: my brother, we be now come to the port, where thou ſhalt get this day honour and worſhip, if it pleaſe the gods: for if the good aduenture helpe vs, the honour ſhall appertaine vnto thée before me, that durſt not enterpriſe this alone by my puiſſance. Oh then, in the name of all our gods, let vs employ here the head of Meduſa: for my minde giueth me aduiſe at this time, that ſhe ſhall turne into ſtones all them of this Region: that is to vnderſtand, that by thée and thy men, that by the meane of the riches of Meduſa be come hither, they of this Citie ſtanding before vs, will bee conſtrayned to abandon and giue ouer their port, and flie betwéene the walles of ſtones of their Citie. My brother (aunſwered Danaus) I haue good daye and truſt in fortune, that ſhée will bée thy helper: but for the honour and worſhip of this 〈◊〉 it ſhall not turne to my profite, but vnto thine that af ••• 〈◊〉 our of ſo honourable a worke: and I deſire nothing in this part, but the name of a ſouldier: for as thy ſouldier, moued onely by the loue of our fraternitie, I come for to ſerue thée. And as for the riches of Meduſa had they not come into Naples with thy right good fame, theſe warriors had not come into Libie. Then for concluſion, it is to be ſaide, if in this worke bée honour, that it muſt turne vnto thy glorie and prayſe: but this notwithſtanding, I will not fal • e thée: but for thy loue and worſhip, I will endeuour to the aſſault all that I maye, and will ſerue and obey thée as my lord, and naturall brother. And I praye thée to tubbe, and make me Knight.

With this word Perſeus drew out his ſword, and gaue to Danaus the order of knighthoode: and afterward commaunded, that each man ſhould furniſh him with his armours: and then made to diſplay baners, ſtanders, and penons, and other cogniſances, and enſignes of war. After he did cauſe to ſound his trumpettes, clarions and tabours, and then prepared all his galeis, and they ſet in right fayre and good order, and ſayled ſo much that he came to the port, which was al ful, and enuyroned with Libiens that were ready to caſt on them ſpeares, dartes and ſtones: For they of that countrey were right expert in the warre. And to come a ſhore at this port there was a right great hurliburly, and a very gréeuous conflict. Perſeus was in Pegaſe, and aſſayled the Libiens at one ende: and Danaus was in the galley, and aſſayled them in likewiſe. And they putte them both in the moſt daunger of the aſſaulte: they hadde great ſhieldes and large, wherwith they couered them.

They dreaded no ſtroke of glayne ne ſworde, nor of ſtones: they putte themſelues into the myddeſt of the porte, and there they gaue the aſſaulte: where manye were deade on the one parte, and on the other there were plentye of fighters, in ſuch wiſe that at the entrye there were manye Apuliens ouerthrowne and put backe, for they were then hote and eager: but after this, when they hadde gotten lande, Perſeus and Danaus beganne to ſmyte ſo vnmeaſurably vpon the Lybiens, that they beate them downe without remedye, nowe heere nowe there, at the right ſide, and at the left ſide, all made red with theyr bloud. Alſo Perſeus gaue ſo great a ſtroke with his ſword vnto Athlas, that purpoſed to haue come and broken the rankes, that neuer after Athlas had no hope, nor durſt not come among the ſtrokes, albeit that he was great, ſtrong and puiſſant.

Too much couetous of victorye were Perſeus, and Danaus, and they of Naples: the Libiens had not béene accuſtomed to finde ſo fierce and mortall armes, as them of Perſeus. The king Athlas wiſt not what to ſaye: he encouraged his people the beſt wiſe he could. This notwithſtanding, hée ſawe them beaten downe of his enimies without number and without meaſure, and ſawe further, that they of Naples wan alway. And when he had ſéene all this, and alſo beheld, that theſe men had vanquiſhed the Quéene Meduſa, he iudged in himſelfe that he was not puiſſant ynough to reſiſt their ſtrength, and that the hardines of this battaile ſhoulde be to him more damageous then auailable: ſo ſounded he the retraite, and fled, not into his citie, but into a right hie mountaine that was thereby: and therefore ſay the poets, that Athlas by the ſight of ye heade of Meduſa, was turned into a Mountaine. And from thenceforth was this hill called Athlas, and yet endureth the name vnto this daye. And for as much as Athlas ſaued him there among the ſtones he foūded afterward a caſtele there, where he dwelled vntil time of Hercules.

CHAP. XXXIIII. ¶How Perſeus turned the king Athlas into a ſtone: and how the Queen Auria wife of king Pricus waxed amorous of the Knight Bellerophon that refuſed her, wherfore after he had much payne.

WHen Perſeus and Danaus, ſawe Athlas and all his folke putte to flight, firſt hée chaſed them vnto the Mountaine, where they were turned into ſtones, dying with their bloud the caues, buſhes wayes & pathes. And ſecondly, when they hadde put them vnto vtter foyle, as much as they coulde, they drewe to the Citie, whereof the gates were not ſhut nor kept with any man: and entring in, they found none but a little number of matrones and yong children, which made a terrible great lamentation. All the yong men and women were fled vnto the fields, and had abandoned the Citie with their folke and goods. When Perſeus and Dardanus were within, and ſawe that it was abandoned to them and their people, they tooke all that they founde, and paſſed that night with great ioy & gladnes, making great cheare, and thanking their goddes of their victorie that they had giuen to them. And on the morrow, Perſeus made to be beaten downe the gates of this Citie: after he commanded that euerie man ſhould take his ſpoyle, and when they were laden with all, Perſeus and Danaus went to the ſea into their gallies, and ſailed forth, leauing Athlas in the mountaine, where he gaue him vnto the ſtudie of Aſtronomie.

In this time Iupiter made aliance with king Troos, by the meanes of Ganimedes: and in ſigne of loue and friendſhip, he gaue vnto Ilion a picture of gold, which was ſet in the palace of Ilion, as it ſhall be ſaide in the third booke. And it was not long after that king Troos came to the courſe and end of his raigne: and his obſequie was halowed, and kept ſolemnely at Troy in great aboundance of teares. And then Ilion was crowned king of the Citie, where hee liued in ampliation and increaſing of his ſeigniorie and lordſhip, and wedded a noble Ladie of the citie, of whom he receiued a ſon named Laomedon. And for as much as I finde not that Ilion did any thing after his coronation, nor made other thing, ſaue that he finiſhed and made his pallace, I will ſpeake henceforth of Laomedon his ſonne that raigned after him. And héere I will leaue the noble déeds of this Ili? on: and yet ere I write of Laomedon, I will perſue my matter of Perſeus. And for to come thereto, I will recount an hiſtorye that fell after that Perſeus had turned king Athlas into a mountaine.

In this time then that Perſeus began to giue his life vnto right worthie déedes and works of noble fame: Acriſius Grandfather of this Perſeus, and naturall father of Danae, was put out of his kingdome and Realme, and all the ſeignorie of Argos, by a conſpiration that Prycus his brother made againſt him. And there was left vnto Acriſius of all his Realme, no more but onely the tower of Dardain, wherto he fled for refuge. This Acriſius and Prycus, were naturall ſons of Abas, lawfull ſonne of Linceus, that was only left aliue, of the fiftie ſonnes of Egiſtus, by the mercie of his wife Hypermneſtra, daughter of Danaus.

Pricus then hauing vſurped from his brother Acriſius the ſeignorie of the Realme of Argos, had a wife named Aurea, yt was ſo brought vp, that of cuſtome ſhe had no delight, but to liue in voluptuouſneſſe. And on a day ſhée beheld among her ſeruants one ſo comely a knight, that nature had nothing forgotten in him touching his bodie: of whom ſhe was enamoured. Shee was yong, and her huſband Pricus was ancient in his demeanure & conditions, and much leſſe deſired carnall concupiſcence then his wife did, though they were both right neare one age. This knight thus beloued, hadde to name Bellerophon. When Aurea had begunne to loue this knight, ſhe ſolicited him with her eyes, and with her countenances, drawing him to delight and fleſhly luſt. But the true knight, that had his heart firme and ſtable, which perceiued well her countenance, diſſimuled, and fained that he was blinde in this part. And in the ende when the Ladie ſawe that by countenance nor ſigne amorous that ſhe ſhewed, he employed him not once for to pleaſe her, but fled her companie: in the moſt euill wiſe that ſhe might, ſhee intended to turne her loue into hate, and her faire countenances into fierce malice, ſo enuenimed, that for to make him die, ſhée accuſed him before her huſband the king Pricus, ſaying, that he would haue enforced her, wherefore ſhe required iuſtice inſtantly.

At this accuſation made, Bellerophon was preſent, and being ſore abaſhed, and aſtoniſhed at the beginning, but hearing the Ladie ſpeake, at length he cleared himſelfe, and excuſed him, ſaying: Madame neuer pleaſe it vnto the gods, that for to couer mine honour, I do diſcouer the diſworſhip and fault of another. Let neuer man aduance himſelfe by defaming another: This knowing, I will ſay the truth, and if there bee any man that may worthily prooue this againſt me, and ouercome me, no bleſſing to my heart. I will ſtand to the iudgement of all noble men that haue knowne my behauiour. Alas ladie, from whence is come this abuſion, for to charge me that I ſhould haue willed to enforce you? when or in what place was it doone, or where be the witneſſes of the crie that ye made at the affray? where be the prooues that ſhall ſay that euer in my life I was with you alone? It giueth me maruaile from what heart departed this diſhonour that ye note in me? and for what cauſe it is imagined againſt me? for I will well that all the world know, that I haue ſerued you truely and loyally, and that I neuer thought diſhonour vnto you nor vnto the king, to whom I pray that he will take and make information vpon my liuing, and to vnderſtand in like wiſe yours. And if it can be prooued and appeare that I haue treſpaſſed, that I may be puniſhed: but I pray alſo, if I be founde innocent, that I may haue ſpéedy abſolution.

Syr ſaid the Ladie, that ſtrongly was obſtinate in her errour, I make me partie againſt him. If then I accuſe him, it is truth, it ought not to demand witneſſes of his follie. In this caſe I am worth two witneſſes: for all the world knoweth, that when an ill man will diſhonour a woman, he calleth no witneſſes nor no prooues thereto, but doth his damnable will the moſt ſecretly that in him is poſſible. And ſo wéened Bellerophon to haue doone with mée, wherefore I require ſentence and iudgement of him. With theſe wordes, Pricus aſſembled his Councell, and it was iudged that the ladie ſhoulde bee beléeued, and that Bellerophon ſhould bee culpable of death. Then ſpake Pricus to Bellerophon and ſaid. Faire ſonne, thou knoweſt and haſt found that I haue loued and nouriſhed thée louingly: thou vnderſtandeſt the accuſation of thy Ladie, the caſe is ſo foule, that it may not be purged by denying. For if it were ſo, the euill boyes and had fellowes, would all day diſhonour as many of our women as they could find. In this caſe the Ladyes haue a prerogatiue for to be beléeued, and néede not to bring forth witneſſes, And foraſmuch as thy miſtres hath vanquiſhed thée, and required iudgement of thy treſpaſſe, thou art condemned to die. But foraſmuch as before this time I haue had great loue vnto thée, and that I knowe thée a valiant man of thy bodie, I will mittigate and attemper this ſentence in this wiſe, that thou ſhalt go fight agaynſt the Chymere of Sicill, and if thou mayſt ouercome and maiſter her, I giue thée thy life, and giue thée plaine abſolution of all, vpon condition that neuer after thou renue nor rehearſe this treſpaſſe.

Sir (anſwered Bellerophon) ſith that fortune conſents, that I be attainted of any infelicitie: and that the priuiledge of the Ladies take place, and go aboue reaſon: I had much leuer to be vanquiſhed by wrong cauſe and euil, then by iuſt and good cauſe, and thanke you of the moderation of your iudgement, and make vow here in your preſence, that in all haſte I will go into Sicil, to proue me againſt the Chimere, and will ſée if fortune will helpe me to get againe the life, which ſhe hath made me loſe by your iudgement. Then the noble knight departed, and tooke leaue of the king, of the ladies and damoſels, tooke alſo his armours, and goods, and made couenant and bargained with certaine marriners, to bring him to Sicill. When they were agréed, he went to the ſea with little companie, and was euill at eaſe at his heart, when hee ſawe that Fortune was to him ſo contrarie: yet hee comforted him ſelfe in his good quarrell: and ſayling on a daye on the Sea of Helleſponte, his Marryners looked into the Weſt, and ſawe come a right great floate of Shippes of warre, which diſcomforted them ſo ſorrowfully, that it was wonder, and they awooke Bellerophon that at that time ſlept, and ſaide that they were but dead and caſt away.

Bellerophon comforted his marriners the beſt wiſe hee could, and told them that diſcomfort could not helpe them: and as he was thus ſpeaking, a gallie of aduantage went out afore his fellowes, and flying on the ſea like vnto a bird adreſſed her vnto the ſhip, wherein was Bellerophon, and aborded it. And who that will demaund what the name was of the gallie, and what men were therin: I wil ſay to them, that this was Pegaſe, and that Perſeus was within it. As ſoone as he might ſpeake to the marriners that caried Bellerophon to Sicyll, hee aſked and demanded them, what they were, and into what region they would go? When Bellerophon heard Perſeus ſpeake, hee behelde his behauiour and countenance, and iudged in himſelfe that he was of a good houſe, and ſaid to him: Certes ſir I haue much great ioy, for that I ſée the ſhip and marriners be ſo well adreſſed, and in ſo good readineſſe as yours be, for ye ſéeme well a knight of a noble houſe, and therefore I tell you my caſe, afterthat ye haue made your aſking. Firſt then, where ye enquired what we bee, knowe ye that in Argos wee haue taken our birth: And as to the ſecond, I anſwere you, that we haue a purpoſe to go ſtraight into Sicill, to the which I am conſtrained by the rigour of a mortall iudgement, caſt vppon mee at the inſtance of a Ladye called Aurea, that vniuſtly and vntruely hath complained vppon mee, ſaying that I would haue enforced her. This Ladye that I ſpeake of, is wife to king Prycus, which newly and of late hath baniſhed and exiled his Brother Acriſius out of his Realme, and this King, for to pleaſe and ſatiſfie the accuſations of his wife, hath condemned mée to be put to death, yet for the good and the acceptable ſeruice that I haue doone to him, hée hath graunted me to liue, if ſo it pleaſe the goddes, that I may by poſſibilitie vanquiſh and ouercome a Chimere that is in Sicill, vnto the which I go for to aſſay mee. So I pray you that in our miſfortune, we be not let by you, neither by none of your companie.

Valiant knight (anſwered Perſeus) as it is true that the heart of a noble man taketh pitie, and compaſſion in the diſtreſſe and paſſion of his equall: the weighing of your caſe hath pearced mine heart with a charitable mercie and pitie, by which yée may ſurely vnderſtand, not to haue by vs any hinderance during your infortunate life. And for as much as the hearts of them that would be induced at calling to the déedes of Armes, ſingularly delyte them in aduentures of great woorth and weight to get credite by, I will accompanie you, for two cauſes. The firſt is, to expoſe my ſelfe to the diſputation and deſtruction of the Chimere, if it happen that you ouercome her not, which I ſuppoſe yée can not. And the ſecond is, that after the Chimere be vanquiſhed, I may be guided by you vnto the Realme of Argos. For from nowe forth, I will be enemie vnto the King Pricus, for the ſake of the father of my mother the King Acriſius. And for to let you haue more greater knowledge of this matter, I tell you that I am ſonne to Danae: that verie ſame ſonne that was conceyued in the tower Dardan, of the ſéede of Iupiter, and that ſame in perſon, that king Acriſius made caſt into the ſea. But this notwithſtanding, I ſhall take no vengeaunce on his demerites, but for the honour of the blood, and of the wombe of whom I am iſſued, I ſhall ſuccour and ayde him, and pray you that ye will be my fellowe and brother in armes, and that ye will come into my Galley, and ſend home againe your marriners into their countreys, if it pleaſe you.

When Bellerophon heard the good wordes and aunſwere of Perſeus, he made alliances with him, and entred into his Galley, and gaue leaue to his marriners, and accompanied with him Perſeus and Danaus, that for loue of him took their way into Sicil, where they arriued in ſpace of time, and tooke land: and that ſame day Bellerophon armed him, deſiring to finde the Chimer, and tooke leaue of Perſeus, in ſuch wiſe, as he that put him in perill of death. The Ports write that this Chimere had the head of a Lion, the wombe of a goate, and the taile of a ſerpent, but for truth it was a mountaine inhabitable, that had in height aboue a paſſing great caue of Lions, and in the middle of the hill it was full of goates, And at the foote beneath, it was enuironed and ſet round about with ſerpents. Theſe lions and ſerpents were paſſing damageable, and noyous vnto the countrey about and nigh. When Bellerophon then ſaw the mountaine, he went thither, and Perſeus and Danaus followed him. They had not long marched, when they ſawe and behelde more then a thouſand little Serpents with many great Dragons, of whome ſome came about Bellerophon and caſt out theyr venime, and the other paſſed foorth, and came running vppon Perſeus and Danaus, which hadde promiſed to Bellerophon, that they would there doo no déeds nor enterpriſe of arms, but if it were by conſtraint, and in defending their bodies.

Anon as theſe thrée valiant knights ſawe theſe curſed beaſts, they tooke their ſwords and ſmote vpon them, and be headed many of them, but with this they had great paine and trauaile, for theſe beaſts were cruell and full of pride, and hardened them eagerly to them, and if they had not béene well prouided with abillements of warre, they had there ſooner haue found death then life. Bellerophon went alway afore, and ſmote downe right, and headed, and ſmote into péeces many. Perſeus nor his Brother Danaus fought not, but with the beaſts onely that came vppon them. When Bellerophon had a little ceaſed the fight and battaile againſt this vermin, and had found it more ſharpe and more biting, (for the point of his ſword was made terribly blunt, with ſmiting againſt their hard ſcales and ſkinnes) then there leapt downe and out of their holes the goates and the lions, and came downe for to aſſaile the the knight, in ſo great number, that hee was all enuironed with them, &c.

Some of theſe beaſtes eſcaped from him and came to Perſeus, and gaue him his hands full to employ his ſtrength and proweſſe: the Lions leapt about the necke of Bellerophon, ſometime in ſuch number, that in no part he might be ſeene. Yet by his abilitie he could well ſaue himſelfe, but he had neuer eſcaped, there came ſo much venome vpon him there, and beaſts, and on Perſeus and Danaus, which ſo fiercely aſſayled them, and if hee had not woonne a rocke, vpon which he gat vp with great paine, and right great ſweate of his bodie. For to go vpon this rocke, there was but one ſtraight way. Then compaſſed him the Lions, and with them the other beaſts, which ſtayed on the way of the rocke, and at the foote, roring and making great noyſe about him, ſo that Perſeus and Danaus had none other hope for the knight, but that it had béene his laſt day: for he had ſo many beaſts about him that it was likely, that the edge and cutting of his ſword might not long endure, without it had béen worne or broken. Then the Lions when they might not touch his bodie, bote the ſtones, and did teare them with their clawes, the ſerpents flew vp into the aire, and lifted vp theyr bodies vpon their tayles, and caſt fire and ſmoke out of their throtes vnto the rocke. And the moſt hardeſt of the Lions, one after another trained themſelues in battell againſt him, and ſhewed their téeth, receyuing his ſtrokes ſore ſet. And they fled not, but abode as beaſts familiar and ſore couetous of mans blood, in whō raigned excéeding great fiercenes, as much as in any wild beaſt of the world at that time.

Hard and maruailous was the battaile, as Perſeus and Danaus beheld, and thought in what faſhion they might ſuccour Bellerophon. The noble knight defended him to his power, and ſéeking howe he might ſaue him from this perill, he caſt his eyes vpon a great ſtone that hanged ouer the way of the rocke, wherevpon he was mounted, and then he thought if he might make that ſtone to fall downe, that hée ſhould flea the moſt part of the beaſts. Then he beganne a little and a little to wag the ſtone, and to ſéeke the ioyntures that held it, and ſo much laboured, that in the end he made it fall vpon the lions, ſerpents, and goates, in ſuch wiſe as in the falling he made all the rocke to tremble, and feared in generall theſe vnhappie beaſts, ſo that they were there all bruiſed, like as the thunder had come vpon them, and yet that more is, with the tumbling downe, it made the rocke that Bellorophon ſtood on ſo ſhake, that he tumbled downe thereon, and was ſo aſtonied, that hee wiſt not whether it was day or night.

The ſtone was great, and brought downe many ſtones with him, Perſeus and Danaus thought at the beginning, that all the mountaines had tumbled downe, and were not well aſſured in themſelues. This notwithſtanding, they beheld plainely the end, and ſéeing after the noiſe of the tempeſt, that their fellow lay vpright all along vpon the rocke, they ſuppoſed that he had béene dead. Then they made great ſorrow, and were diſpleaſant, and approched the rocke, where they found the beaſts lying vnder the ſtones dead, and they went vpon the mountaine, and then knew that Bellerophon was not dead: whereof they recouered great ioy, and ceaſing their ſorrow, they tooke the knight betwéene their armes, and Perſeus demaunded him how it ſtood with him, and how he felt himſelfe.

CHAP. XXXV. ¶How Perſeus vanquiſhed the monſter of the ſea, and expoſed himſelf againſt him for the loue of Andromeda. &c.

PErſeus and Danaus awaited gladly the aunſwer of Bellorophō, and they held him for the moſt beſt accompliſhed knight that euer they ſawe. What ſhall I make long proceſſe of this matter? Perſeus and Danaus ſearched this mountaine, and went into the caues of the beaſtes, but they found none. And ſtill ſate Bellorophon vpon the rocke, for he might not go for the hurt and bruſing of his foote. And then as the two Knightes had fetched a compaſſe and gon aboute the hill, they returned to Bellorophon, and then Perſeus ſayde to him. My brother, O how well art thou worthy to haue of me prayſing and commentation? thou haſt this daye doone a good and holy worke, by thy worthy behauiour, thou haſt gotten vnto thy name the crowne of glorious fame. Thou haſt paſſed the ſtrayte way and paſſage of infortune, from whence thou art iſſued cleare as the ſunne. And not onely thou haſte laboured for thy weale and vtilitie, but for the weale and proffit of this region. For thou haſte flayne the warders of the ſerpentes and the porters of the Lyons that kept this countrey inhabitable, which ſhall from henceforward be inhabyted and occupied with people. Bellorophon was all abaſhed when hée heard the glory that Perſeus gaue vnto him, by méekenes and humility that was in him. And anſwered, if there be anye worſhip in this worke, that it ſhall turne as well vnto them as vnto him, and they beganne to prayſe each one another, and they eate vpon this hil ye ſame night, after they had made ſacrifice vnto their goddes. And thither came all the Apulyens, where they made great chéere. Afterward they tooke all the ſkins of the Lyons, and the heads of the ſerpentes that were dead, in ſigne of victorie, and laded them in theyr galies, and they bare them with them into their galey with Bellorophon which might not go, and finally they went vnto the ſea, and ſayled and rowed toward the porte of Athames which was nigh by, but when they thought to haue drawne vnto this porte, ſodainly there aroſe a tempeſt on the ſea ſo great and hydeouſ • , that they were conſtrayned to abandon them vnto the wind, and paſſed foorth by the hauen, and their fortune was ſuch that they were brought into Sirie, vpon the ſea of Paleſtine. And they came into the porte and hauen of Ioppe, where reigned Amon, and in Paleſtine reigned Cepheus and Phineus. &c.

The ſame time that Perſeus arriued there by meanes of this tempeſt, the porte was full of men and women and children, that it ſéemed that al the world had bin aſſembled. Perſeus came thither alone, for his folke were diſperſed vpon the ſea, ſome héere and ſome there in the galeis. When the Siriens ſawe him ariue by force of the winde, they aſſembled in a great number about his flying horſe. And ye king Amon ſéeing that it was loaden with the heads of lions, he was ſore abaſhed. And for to know from whence was that galey come, he enquired who was the maiſter? At which inquiſition anſwered Perſeus, and demaunded of the king curteouſly, in what Countrey hée was arriued: The King tolde him that hée was in Sirie: and that the Realme appertayned to him. When Perſeus knewe that he ſpake to the king: he ſayde. Syr I am deſcended vnto this porte by the diſpoſition of fortune, alſo my men be ſore trauailed by the tempeſt of the ſea, that hath béene long troublous vnto them, I require and pray thée that thou be content, that I and they maye come a land héere for to refreſhe vs. And if it happen in time comming that thou or any of thine haue • éede of like courteſie in Naples, which is the place of our dominion, I promiſe thée, by the promiſe and word of a noble man, that the like merit & thanke ſhalbe rēdred vnto thée. The king anſwered: noble knight there be ſo many ſpyes now adayes ſayling by realmes and countreyes, that a man may not well knowe to whome he maye a •• y and truſt. This notwithſtanding, I ſee well by your behauiour, that I trow that ye will not giue vs to vnderſtand any other thing then truth. I abandone to you all my countrey: and pray you that ye will come and take pacience in my houſe, and furthermore I councell you, that ye depayte and come out of your ſhippe: for if ye abide there long ye ſhall be in great perill, For aſmuch as we knowe certaynlye, that into this porte will come anon a monſter of the ſea that ſhall deuoure a right fayre virgine and mayde, which is héere by, bounde vpon a ſtone, for the cryme of her mother, and by my ſentence. And if ye tarye héere till his coming, it is to doubt, that it ſhalbe the worſe for you. Boccace in the genealogie of the goddes toucheth not otherwiſe the cauſe why this mayde was thus expoſed to the monſtre. Wherefore I paſſe it ouer: and who demaundeth the name of this mayde, Boccace ſaythe, that ſhée was named Andromeda.

When Perſeus had vnderſtoode that there was bounde this mayde, he deſired to ſee her, for the meruailous iudgement that was giuen vpon her, and arayed him with rich veſtiments and cloathes and then iſſued out of the galey, and tooke out alſo Bellerophon which might not yet help himſelf, and after he went vnto Andromeda. There were her parentes and couſins in great number, which labored in ſorow and great plentye of teares. When Perſeus ſawe this mayde that was paſſing fayre in her degrée, which neuer ſawe her like or match, he hadde pittie of her, and ſayde to himſelfe, that if hee might hée woulde delyuer her from this perill. Then hée called her friendes, and ſayde vnto them in the preſence of Amon: I haue certainly great pittie and compaſſion of this ſo faire a damoſel: and alſo am amaſed how the goddes ſuffer and endure that ſhe is ſo fortuned in her tender yeares. If it ſo happened yt ſhe might haue any knight or noble man, that would vnbinde her, and for charitie expoſe his body againſt the monſter for the loue of her, ſhould ſhe be quite? They aunſwered yea: Ah then ſaid Perſeus, if I wold for her ſake aduenture my ſelfe in this worke: and if it ſo fortuned that I had the grace to ouercome and ſurmount the monſter and for to put him to the foyle, will ye be content that the mayde be my wife? They aunſwered yea, yea. And I promiſe you, ſayd Perſeus, and ſweare, that ſhe hath found me, a knight that ſhall put his body and life in ieopardye for her. &c.

With this word Perſeus ſent to fetche his armes: and after went to the Damoſell and vnbound her from the ſtone, and deliuered her to her friendes and kinſmen. Saynt Auguſtine in the booke of the citie of God, rehearſeth, that yet in the ſame porte is the ſtone that Andromeda was bounde vpon, that they of Ioppe kept for a ſigne and memorye of the victorye that Perſeus had of the monſter. All they that were there, meruailed greatly at the enterpriſe of the knight, and knowing the monſter, they iudged him to be but dead, alowing his hardines that to them ſéemed was too great. One and other ſpake of this matter. Perſeus armed him ioyouſly. When he was armed, he came to Andromeda and kiſſ her, taking leaue of her, and ſayd, fayre mayde, praye ye vnto the goddes for your champion, that for your loue ſubmitteth himſelfe vnto the perill of death, to the ende that by your onely meane I maye come vnto the enioying of loue, and that we togither maye be ioyned in maryage, which I buye at the price of my life. Noble Knight, aunſwered the mayde, I am more beholding to you then to all my kinſmen and fréendes. Knowe ye, that if my prayers may obtayne of the goddes, ye ſhall returne ſafe from this enterpryſe. Then Perſeus wente before the ſtone, and Andromeda knéeled with great humilitie, with both her knées vpon the earth, in calling on her gods to help her champion, and there were many matrones vpon the banke of the Sea, that for compaſſion put them in contemplation, and by this example of them all, the Siriens beganne to pray for the proſperitie of the Knight, excepting onely the king Phineus, which prayed for his death. And that for this cauſe, for as much as before the iudgement giuen on Andromeda, hée had fianced and betrothed him to her. So had he wiſhed, that the monſter had deuoured Perſeus. to the ende that the mariage of him and of her might haue béene ended. What ſhall I ſay more? When Perſeus had ſo put himſelfe foorth by the ſtone, he looked towarde the ſea, and helde in his hande a good and paſſing ſtrong ſworde, and he had not long behelde the ſituation, and taken leaſure to ſée the place, when there ſprang out of a ſwalow or depth of the ſea, a monſter ſo great and ſo horrible, and ſo dreadfull, that it ſéemed that he had béene made for to deſtroy all the worlde: hee was rough and went on foure féete like a beaſt, and his forme was ſo diſfigured, that none wiſt whereto he might be likened.

When then the Syriens ſawe him put his head out of the déepe, there was none ſo well aſſured, but he trembled for feare. And many were ſo afrayed, that they fled into their houſes, and reentred into their Citie. This notwithſtanding, Perſeus as ſoone as he ſawe him riſe vp, he came to him as hardie and right well aſſured, and ſmote him with the poynt of his ſworde, ſo full vpon the right eye, that on that ſide he made him blinde, whereof the monſter felt ſo great paine, that he came out of the Sea with open mouth, and thought to haue ſwallowed Perſeus. And Perſeus went backe a little, and put his ſworde betwéene his iawes into his throate, ſo farre foorth, that he could not draw it out againe, and ſo of force it abode in his throate more then foure foote.

At the ſecond ſtroke the monſter made a maruaſlous crie, lifting vp his head, and wéening to haue caſt out the péece of the ſworde which abode in his throate, but it would not bée. Alwaye the monſter aſſayled Perſeus and wéend to haue ſwalowed him into his throate: and Perſeus alwaye ſtroke at him with his ſword, and put him at defence, and ſmote alway at his throte, and about nigh his other eye, and ſo well intended the worke, that after he had giuen him many woundes he made him blynde on the left eye, like as hée did on the right eye. And then as the monſter went héere and there, and made many walkes without ſéeing or knowing where he went, purſuing his enemy, Perſeus gaue him manye woundes, ſearching his heart, and at the laſt he founde it. And finallye he beſtirred him ſo that he pearſed the heart, with which ſtroke he made him to fall downe dead.

CHAP. XXXVI. ¶How Phineus would haue had Andromeda: and how Perſeus anſwered him that ſhe ſhould be his wife.

PAſſing ioyous and aſtonied were the Syryens when they ſawe the good fortun of Perſeus, and ſayd one to an other, that ſuch a knight ought to be prayſed aboue al other men. The king Amon tooke great pleaſure to ſée his dealing: & ſéeing the monſter labouring in his death, hée went downe to him, embracing him and ſaid. Sir, the gods gouerne thy fortune, and ſince they haue receyued thée in their fauour and grace, there is none that may anoy thée: in a good houre were thou héere arriued: demaunde what thou wilt, and I will cauſe thée to haue it. Syr, aunſwered Perſeus, I haue preſerued from death the Damoſel: I deſire none other thing but her. O valiant Knight, ſayde Phineus, that was there awaighting, thou dooſt much gloryfye thy ſelfe, for thou haſt gotten in a halfe day more honor, then an other knight ſhal get in an hundred yeare. And greatly thou oughteſt to be commended. But beware that the beautie of this mayd deceiue thée not: know thou that I haue betrothed her, and by right ſhe ought to be my wife. Many dayes bee gon and expyred ſince, that in the preſence of our biſhop we promiſed to take each other in mariage. This miſfortune is after come to her, thou haſte reléeued her, and wouldſt therefore haue her. The beginning is fayre, but the ende is foule. And if it ſo happe that thou do me wrong, I let thée know that I will not ſuffer it: for in this coūtrey I am a King, & haue great puiſſance: al the glory that thou haſt gotten, ſhalbe héere quenched. Wherefore I praye thée, that thou forbeare in this caſe: and that thou ſuffer me to take that is mine, and take thou that that belongeth to thée.

During theſe wordes, Perſeus looked towardes the Sea, and ſaw from farre his galyes comming the one after the other directing them towarde this porte. Whereof he hadde right great ioy, and ſayde vnto Phyneus. King I make no doubt that thy power is great in this countrey, but knowe thou right well that I knowe no man liuing that ſhall cauſe me to leaue that belongeth to me. When I came hither I found this mayde condemned vnto death. At that time ſhée was all abandoned to the death. I haue ſaued her: and I ſaye to thée that ſhée is mine, and thou oughteſt to haue no regard to any promiſe that ſhe hath made to thée, or to any other. And ſo I haue intention that ſhe ſhalbe my wife. And if thou wilt Combate and fight for her, aſſemble thy power, and make thée ready in thy battaile. Lo héere come my galies readye for to receiue thée: and although I haue not people ynough, yet I haue in my cofers the moſt parte of the treaſors of Meduſa, for to ſend for men of armes in al places where I may get them.

When Phineus conſidered this anſwer, and knew that hée was the Knight that hadde vanquiſhed Meduſa, whereof the renoume was greate and ran through out the whole worlde, hée coulde none otherwiſe aunſwere to Perſeus, but that hee might do his pleaſure. All the kinſmen of Andromeda were angrie with Phineus for his follie, and made him ſo aſhamed, that he departed thence, and went into the Citie. After they went to beholde the monſter, and then came ſayling and rowing the Apuliens vnto the port, and being come, they brought Perſeus and Andromeda into Ioppe with great triumph: and yet that more is, Perſeus and Andromeda eſpouſed each other that ſame day, and lay togither. And the ſolemnitie of theyr wedding endured fiftéene dayes. During this time, the Syriens came to the port dayly, for to ſée and behold this monſter. Plinius rehearſeth, that of this monſter was borne to Rome a bone of fortie foote long, ſo great as an Oliphant. Let them then that read this hyſtorie, ſearch how great and huge this monſter was, when onely one of his bones was ſo great. The Romanes for a great maruaile haue and kéepe that bone. What ſhall I ſay more? At the ende and expiration of this feaſt of the wedding of Perſeus and Andromeda, Perſeus took leaue of the Syriens, and furniſhed his Gallies with vittailes, and departed from Ioppe, and went to the ſea, leading with him his wife Andromeda. And fortune was to him ſo good, that in a little time he paſſed the ſeas of Syrie, and came to lande at the port and hauen of Thebes. Where he was receyued courteouſly of King Creon, that then reigned a yong childe.

CHAP. XXXVII. ¶Howe Perſeus reeſtabliſhed in his Realme the king Acriſius: and how he ſlue the King by euill aduenture.

IN Thebes there refreſhed them theſe Apuliens, and made alliance with the king, after they departed from thence, and tooke their way by land toward Argos, vnder and by the conduct of Bellerephon, that then was whole, & healed of his foote, who knew wel the country. When Bellerophon had guided them ſo nigh Argos, that in an houre they might runne before the gates, he ſignified it vnto Perſeus, and then Perſeus made his hoſt to tarrie in a Valley, and ſent Danaus vnto the King Pricus, to ſummon him that hee ſhould yéelde the Realme vnto the King Acriſius. Danaus went to Argos, and accompliſhed the ſummons. The king Pricus anſwered to him, that he was king, and that he woulde holde that hée helde: and menaced Perſeus vnto the death, if he departed not the Countrey haſtily. Danaus returned vnto the hoſt of Perſeus with this aunſwere, and made to him the report. Perſeus then hoped that king Pricus would come to him, and giue him battaile, and had thereof right great ioy and pleaſure: for hee deſired nothing in the world more, then to bée in armes: and for to be the better able to withſtand his fo, he ordayned that night, that he would depart his battaile in thrée: whereof hee gaue charge of the firſt battaile to Bellerophon, which require and deſired of him the • award with right great inſtance: and he himſelfe held the ſecond battaile. And to Danaus he betooke the third: and thus when he began to ſet forth Bellerophon on his way, he had not far gone, when he ſaw from far the king Pricus, that knew of theyr coming by his eſpyes, and had ſet his battaile in good order.

Bellerophō had with him but two thouſand fighting men. When the king Pricus ſawe him come with ſo little a company, he ſuppoſed that it had bin Perſeus, and thought to haue had all woon before hand by aduantage, and made his people to ſet againſt them, by which within ſhort ſpace began a cruell and hard battaile. And of this battaile was Pricus right ioyous at the aſſembly, and well imployed his armes and his ſword, and did meruails, but at that time he ſuppoſed by force to haue abidden victoryous and conqueror of his enimies, he caſte his eyes toward Thebes, and ſawe Perſeus and his battaile, that diſcouered and ſhewed himſelfe: wherein his fortune was ſuch, that in the beholding the head of Meduſa, which he bare painted in his ſheelde of criſtall, he and all his folke, in a momente, were turned all into ſtones. That is to ſaye, that he and all his meanie hadde loſt their ſtrengthes and courages, and that they might no more lifte theyr ſwordes then might the ſtatues or images. And that Prycus fled, and all they that coulde, fled ſome into the cittie, and ſome into the fieldes at all aduenture. Perſeus daigned not to followe the chaſe, becauſe of theyr poore caſe. And thus Prycus eſcaped the death, and abandoned and gaue ouer the country, and went with them that fled into Calidonie, where he was afterward put to death by Hercules. And Perſeus went into the citie of Argos, whereof the gates were open and without any men that made any defence. When he was in the citie, he made an edict charging vpon paine of death, that none be ſo hardy to vſe any force nor violence there. After that he ſente to ſéeke his grandfather Acriſius, and told him who he was, and ſo deliuered to him again his citie and his realme.

Of this curteſie Acriſius held himſelfe greatly beholden vnto Perſeus, and aſked him, & enquired of his daughter Danae, and of theyr aduentures. Perſeus tolde him all that he knewe; and then Acriſius was right ſore diſpleaſante at that hard vſage that he had doone: and for to amende all, hée adopted Perſeus to his ſonne, and gaue him the full power to gouerne the citie, and himſelfe with drewe him into the towre of Dardane and then ſent againe vnto Naples, Dardanus his brother, with whome went Bellerophon: and hee gaue vnto them and to their companye, great treaſors at theyr departing. Perſeus ſente manye Arigiens into Licie? and made them to inhabite the countrey. And thus abode Perſeus in Argos with his wife Andromeda, of whome hée gat many children, That is to wéete, Sthelenus, Blache Demon, Erictreus and Gorgophon, which all became men, and tooke wiues, yet reigning the King Acriſius. And among all other Gorgophon, had one wife, of whome hée hadde two ſonnes Alceus, and Electrion, Alceus engendred Amphitrion, and Electrion, engendred Alcumena, of whome came Hercules. What ſhall I make long proceſſe of the factes and of the generations of this Perſeus. He gouerned paſſing well the realme, and loued much the King Acriſius: But there fell an hard fortune vnto him in the ende, for as he went on a night alone vnto the towre of Dardane to viſit the king, the garders and kéepers of the Tower knewe him not, and fell vpon him and hurte him. When he felte him ſmitten hée put himſelfe to defence. The noyſe waxed great, the king heard the noiſe, he came running downe for to parte the fray, thruſted into the preaſe, in ſuche wiſe that Perſeus knewe him not, and with his ſword hee ſo ſmote him, that he ſlew him and all the people with him: and anon after, when he came in, and founde him dead, he remembred and thought he hadde put him to death after the prognoſtication of the goddes, and made great ſorrowe, and did ordeyne his obſequie right ſolemnlye. And at this obſequy happened for to be there, Iupiter and his ſonne Vulcan, which at that time practyſed togither the ſcience of magike and nigromancye. &c.

At this tyme Vulcan forged and wrought the thunders vnto Iupiter. That is to ſay, that he buſied himſelfe with ſmiting and troubling by fire and ſworde, the Realmes of his neighbours, and the Poetes ſay and make many fables of him, whereof néedeth to make no mention at this time. Perſeus then did great honour and worſhip vnto his father Iupiter, and in likewiſe did Iupiter vnto Perſeus. And each told other, and rehearſed their aduentures. But when the obſequie was done of King Acriſius, and Iupiter beheld and ſawe Perſeus ſo heauie that he could haue no ioy, he returned into Crete vnto his wife Iuno, and there he exerciſed himſelfe in the ſcience of Magicke. And then when Perſeus found himſelfe alone in Argos, and ſaw that he might recouer there no ioy, he departed from thence, and went vnto the citie of Miſene, but he raigned there not long, foraſmuch as the death of Acriſius renued alway, and he could not put it out of his minde, and ſo he departed thence, and withdrewe him with a great hoſt into the Orient, where he gat and conquered by armes, a great Countrey, which he named Perſia, after his name, and there founded the Citie called Perſepolis, after that he had vanquiſhed and put to death Liberpater, which made him warre. And then when he had ſo done, he purueied for his children in ſuch wiſe, that his two ſonnes, Alceus and Electrion, with Amphitrion and Alcumena, dwelled in Thebes, and Brachman reigned in Perſia, Erictreus vpon the red ſea, and Stelenus in Miſene. But to ſpeake of them all I will ceaſe at this time, and wil tell onely of Amphitrion, and Alcumena, that loued ſo well togither, that they tooke day the one to wed the other. And the cauſe that mooued me to write of theſe two, is foraſmuch as of Alcumena came Hercules, who firſt deſtroyed Troy, &c.

CHAP. XXXVIII. ¶How Iupiter lay with Alcumena: and how Queene Iuno ſent two ſerpentes for to ſlea Hercules: and how Hercules ſtrangled the two ſerpents.

IN this time when Iupiter came againe into Crete, and that he with Vulcan his ſonne and Iuno practiſed by theyr ſtudye, the ſcyence of Magike: after that, that Vulcan had forged the thunders of Iupiter, Amphitrion wedded the fayre Alcumena, in the Cittie of Thebes, with great honour, and alſo with great companye of Kings, Quéenes and of Ladyes. The feaſt of this wedding was great. Iupiter the King of Crete, and the Quéene Iuno were there. During the feaſt, Iupiter continually behelde Alcumena, for her great beautie (for Alcumena was the moſt fayre woman that euer was ſéene) all his delight, and all his buſie care was in the beholding the ladyes. He deſired nothing but for to bée alwaye among the ladyes, and alway had the eye vpon them. But in the ende he behelde Alcumena moſt in eſpeciall, in whome he had a ſingular pleaſure. In the great aboundance of his ſight, he ſo ſore fixed his eye on her excellencie, that his heart beganne to be troubled, in ſuch wiſe that he was amorous and couetous of her loue. In this his ſo greedye couetouſnes and deſiring, he let paſſe the ſolemnitie of the wedding, and returned into Crete: but he had not long ſoiourned when the ſayde couetouſnes ſo wrought vehemently in him, that on a day he began to ſpeake of Alcumena, in the preſence of Iuno. And ſayd vnto Ganimedes his Eſquire: Ganimedes, what ſéemeth you of the beautie of Alcumena? Syr, ſayd the Eſquire, me thinketh, ſhe ſhineth in all manner excellencie of a Lady, and for that to compriſe all her vertues, there is no king ſo great, but that he might well ſéeme to be of allyance with one that is of leſſe beautie then ſhe is.

When the Quéene Iuno vnderſtoode that Iupiter talked ſo much of Alcumena, at that ſame time ſhe was ſore mooued with new ielouſie: For ſhe had often times béene ielous of Iupiter, and thought in her ſelfe, that if ſhe might, ſhe would cauſe to flie and put to death Alcumena. After theſe ſpéeches, Iupiter found himſelfe ſore intangled and ouercome with loue, and for to ouermaiſter it, and to let it paſſe, hee tooke his bow and arrowes, in purpoſe to go to the wood for to ſlea ſome wilde beaſt. And went forth accompanied onely with Ganimedes, but as ſoone as hee was iſſued out of the gate, there came and met him one of the knights of Thebes, and did reuerence vnto the king, and ſayde vnto him, that the king Creon of Thebes ſent him vnto him, and required him that he would aide and helpe him to warre againſt the king of Thelipoly, that had treſpaſſed againſt him. When the king Iupiter had heard the meſſage of the king, he was right ioyous of the requeſt of the king of Thebes, and tooke the knight by the hand, and brought him to his pallace, and there feaſted him, and made him right good chéere, and after he ſaide, that with right good heart and will, he would ſuccour and helpe the king Creon in his warre. The knight of Thebes with this anſwer tooke leaue of king Iupiter, & returned vnto Thebes. Where preparation and ordinance was made to go vnto Thelipoly. It was not long after that the King Iupiter made his armie, and haſted him as much as hée might, that ſhortly ſhe might come to the houſe of Thebes, where hée hoped to finde Alcumena. When all thing was ready he tooke his way, and ſped him in his iourney, that he came to Thebes, where he was right honourably and worthily receiued of the King, the Quéene, and of the ladye. The king Iupiter at his comming forgat not to looke, if he might ſée Alcumena: but hee ſawe her not, wherefore hée was in great gréefe, and wiſt not what to do. And he looked after Amphitrion, but he could no where ſée him, whereat he was more abaſhed then he was before. In this abaſhement he approched to King Creon, and demaunded of him, where Amphitrion was? The King Creon, anſwered him, that he woulde ſhortlye come, and that he aſſembled his men of armes at the Caſtle of Arciancie, which he hadde giuen him. This Caſtle ſtoode betweene Thebes and Athens vpon the riuer, and was a paſſing fayre place and ſtrong. Anon as Iupiter had vnderſtoode, that king Creon had giuen Arciancie to Amphitrion, he imagined ſoone that Alcumena was in that place. and was in will to haue gon to that place if it had not béen that he dreaded the talking of the people, and alſo he feared to make Amphitrion ielous. This conſidered, the king Iupiter abode in Thebes not well pleaſed, for aſmuch as hée might not ſée Alcumena, and paſſed there that time the beſt wiſe he coulde, till Amphitrion & other were come. Then they departed from Thebes from the king Creon, and went for to laye ſiege to the citie of Thellipolye, accompanied with the king Iupiter, and many other. During the ſiege, they of the citie aſſayled oft time by battayle againe their enemies, but they of Thebes had alwaye ſo good fortune, that in the ende they of Thellipolye yéelded them in all poyntes to the will of king Creon: and thus when the king of Thebes had ouercome and ſubdued the citie, he returned vnto his countrey with great ioy. &c.

When Amphitrion ſawe that their enimies were ouercome, and that there was no more perill, he had great deſire to go ſée his wife Alcumena: and for to haſt him the more ſooner to bee with her, he departed from the hoſte, with leaue of the king, accompanyed with an Eſquire onely. When king Iupiter ſawe Amphitrion ſo departe vpon his waye, he began to thinke and aduiſe him of a great ſubtilty, for to come to his intent. And he departed from the hoſte with Ganimedes onely: and as ſoone as hée was in the fielde on the waye they two being togither, Iupiter entred into conference with Ganimedes, and ſayd to him: Ganimedes, I haue great affiance in you, and more then in any man that liueth, wherefore I will tell you priuily a thing ſecrete, which I ſhall accompliſh as I hope: And ye muſt holde and kéepe it ſecret. Truth it is that I am amorous terribly of dame Alcumena. By no meane in the world I maye yet forget her, nor put her from my deſire. She knoweth not the payne that for her loue aboundeth in me, for I neuer was ſo hardie to diſcouer to her my caſe, nor neuer durſt ſhewe it to her, for as much as I knowe her wiſe, chaſte and vertuous. This conſidered, thinking on this thing, I féele and finde me full of troubles, and confeſſe my follye, for I am in a manner in diſpayre nowe: inaſmuch as I had ſuppoſed to haue founde the like anſwere of loue in Alcumena. But the ſodaine departing of Amphitrion yet giueth me in a maner an hope, for at the time that I ſawe him departe from the hoſte, for to go ſée his wife accompanyed with his Eſquire, I imagined that in all haſte I would go vnto Arciancie, by a more néere and ſhorter waye: For I know the paſſage long ſince, and that I would tranſfigure my ſelfe into the forme of Amphitrion, and you into the forme of his Eſquire, for to go vnto Alcumena, and to make her vnderſtande that I were Amphitrion. Ganimedes, vpon this intention and purpoſe, I am come on the way, to go thither with you, we muſt néedes win vpon Amphitrion this waye a night and daye, and therefore lette vs go now merylye. Mée thinketh that loue ſhall helpe me, and when Alcumena ſhall ſée me tranſformed into the ſhape of Amphitriō, and you as his Eſquire, ſhée ſhal not be ſo wiſe to perceiue mine enchauntment.

Ganimedes hearkened right diligently to the wil and purpoſe of Iupiter, and promiſed that he wold imploy him in this affaire as much as in him was poſſible, and ſo they rode with good will and great deſire the readieſt way, and in riding and going, Iupiter went about his enchauntments, and ſped him ſo, that he arriued in an euening at the Caſtell of Arciancie. When he was there arriued, he tranſfigured himſelfe, and Ganimedes, in ſuch wiſe as he had before purpoſed, and then at the ſame houre that Alcumena ſlept, and that each man was a bed, they came to the Caſtell, and ſo knocked at the gate, that they awooke the porter. The porter came to the windowe, and looked downe beneath, and ſawe Iupiter and Ganimedes by the moon light, him thought and ſéemed that it was Amphitrion, and his eſquire, wherfore he opened the gate, and receyued him, in ſuch wiſe as he would haue done his Lord Amphitrion. After he brought him vnto the doore of the chamber wher Alcumena ſlept, and awooke her, ſaying that her lord was come. After he returned to kéepe the gate, by commaundement of Iupiter, and Alcumena opened her Chamber vnto Iupiter, which entered in with great ioy, and at the entrie into this chamber, Iupiter and Alcumena tooke each other in armes, and kiſſed, Alcumena thinking that it had béen Amphrition: and when they were ſo beclipt eache in others armes, Alcumena demaunded him from whence he came? Iupiter anſwered and ſayde, he came from Thellepolys: and that after the giuing ouer of the towne, & yéelding of their enemies, he departed from the hoſt, for the loue of her, accompanied onely with his eſquier, to come haſtily to her. Then Alcumena was wel content at the wordes of Iupiter, and aſked him, if hee would eate or drinke? Iupiter anſwered, that he would nothing, but go to bed with her. What ſhall I ſay more? hee lay with her, and had that he deſired: the King Iupiter had neuer ſo great ioy in himſelfe. And going to bedward, he had Ganimedes, that he ſhould go to the Chamber doore, and abide there without. And ſo Ganimedes departed from the Chamber, and Iupiter approched to Alcumena, with great loue, and ſo cōplaiſed her in loue as much as his power might extend. In this wiſe, and by this faſhion, came Iupiter vnto the ſecrets and ioy of loue, ſo that to acquaynt himſelfe with this lady, him ſéemed expedient for to enchant all them that dwell in the place. And then he ſlept with Alcumena, and after he aroſe, and came to Ganimedes which kept the watch at the doore, and tolde him, that for to do this matter ſecretly he muſt enchant all them of that place, in ſuch wiſe that they ſhould not awake vntill the comming of Amphitrion. And he willed that he ſhould go to the gate, to waite if Amphitrion came. And if it happen (he ſaid) that he came by the day light, I ſhall deliuer to you a powder that ye ſhall caſt in the ayre agaynſt him, and this powder hath ſuch vertue, that it ſhall kéepe Amphitrion from approching this place as long as the day endureth. And then when it is night, and he knocke at the gate, ye ſhall come to me, and wee will open the gate, and bring him to his wife, and after that we will returne from hence,

The King Iupiter, with theſe wordes wrought in his ſcience, and made his charmes and ſorceries, in ſuch wiſe, that all they that were in the place might not awake without a remedie agaynſt his inchantment. When hee had ſo done, hee tranſformed Ganimedes, into the likeneſſe of a Porter, and appoynted him to kéepe the gate. After hee returned into the Chamber of Alcumena, and ſhut faſt the windowes that no light might come in. And after he went to bed, and lay with the Ladie, and awooke her, and there ſpent all the reſidue of the night, and all the day following, taking his pleaſure with her, ſo long that he begate on her a right fayre ſonne, conceyued vnder the raigne of the beſt conſtellation of heauen. In the ende when king Iupiter had béene with her a night and a day, about the houre when the Sunne goeth downe into the Weſt, and that him ſéemed that Amphitrion ſhould come, he made by his ſcience Alcumena for to ſléepe. After he roſe vp, and made himſelfe in the form of one of the ſeruants of the place, and he had not long taried after, but Amphitrion and his eſquire came knocking at the gate, for it was then night. When Ganimedes heard him knocke, he came to the gate, and opened it. Amphitrion wéend that it had béen his porter: ſo he ſaluted him, and demaunded him where his wife was? The valiant porter ſaid to him, that ſhe ſlept, and ſo brought him into her chamber: and Iupiter ſo going, charmed him that he had no deſire to eate, nor to drinke. When he was come into the Chamber, he awooke Alcumena, that was all abaſhed when ſhe ſawe Amphitrion, for ſhe ſuppoſed for truth, that ſhée had ſéene him a good while before, and ſhe groped about her in the bed, and thought ſhe had dreamed. And when ſhée had groped in the bed, and that ſhe found no perſon there, then ſhe was more amazed then afore. Notwithſtanding ſhe aroſe, and came to Amphitrion, ſaying to her ſelf that ſhe had ſuppoſed to haue ſéene him before: notwithſtanding ſhee made chéere to her huſband, ſaying to him that ſhée had all the night dreamed of his comming. After they talked of many things. Finally, he went to bed with her, and lay with her that ſame houre, and then Alcumena conceyued yet a ſonne of Amphitrion. Iupiter and Ganimedes departed then from the Caſtell, and there left all ſléeping that were within the place, that none awooke till it was in the morning, and they had weend that they had ſlept but one night, but they ſlept a day and two nights. And this matter was handled ſo ſecretlie, that neuer perſon could eſpie it. By this meane the faire Alcumena conceiued two ſonnes, the one of Iupiter, and the other of Amphitrion.

By ſpace of tyme the fruits of her wombe beganne to appeare: the tydings were borne all about, and alſo into Crete, and came to the eares of King Iupiter, and Quéene Iuno. The King Iupiter this hearing, was paſſing ioyous and glad in the preſence of Quéene Iuno. Hée behelde Ganimedes, and beganne to waxe redde, and after ſhewed a right good countenaunce, and gaue prayſes to the goddes, for the conception of Alcumena, and ſpake much good of her, ſo that the iealouſie of thys olde Quéene, renewed and refreſhed, and ſhée planted in her heart, a right great enu • e, and deadlie hatred agaynſt Alcumena.

With the renewing of this enuie, the Quéene Iuno concluded in her minde that was medled with the multipliance of ieloſie, that ſhée would ſlea and cauſe to die Alcumena by enchauntment of ſorcerie: For in that craft ſhe was an experienced miſtreſſe. O olde curſed woman? Shée held muſing in her heart her curſed ielous thought, and laide her eares to heare Iupiter ſpeake of Alcumena, without any thing replying againe.

But finally, when ſhe knew that the time of childing of Alcumena approched, ſhe departed from Crete ſecretly al alone, and ſaide to Iupiter, and did him to vnderſtand, that ſhée would go diſguiſed on certaine ſecret pilgrimages, and went forth vnto Arciancie, where was a temple ſtanding right nigh the caſtle, and was made in remembrance of the goddeſſe Diana. This olde quéene then entred into this Temple, nothing for deuotion that was in her, but for to eſpie if any perſon came from the caſtle, for to inquire the ſtate of Alcumena. Shée was diſfigured by her craft. This craft vſed afterward Simon Magus in the time of Saint Peter, and of the Emperour Nero. When ſhe had béene there a little, Galantis that gouerned Alcumena, was there long in oriſons, and prayers before the repreſentation of the goddeſſe. At the end, when ſhe had done, ſhe aroſe from her contemplation, and thought to haue returned. But this old quéene came againſt her, and ſaluted her, and for to come vnto her purpoſe, ſhée ſayd vnto her faintly: dame I am all abaſhed. Wherefore anſwered Galantis? For as much (ſaide ſhee) as I am not in certaine where I am. Loue (ſaide Galantis) ye bee at the Caſtle of Arciancie, for this Temple is of the appertenances of the Caſtle, and ſtandeth betwéene Thebes and Athens. Dame (ſayde the olde Iuno) I trow that this is the place, that Amphitrion and Dame Alcumena dwell in? Ye ſay truth, ſayde Galantis, and howe fare they (ſayde Iuno?) Right well (ſayde Galantis) my Lorde Amphitrion is in good health, and my Ladye Alcumena is readie to bring foorth a childe, ſhée expecteth nor waiteth for longer day nor tearme, and therefore I may no longer tarie: it is time that I returne to her. To the gods I commit you.

Galantis with this word went to Alcumena, which began to trauaile and féele the paine of childing, and the falſe olde queen abode in the temple, in intention to cauſe to die and ſlay Alcumena, in ſuch wiſe as ſhe had purpoſed. Then, in ſtéede of ſaying of oriſons, ſhe began to make certaine fiendly and diueliſh works. This done, ſhe laide her legges to croſſe one ouer the other, and ſate in that wiſe, and then the ſame moment and time that ſhée had ſo doone, Alcumena by the ſtrength of ſorcerie began in the ſame wiſe, her legges to croſſe one ouer the other, and ſate in the ſame maner as the olde Iuno did. In ſuch wiſe, as there was no man nor woman that might make her do otherwiſe. The poore Alcumena felt then the moſt gréeuous and ſharpe paines of the world, for her fruit would come out, and it might not in no wiſe, for as much as her legges and thighs were ſo croſſe one ouer the other: ſhe cried and complained pittiouſly, and was in right gréeuous martirdome. The midwiues coulde finde no remedie: ſhée was thrée dayes holden in this point, alway her legges croſſed one ouer another. During theſe thrée dayes, Galantis and the ladies and women, one after another came to the temple of Diana, for to pray for the deliuerance of Alcumena, and alway they found the old queen ſit with her legges croſſed, and one ouer another. But they found her neuer in one ſemblance and likeneſſe. For at each time ſhe tranſformed her into diuers likeneſſes and figures, of beaſts or of women, to the ende that they ſhould not perceiue her, nor her craft. Neuertheleſſe, ſhe could not ſo tranſforme her ſelfe, but that Galantis that oft came into the temple, tooke héede of her, which found alway there a beaſt or a woman, ſit in the maner that Alcumena ſate in her chamber. Alcumena had béene then thrée dayes in paine. At the fourth day, then Galantis waxed melancholie and angry at that ſhée ſawe in the temple: ſo ſhee aſſembled the women, and ſaid to them. Certainly faire dames, it muſt néedes be that the paine that my lady Alcumena ſuffereth, commeth of ſome ſorcerie and witchcraft, for al the paine that ſhe hath commeth of that, that ſhee may not depart her legs and vnfolde them. This is mine imagination, and I am of aduice to puruey ſoone for it: For I haue ſéene in the Temple, at all times that I haue béene there, more then thrée daies, a woman or a beaſt, with legges croſſed or folden, as my Ladie hath hers: me ſeemeth for truth, that it is ſome euill creature, which willeth euill will to my Ladie, and that by her ſorceryes, conſtraineth her to ſit as ſhe doth. If it be ſo, I will deceiue her: For one of you and I will go into the Temple, fayning right ioyous and glad chéere, and will thanke the goddeſſe Diana, ſaying all on high, that my Lady is deliuered of a faire ſon. And then when that creature that alway is there, and changeth her into diuerſe formes, haue heard our prayſing, if it be ſo that ſhe will any ill to my lady, I doubt not but ſhe ſhall looſe countenance, and that all troubled ſhee ſhall depart, thinking to haue fayled of her enchauntment. And then if it be truth that I ſuppoſe, my ladie may haue ſome maner of deliuerance from her paine. &c.

The women during theſe words, remembred them that they had ſéene in the Temple, the woman and beaſts that Galantis ſpake of, and were of opinion, that Galantis ſhould do like as ſhe had ſuppoſed. Then Galantis and one of the women departed from the chamber, and went to the temple, and entring therein, they ſawe on the one ſide where the falſe old quéen ſate, as ſhe was wont to do, and had tranſformed herſelfe into the guiſe and forme of a Cow. They paſſed foorth by confidently, without making any ſhewe of ſorrow, or other thing, ſaue onely of ioy: and when they were come before the alter, they knéeled downe and ioyned their hands together, and ſayde: Diana, ſoueraigne goddeſſe, thy name bee praiſed in heauen and in earth, for thou haſt giuen this houre to my Ladye Alcumena, and helped her to bring foorth into this world, the moſt, the moſt faireſt childe of the worlde. With theſe words, they roſe vp and returned againe: and as they went, they ſawe the cowe ſuddenly depart out of the Temple, and ran vpon the fields, and in the ſame time and inſtance, Alcumena aroſe, and was deliuered of two fayre ſonnes, before Galantis and her fellow were come into the Chamber.

When Galantis were come vnto Alcumena, and found there two fayre ſonnes which ſhe had brought forth, ſhe was full of ioy, for that ſhe had be guyled and deceyued the falſe olde Iuno. She told then vnto the Ladies, and to Alcumena, howe ſhée had ſéene the Cowe, and howe ſhée was departed from the Temple, and aſſured them that it was ſome euill perſon, and that ſhee had holde Alcumena in this daunger by ſorcerie. The Ladies ſent after to ſéeke the Cowe, but they heard neuer after tydings of her: and greatly alway they ioyed in the natiuitie of theſe two ſonnes. Of theſe twaine, the one of them was great and right fayre, and of excéeding excellencie, and the other was little and feeble. The great childe was the firſt that was borne, and was named Hercules, and the other had to name Ypecleus. Hercules (as ſome ſay) was the ſonne of Iupiter, and well reſembled, and was like vnto him, and Ypecleus was the ſonne of Amphitrion. The tidings of this natiuitie anon ran all about, and all they that heard ſpeake thereof, made ioy and were glad thereof, ſaue only Iuno. For ſhe had neuer ioy in her heart after that ſhe had heard in the temple, that Alcumena was deliuered, and had brought forth a ſonne. She departed from the temple, as is ſaid, in the forme of a Cow, deſpiſing in her heart the goddeſſe Diana, and was ſo troubled that ſhe had neither wit nor vnderſtanding, and thus ſorrowing, when ſhe was a little withdrawne from the Temple, ſhe tooke againe her own forme of a woman, and went vpon the mountaine of Olympus, there ſhe waxed penſiue, and beganne to think what ſhe might do: after ſhe ſmote her ſelf on the breſt with her fiſt, and ſaid: what auayleth me to be borne of the royall blood of Saturne? What auaileth me my patrimonie of the world of golde? what auaileth mee the diademe of Crete? & what auaileth me the ſciences of the world, that I haue learned by great ſtudie and labour, when the gods be againſt and contrarie to mee in all things? The king my huſband careth not for me, nor ſetteth nought by mee, no more in mine olde daies, then he did in my youth. O what deſtiny, Fortune wilt thou neuer turne thy wheele? Shall I alway ſuffer ſtill tribulations and this paine? Certes, ſéeing thou fauoureſt me not, and that I be holde that of all my deſires there is not one that may attaine to effect, all ſhame and vexation redoubleth in me, and I am ſo put in diſpayre, that my miſfortune muſt néedes be cauſe of ſhortning and leſſning the naturall courſe of my dayes. With theſe words ſhe beheld the earth, and not the heauen, & pawſed a while, and after that ſaid: And am I not wel infortunate and borne in an euill houre? My craft and ſorcerie auaileth not againſt myne enemy Alcumena. I haue fayled againſt her, but certes I will prooue my ſelfe againſt her ſonne, to the ende that his mother may be my felow, and hold me company to make ſorrow. For I will ſlea her ſonne: and by this meane, for that ſhe is a woman and a mother, I ſhall giue her cauſe of anger, gréefe, and diſpleaſance.

O curſed olde Vyrago, conſpyring then againſt the poore innocent: then ſhée imagined that ſhe would take two ſerpents charmed and coniured, to worke the death of the ſon of her enemy, and that ſhée would ſome night put them into his chamber, to the ende that they ſhould ſtrangle him. With this concluſion, ſhee departed from the mountayne, and returned into Crete. There being, ſhe ſo laboured by her ſcience, that ſhee did aſſemble on a day ſecretly, all the ſerpents of the countrey. Shée was alone, and well vnderſtoode, and knewe this marchandiſe. When ſhe had aſſembled them all, ſhee choſe two of the moſt felonous, and moſt enuenimed, and put them in her lap, and bare them home, and after waited a day, when king Iupiter had gone into a farre voyage: and then, fayning that ſhee would go on ſome pilgrimage, ſhe departed alone from Crete, and did ſo much, that in diſguiſed ſhape ſhe came into the Caſtle of Arciancie. The king Egeus of th ens, and the king Euriſtens of Attique were at that time come into the caſtle to make good cheere: and it was in the euening when Iuno entred. When ſhe was within, ſhée made her ſelfe inuiſible by her craft, and ſought all about to find the chamber, wherein was the ſon of Alcumena. She ſought ſo long till ſhe came to the doore of the chamber, where there was a window open. Shée went to the window, and looked in: and in the beholding, ſhée ſaw two nourſes, and two ſonnes, whereof ſhe was all abaſhed, and beganne to muſe much. Thus as ſhée was penſife, Alcumena came for to ſée her ſons, and feaſted them in ſuch faſhion, that the olde Iuno perceiued and knew, that both the two were her ſonnes, whereof ſhe had great ioy. For ſhe concluded in her falſe and euill minde, that ſhe would ſtrangle both two by the Serpents, &c.

Alcumena departed from the chamber, by the ſpace of time, and Iuno let the night waxe darke. The nourſes laide the children in their cradles to ſléepe, and they ſlept. And after they layde themſelues downe and ſlept, leauing a Lampe burning in their Chamber. Then when they were aſléepe, at that time that Iuno would accompliſh her worke, ſhee opened her lap, and made to leape out the two ſerpenis, charmed and enchaunted, to worke the death of the two children, and put them by an hole into the chamber. When they were within, they lifted vp their heads, and ſmelling the two children, made vnto them, giuing the firſt aſſault vnto Ypecleus, in ſuch wiſe that they ſtrangled him, and there murthered him. After the death of Ypecleus, theſe two ſerpents came vnto the cradle of Hercules, that was awake the ſame time. When the Serpents were come to the cradle, they went the one on the one ſide, and the other on the other ſide, and mounted on the Cradle, but this was to their euill eaſe: For as ſoone, as they came vppe, Hercules perceiued them, and was afraied: becauſe they were fierce and dreadfull, he then beſtirred himſelfe, and his armes with ſuch might and force, that he brake the bonds in which he was wrapped and ſwadled, and ſo laboured that hee had his armes and his hands at large, and then when the ſerpents ranne vppon him, hee put them backe by naturall ſtrength and force many times, and fought with them with his fiſts right long: but at laſt, when Hercules ſawe that the ſerpents oppreſſed him more and more, and ceaſſed not to aſſaile him, he tooke in each hand one, making a great crie, and held them ſo faſt and ſore, that he ſtrangled both two.

The nourſes awoke at the crie that Hercules made, and aroſe vp haſtily, and went to the cradles for to ſee their children, and they found Ypecleus dead, and they found that Hercules held yet the two ſerpents in his hands. Sodainly as they ſaw that maruaile, they cried pitiouſly. With that Iuno the falſe witch and ſorcereſſe, that had ſéene all, fled her way ſore troubled and terribly angrie at that, that the ſerpents had not wrought and atchieued her purpoſe, as well in Hercules, as they had done in Ypecleus. And Amphitrion with Alcumena awoke, and came into the chamber where the two nurſes were, which made ſorrowfull and pitious cries: and entring therin, they ſaw Hercules at the one ſide yet holding the Serpents, and at the other ſide they beheld Ypecleus all ſwolen with venim and dead: then déepe and gréeuous ſorrowes came and entred into the bottome of their hearts. Alcumena began to crie and wéepe by naturall pitie, and Amphitrion was al afraide. Many damoſels and other folke came to the chamber, which all were afeard to take away the Serpents, for feare of hurt: and there was none ſo hardy that durſt approch to Hercules, for the ſerpents that he held in his hands which were ſwolen with the venim. Alway Hercules made no heauie nor worſe cheere, but laughed to one and other, and was there in that caſe ſo long, that phiſitions and ſurgions came, and by their ſcience, tooke from his hands theſe venimous beaſts. When Amphitrion ſawe Hercules deliuered from the Serpents, he recomforted Alcumena, that was nigh dead for ſorrow, and made to burne and bury Ypecleus. All they that were there had paſſing great maruaile of the power and ſtrength of Hercules, that was ſo young a childe, and that he had ſoughten againſt the ſerpents, and by exceſſiue ſtrength and might had ſtrangled them.

The night paſſed in the faſhion and manner that I haue rehearſed. On the morrow betime, Amphitrion would ſhew and manifeſt this maruailous and glorious victorie, wherefore he did cauſe to take Hercules, and made him to be borne to Athens, into the temple of the god Mars, with the two ſerpents: and he in perſon went accompanied with King Euriſteus. The falſe olde witch Iuno followed a farre after in a diſſembled forme and ſhape. When Amphitrion was come into the Temple, he ſent for King Egeus, and aſſembled the people, and after tooke Hercules, preſenting him vnto the god Mars, thanking him of the victorie that he had ſent to Hercules againſt the Serpents. After this he lifted him vp, and ſhewed Hercules vnto the people, recounting and telling to them his maruaylous aduenture. And thus when Hercules was ſhewed and put into the common view and ſight of the people, and that euery man gaue him laude and prayſe: the falſe olde Iuno, being in the preaſe, with other, after that ſhe had long beholden the noble childe, that in all his members he reſembled and was like to king Iupiter, for to put Amphitrion in iealouſie of his wife, and for to make him to haue Hercules in ſuſpition, ſhée ſayds vnto them that were about her: Certes, Amphitrion is a verie foole, if he wéeneth and thinketh that Hercules is his Sonne: Beholde the members of King Iupiter, and the members of this Childe, yée ſhall finde no difference. This Childe and Iupiter, bée both of one ſemblaunce, and haue like fauours and ſhape. And euerie man ſayeth, that this Childe is the Sonne of Iupiter, and none other. When this olde Iuno had ſowen theſe curſed words, ſhe withdrew her apart out of the preaſe, and tooke another ſhape, to the end that ſhe ſhould not be known. And then theſe words were ſowne abrode, and told forth of them that heard them in ſuch wiſe, that a great murmuring grew and aroſe touching Amphitrion. And it was reported to him, that men ſaid ſo by aduertiſement of the olde Iuno. When Amphitrion heard theſe new tidings, he beganne to behold the childe, and in the beholding him, thought verily that this childe had wholy the very ſemblance and likeneſſe of king Iupiter. And then began to enter into his heart a right great griefe & ſorrow, and thus after he entred into iealouſie. Yet he kept ſilence, and made as good countenance as he might, and could, for to eſchew the ſlaunder. And anon, after that the people were withdrawne, he called the king Euriſteus, and prayed him, that he would bring vp Hercules, ſaying, that neuer after he would ſée him, and that he beléeued verily that he was the ſonne of Iupiter. Euriſteus comforted Amphitrion the beſt wiſe he could, meaning to haue put this iealouſie out of his minde, but he could not. What ſhall I make long rehearſall? Euriſteus enterpriſed to kéepe and nouriſh Hercules, and made him to be borne into his houſe. Amphitrion returned vnto Arciancie, where he found Alcumena ſore diſcomforted for theſe tydings which ſhée had receyued: and for to excuſe herſelfe to Amphitrion, and the falſe olde Quéene Iuno, ſhée went vnto Crete. Of which matter I will ſtay nowe, and will come to ſpeake of the firſt aduentures of Hercules.

CHAP. XXXIX. ¶How Hercules began the Olimpiades: and how he waxed amorous of Megara, the Daughter of the king of Thebes: and how he ſhewed his ſtrength in all maner of games and exerciſes.

THeſe tidings of this firſt aduenture of Hercules were anon ſpread through all the prouinces of Grece. Some ſaid he was a baſtard and the ſonne of Iupiter: and ſo recounted Plautus in his firſt comedye, and other held that he was the very ſonne of Amphitrion, and ſo recounteth Boccace in his booke of the genealogie of goddes. But whoſe ſonne ſo euer he was, Euriſteus had him in kéeping, and did him to be nouriſhed hardly, and not tenderly, without the cittie of Attique: For the kings and the cittizens and dwellers in townes, in this time, made theyr children for to bee nouriſhed out of good townes, and made them for to lye vpon the bare earth, and naked, for to be more ſtrong, without entring into citties, vntill the time they had power, and ſtrength to exerciſe armes. Lycurgus had ordeyned this lawe and many other that followe. Firſt he ordeyned that the people ſhoulde obey theyr Prince, and that the Prince ſhoulde be firme in iuſtice and liue ſoberly, and that merchauntes ſhoulde do theyr merchaundiſe, giuing one ware for an other, without anye money, and that each man ſhoulde aduenge him openly, and that a yong man ſhould haue in a yeare but one gowne, and that one man ſhoulde not be more gallant nor quaint then another, and that no man ſhoulde renew the memory of wrong paſſed: and that men of armes ſhould haue no wiues, to the ende that they might be more eager and fierce, in the warre: and to content the fragilitie of men, he ordeyned, that nigh the hoſtes ſhould bee certaine women common, in places called Fornices, whereof commeth fornication. Theſe were the lawes that the Greekes vſed in the tyme of the beginning, and comming vp of Hercules. And for to come againe to my purpoſe: Hercules was nouriſhed in an houſe, that ſtoode in the plaine fields, and was oftentymes put out into the raine and winde, and lay the moſt part of that time vpon the earth, wit • out any other bed: hée lay oftner ſo then vpon hay or dryed ſtraw. With this nouriſhment hée waxed and grew in all beautie, ſtrength, and prudence: he was humble, courteous, and gentle. All good manners beganne to grow and ſhine in him: he was ſober in eating, and in drinking: he ſlept gladly on the fields: he ſhotte and drewe the bow dayly. When the king Egeus of Athens had heard ſpeake of him, he made to be nouriſhed with him his ſonne, that was named Theſeus. Hercules and Theſeus were both of one age, and loued right well togither. Theſeus was ſtrong and mightie, and a fayre childe, and hee had witte inough. But Hercules paſſed him, and ſhone as farre aboue him as the Sunne ſhineth aboue the ſtarres. When he was ſeuen yeares old, he exerciſed wraſtling, and ouerthrewe and caſt the greateſt and the ſtrongeſt that came to him. Not one and one at once, but fiue or ſixe, or as many as hee might ſet his hands on, and did ſo great feates of ſtrength, that out of Thebes, of Athens, and of Atticque, dayly came men, women, and children, for to ſée him. The more and elder he grewe, the more enforced he his ſtrength. When hée was ten yeare olde, there might no man ſtand nor abide in his hand. At thirtéene yeares of his age, he beganne to handle and vſe armes, and of his proper motion, he thought that he would go vp vnto the mount Olympus, and there he would abide and aunſwere all maner men thither comming by the ſpace of fiftéene dayes, and to receyue them in armes, or in wraſtling, or at any other proofe or aſſay of ſtrength: and for to come to the effect of this enterpriſe, he awayted a day when Euriſteus came for to ſée him, and ſayd to him. Sir, yée haue nouriſhed me vnto this tyme, like as I were your owne ſonne, if fortune were to me as contrary as nature, I knowledge that I ſhould be the moſt infortunate childe that euer was borne. Some ſay that I am ſonne to Iupiter, and other ſay of Amphitrion, howbeit I haue no father but you onely, that haue nouriſhed me with your ſubſtaunce. Wherefore I yéelde vnto you as to my father, and aduertiſe you, how that I am purpoſed for to bée on the mount of Olympus, in as ſhort tyme as I well may, and there I will abide all them that thither ſhall come, fiftéene dayes fully togither: and for to deale with them at the ſpeare, at ſwoorde, at wraſtling, and at running: alway foreſéene, that it bée by your licence and leaue, and that it pleaſe you of your courteſſe to giue to him that ſhall do beſt ſome priſe, to the ende for to encourage the hearts of noble men vnto valiancie, that they might attaine to renowme. Euriſteus anſwered and ſayd: Hercules, fayre ſonne, ye can requyre mée of nothing that is honeſt and worſhipfull, but I will hée thereto agreeable. Yée bée young, and yet ye be ſtrong and puiſſaunt, and I wote well there is no man that may endure agaynſt you. Since it is ſo, that yée haue the will ſo to do, I am right well content, that ye make the proofe, and ſhewe the ſtrength of your youth: and for to effect and bring this enterpriſe vnto your credite, I will aray you as richly as if ye were my proper ſonne. My father (aunſwered Hercules) I thanke you of this grace and kindneſſe, and ſince it is ſo your pleaſure, it behooueth you to chooſe a man of great vnderſtanding and authoritie, that ſhall go vnto all the Realmes of theſe Coaſts, for to ſhewe vnto the Kings, Princes, and Gentlemen, the purpoſe and enterpriſe that I haue taken in hand. Fayre ſonne (ſaid Euriſteus) ye ſay truth, ye ſhall make your letters contayning your intention, and ſend them to me, and then when I haue receyued them, I will vſe ſo good diligence, that ye of reaſon ſhall be content.

After theſe ſpéeches and many other, the king Euriſteus went home, and Hercules tooke inke and parchment, and ſet him to write in letters ye forme of a proclamation, which he made, that contained in this wiſe. Gréeting be to all kings, Princes, Knights, Gentlemen, Ladies and Gentlewomen, from the eſquire vnknowne, and well fortuned. We let you haue knowledge, that the firſt day of the moneth of May next following, the eſquire vnknowne will be on the mount Olympus, for to ſhew himſelfe in habilliments conuenient vnto armes, at the pleaſure of the gods and fortune, and for to receiue all them that be of noble houſes and name, that will and ſhall come thither to trie maiſteries in the maner that followeth. In the beginning of the firſt thrée dayes, hee will hold exerciſe of wraſtling, and he that ſhall do beſt, by the iudgement of the iudges thereto commiſed, ſhall win an Elephant of fine golde. The fourth day he will runne a furlong or more againſt all them that will runne, and hee that beſt runneth ſhall win a faire Courſer. At the fift and ſixt dayes, he will ſhoote with the hand bowe, firſt at the moſt ſtraight and nigh marks, and after at the moſt long marks, & he that ſhooteth moſt ſtraight and nigh at ſhort marks, ſhall winne a gloue of gold: and he that is beſt at long marks, ſhall haue a bow and a ſheafe of arrowes. At the ſeauenth, he will caſt a ſtone againſt all men, and he that doth beſt thereat, ſhall haue a right good diamond. At the eight day, and other folowing to the fiftéenth, he will exerciſe armes: and if any will prooue himſelfe one alone againſt him, he ſhal be receiued (fore ſéene that during the firſt ſix daies he ſhall come and preſent himſelfe vnto the iudges) & he that ſo doth beſt, ſhall haue a rich ſword. And if it happen that they that ſhall come to this feaſt will tourney togither in maner of a battaile, in iouſting with launces or ſpeares, & fighting with ſwords or baryers, the iudges ſhall ordaine captains, ſuch as ſhall ſéeme conuenient, & who that beſt doth in this exerciſe or fight ſhal win a garlād of lawrel. All theſe things before written, the ſaid eſquire vnknowen promiſeth to accompliſh, and prayeth vnto all noble men, Ladies, and Gentlewomen, that they will vouchſafe to come and ſée this méeting of Nobles, which ſhall be performed by the pleaſure of the immortall gods, who wil giue to the acceptors of this worthie chalenge, multipliance of honour and encreaſing of good fortune, &c.

When Hercules had written this proclamation, and engroſſed it, he ſent it to Euriſteus, who read it, and him ſéemed that the inuention of the authour and maker was good and right worthy to bee put in memory, and called one of his knights, and gaue him the charge and office to go publiſh this proclamation in the courts of all the kings of Greece. The knight enterpriſed with right good heart to doe the ſaid office: (and this was the firſt officer of arms that euer was) He went to Athens, Thebes, Argos, Lacedemonia, Archadia, Perelye, Magneſie, Crete, Epheſe, Pepos, Tripoly, and Theſſaly, and all about hee publiſhed the proclamation, without declaring who hee was that ſhould kéepe the exerciſe. They that heard ſpeake of the ſquire vnknowne, and vnderſtoode his high enterpriſe, iudged him, that this came of a noble courage, and that hee might not fayle to gette honour and fame. The knight, for to finiſh this voyage, hadde foure Monethes tearme for to accompliſh it.

During this time, Hercules diſpoſed him for to furniſh his prouiſion for the excerciſes, and ſo did the kings and noble men, for to come thither. What ſhall I make long proceſſe? When the euen before the firſt day of the exerciſe was come, the King Euriſteus brought Hercules vppon the mount Olympus, and from all parts came thither ſo many Noble men, Ladyes, and Gentlewomen, that the number might not bee eſtéemed, the Mount was full on all ſides. All this night there was great adoo, and noyſe of one and other, for to make their tents and lodges of bowes & leaues, and to pitch their pauilions. And it ought not to be forgotten, when the euen was come, how the knight that had publiſhed the challenge, aſſembled in a common tent all the knights that were come thither, and required them in the name and on the behalf of the Eſquire vnknowne, that they would chooſe among them, ſuch as ſhould be iudges, and giue the priſe. When the kings that were there, heard and vnderſtood the requeſt of the noble Eſquire, they thanked him, and they chooſe thrée kings to be their iudges, that is to wéete, the king of Thebes called Creon, the king of Argos named Gorgophon, and the king of Myrmidon, named Eſon, which was father of Iaſon. They were wiſe and diſcréete: they enterpriſed the office with a good will. And that night they paſſed ouer with great ioy, for they aſſembled in a tent, which was made for to daunce in, and the kings with the knights yong and old went togither: and thus beganne the feaſt, which endured till midnight in daunſes and ſongs.

The king Iupiter and Amphitrion were not at this aſſembly, by the counſel of king Euriſteus, which let him haue knowledge ſecretly, that Hercules was he that ſhould holde and kéepe this ſport or exerciſe, for to eſchew all words and languages, that might grow or ariſe vp, by cauſe of the natiuitie of Hercules: for Amphitrion on the one ſide beléeued not that he was his ſonne, and Iupiter on the other ſide ſaid, that he appertained not to him. He ſent them word therefore, that they could do no better, then not for to come to this ſolemnitie, which was a moſt ſpeciall thing, and the moſt ſtrange that euer was ſpoken of before that time. The firſt day of May, at the houre what time the ſunne caſt his heate vpon the earth, Hercules did cauſe to ſownde a trumpet, for to make the Ladies to go vp into the ſcaffolds and places appointed: and anon after they being mounted and ſet, Hercules leapt out of the tent apparelled to wraſtle, and came into the middes of the place or field, making reuerence vnto the iudges, kings, and to the ladies. He was then xiiii. yeare old full accompliſhed. Anon as he had done the reuerence, the knight that was officer of armes, made a crie and ſaid: High & excellent iu • ges, we let you haue knowledge, with all kings, knights, and gentlemen of armes, Ladies and Gentlewomen, that héere is the Squire vnknowne, readie preſent in his perſon, vppon the mount Olympus, and offereth himſelfe to fulfill the contents of his challenge, by order, and after the maner that the particulars thereof make mention. Wherefore, if there be any man that will proue and aſſaie him at wraſtling, let him come, and he ſhall be receiued.

Theſeus of Athens, at the end of this proclamation, and at the commandement of king Egeus his father, entred then into the field: he was a paſſing faire child and a gentle, at his comming he ſaluted Hercules, and ſaid to him: Maiſter of all bodily exerciſes, I am come hither, not of preſumption, but for to learne thoſe things that I haue néede of, and therefore I recommend mee vnto your grace. My Brother Theſeus, anſwered Hercules, I may more learne of you, then you of me: wherefore lette vs indeuour to winne the priſe, it muſt be begunne by ſome bodie. Theſe words accompliſhed, the two noble Eſquires approched and ſeiſed each other. Theſeus employed his puiſſance, and Hercules ſuffered him to doo as much as hée would or could, without ſhewing and putting out his force and might againe to him. And ſo they ſhooke and lugged each other, but in the ende Hercules caſt Theſeus, the moſt ſoftly and fauourably that he could. Wherat the laughter was great among the ladyes and gentlewomen. Theſeus then departed from the place, and went among the ladyes and Gentlewomen, praying them that they would take it in good part that he had done. Then came vnto the place, many yong ſquires of whom I know not the names, and they indeuored and trauelled all that they might for to get honor and worſhip, but their labor profited little vnto them, in regard of getting the priſe: for Hercules caſt and foyled all them that came, and the wraſtling dured foure houres continually. At the laſt, at the requeſt of the Ladies, the Iudges made the wraſtling to ceaſe for that day, becauſe that they ſawe that Hercules was young, and that hee had done a great worke, &c.

When Hercules had vnderſtoode that the Iudges had made ceaſe the wraſtling, he was right ſorrowfull, for in his wraſtling, he had a ſingular pleaſure. The Iudges thē with Euſteus came to him, & made him do on his cloaths, and aray him. After they brought him into the common hal, where as the Ladies were dauncing and ſinging ioyouſly: and it was ſayd to him, that he muſt daunce and ſing like as other did. Hercules excuſed him much, but his excuſe might not auaile. He was ſet on to daunce in hand with Megara, a right faire Gentlewoman, of yong age, but ſhe was right well furniſhed with wit and vnderſtanding: and ſhée was daughter of king Creon.

When Hercules ſaw him in the hand of one ſo noble a Gentlewoman, hee was ſore abaſhed and aſhamed. The Gentlewoman on the other ſide was alſo ſhamefaſt, for as ſoone as ſhe had ſéene Hercules wraſtle, ſhee had ſet all her loue on him. And they wiſt none of them both what to ſay: howbeit, in ſtead of wordes, they vſed priuie and couert countenances. Hercules tooke a ſingular pleaſure to behold and ſée the Gentlewoman, and the more néere the Gentlewoman was to Hercules, the more ſhe ſet her heart on him. What ſhall I ſay? loue in this night enforced and conſtrained them to loue each other, without ſpeaking, and their beauty was cauſe therof. Men ſhuld not haue found in all Grece two ſo faire children, nor of better qualities. They were inough beholden and looked on, and in eſpecially Hercules, for his proweſſe: and euery man maruailed of him, and of his behauiour.

By ſpace of time, then Hercules was brought from the feaſt into his tent. His tent nor the tent of the kings, and of the ladies, were not made but of branches, with leaues and herbes giuing good odour & ſauour. It was not knowne how to make tentes of cloath nor of ſilke then. Hercules paſſed this night, more intending to thinke on the beautie of Megara, then for to ſléepe. The day following, at houre conuenient ſhe came vnto the ſport, and there were many young men ſtrong and actiue, the ſtrongeſt of all Grece, but Herculus with one arme threw and caſt them, and that day and the day following he caſt and flang to the earth mo then thrée hundred, and there could not ſo many come to him but he caſt them downe, and put them to foyle, without any chaſing himſelfe ne greeuing, and at that time he gat a right great glorie and honour there. Megara oftentimes behelde him, and in likewiſe did the ladyes and gentlewomen, and many there were that ſet their loue on him. And thus he paſſed the exerciſe of wreſtling to his worſhip all thrée dayes. At the fourth day he aſſembled all them that were come thither for to run, and he made them that were moſt féeble to ryde vpon the beſt courſers that were in Grece, and after he ſhewed them the furlong or ſtade, and made thē to take their waye and run, and he ran after the horſe and men, but he paſſed all them that ran, and without taking once his breath he ran the furlong, and came thereto before al the ryders, and runners: wherefore he was greatly prayſed, and had a great laude. And ſome ſay, that he ran all as ſwiftlye as a hart. Of this courſe that Hercules made, all the world wondred, and helde it for a merueilous thing, and wrote it in bookes, among other things worthy to be put in memory.

At the fifth and ſixt dayes following, Hercules tooke his bowe and his arowes, and went into the place that was ordeyned for to ſhoote in with the bowe, and the Ladyes and the gentlewomen were there. Hercules and manye other, ſhot at a moſt ſtrait, and neare the marke, but ſhot by ſhot he excéeded al the nigheſt: for he ſhot alway wtin a little ring of gold. And as for ſhooting at a long marke, he paſſed the furtheſt in the fielde foure and twentie ſtrides: his howe was ſo great that it was the load and burthen of a man. No man could bend it but himſelfe. It was a pleaſure to ſée him, for he gat great praiſe and fame the two dayes, and yet gat he more the daye following, which was the ſeuenth daye of the ſports: for when it came to the caſting of the ſtone a farre, one after an other, then he caſt it, imploying his ſtrength in ſuch wiſe that he paſſed ſixe paſes further then anye man that at that time imployed himſelfe in that exerciſe.

Then they that were come to this feaſt cried with a high voice, the Eſquire vnknowne is neither the ſonne of Amphitrion, nor the ſonne of Iupiter, but he is the ſonne of the god of nature, which hath garniſhed him with double force, and redoubled it an hundred folde.: in his infancie he vanquiſhed the ſerpentes, and in hys youth he ſurmounteth in wyt force and valiance all the world. Bleſſed be the wombe that conceiued hym and bare hym, for to glorify Greece: For certes the tyme ſhall come once that he ſhall be the glory of the Greekes, and their tryumphe, and wel ſhal helpe them if they haue néede.

Such were the wordes of the Kings, of the Ladyes, and of the Damoſels, of the nobles and of the valiant, each man prayſed him in his guiſe. The fayre Megara heard gladlye the commendation and prayſing that men gaue him: but yet ſhe ſawe him more gladly doo his feates and valiances, and it is no meruaile though ſhe ſawe him gladlye, and gaue her to beholde him: for in Hercules was, that was not in other: his beautie ſurmounted the meaſure and the great portion and quantitie of his force and ſtrength. What ſhall I laye? After that each man that would caſt the ſtone, hadde doone, he went into the common tente, where manye an amorous man was with his Ladye, and there he began to put himſelfe forth a little, and his ſpeache with one and other well became him: for he had a right high and a cleare vnderſtanding. Megara and Hercules in this euening oftentimes beheld each other ſecretly, & their countenaunces were fixed each on other often, and then of force they chaunged colour. In this chaunging of coloure, there was not a veine in them but was mooued. And by this moouing grew amorous deſires in aboundance, with déepe ſighes, which were nouriſhed in the abiſmes and bottomes of their heartes.

Among al other things, for to ſpéede the matter, the kings and the auncient knightes aſſembled them in councell, for aſmuch as they had manye yong knightes that were come, and had abidden from the beginning of the feaſt, for to do feats of armes againſt Hercules. The puiſſance and ſtrength of Hercules was well conſidered of in this councell: and for aſmuch as it was verye likelye that no man might ſtand againſt him, it was ordeyned that he ſhould do no déedes of armes hand to hand: and that the dayes that were yet to come of the reſidue of the feaſt from two dayes to two dayes, they ſhould turnoy in manner of battaile: whereof ſhould be captaines two Kings that were there, that is to wit Tandarus that was father of Menelaus huſband of the fayre Helene, and Ixion that was King of Theſſaly. Theſe two Kings tooke on them with a good will this charge, and it was ordeyned, that Hercules ſhoulde lette them turnoye vntill the tyme, that the one partie were at worſe, and that then he might helpe that partie ſo ſuffring the worſe, vnto the time that he had brought thē to match their betters. This ordinance was ſhewed in the tent, by the officer of armes. What ſhall I make long counte? they that were afore named for to fight, and to doo deedes of armes man for man againſt Hercules, were right ioyous of the new ordinaunce. The feaſt then ceaſed, and one and other withdrewe them vnto their tents on the morning they came to the fieldes for to begin the firſt turnoy, and there were fiue hundred Eſquires, and three hundred knights, all armed as for to go into battaile, ſauing that their ſwordes were rebetues and not ſharpe, and that theyr ſpeares had rochettes o • trée or of wood. The king Tandarus and the King Ixion was richlye arayed, and well horſed, and armed well with boſſed curets, and ranne in the moſt hardeſt place of this aſſembly. There were no more but an hundred knights on horſeback, for horſes at that time were but little knowne nor vſed. All they on horſebacke and they on foote were parted into two companies. The one of theſe companies, was deliuered to Tandarus, and the other to Ixion. And when Tandarus and Ixion had all that they ought to haue, they that had horſes, at the ſound of the trumpet were readie to iouſt, and ranne one againſt another, ſo couragiouſly, that they troubled all the aire with duſt and pouder that roſe by their horſe feete. At the bickering each met with other oftentimes, and there were ſome ouerthrowne vnder the horſe, and tumbled vpſide downe at ioyning: and ſome there were that brake their ſpears knightly and cheualrouſly, for there were plentie of valiant knights. But in the end, when the knights on horſebacke had done their indeuours, and that they ſet their handes on their ſwords, the pietons or footemen began to renew the turnoye, with ſo great a ſtirre and noyſe, that all the mount redounded, on the one ſide, and on the other: there were many ſpeares broken, and ſhields vniointed, they foyned with their ſpeares eagerly, their ſtrokes and foines were great: each man ſhewed the quantitie of his force, it was ioyous to ſée the ſpeares flie in the aire by péeces: there were great cries, none ſpared other, ancient nor yong. The ancient beate and fought with the yong: the yong men by great courage learned and ſhewed the olde men. When theyr ſpeares were broken they tooke their ſwords, where with began a new adoe, ioyous and pleaſant: they cutting their helmes and hewing on their ſhieldes ſo couragiouſly, and in ſpeciall they of the part of Ixion, that they of the part of king Tandarus, were conſtrained to call for Hercules vnto the reſkew.

When Hercules heard that they cryed after him, hee was paſſing ioyous, for it was a gréefe to him to be idle, and to ſée other labour. He was nigh by the turnoye, beholding them that did beſt: he had alſo his ſword in his fiſt. At the crie that they that were put to the worſe made, he went vnto their ayde and helpe, and began to turney on the ſide where were the greateſt ſtrokes giuen, ſo pleaſantly that it was ioy to beholde. The king Ixion came againſt him for to maintaine his proweſſe, and to holde togither his folke. But certes, for his welcome, Hercules ſmote him on the ſhéeld, in ſuch wiſe, that all aſtonied he bare him to the earth, and downe from his horſe. Then began there a great ſhoute and laughter, & as well one as the other began to apply them to the reſkue of Ixion. Hercules put himſelfe into the preaſe, and made heapes on all ſides, ſo great, that Tandarus and his folke recouered, and entered into the battaile with their counterpartie. At that time began again the turnoy ſtrong and ſharpe: they that right now fled, tooke heart, force and vertue to them againe by the well dooing of Hercules, and recouered vigour and ſtrength. Hercules, of all them that were there was taken héed of, his ſtrokes ſurmounted all other without all meaſure, & he brought againe Tandarus to match his better with little labour. Finally, he did ſhewe ſo great pr • weſſe that day, and in the dayes following, that he was commended aboue all the men of the world. What ſhall I make long proceſſe of the turnoy, and of the pleaſant ſports of this feaſt? There were thrée great turnoyes and notable: at each turnoy, as ſoone as it happened that one party was put backe, and to the worſe, Hercules by his well doing recouered them, and put them vp aboue againe. No man tooke héed but to his glory: euery man ſaid well of him: at daunces, and at feaſts, euery man loued him, euery man worſhipped him: there was no tongue of noble, nor of baſe, but that gaue him laude and praiſe, whereof the concluſion was ſuch, that all the priſes abode with him, and alſo there were giuen to him many gifts of the kings that were there. The dayes of this ſolemnitie drew ouer, & the laſt night, the kings and the ladies, and nobles aſſembled in the common tent, and of one common accord they would that from yeare to yeare they and their heires ſhould hold & renue the feaſt that Hercules had begun and ſtabliſhed, for they ſaw that it was the moſt honourable paſtime that euer was made in Greece, and named the feaſt Olimpiade, becauſe of the mount Olimpus. And they had it ſo recommended, that from thence forth they dated their edicts, and their letters of continuance with ye yeare of the firſt Olimpiade, &c. In ſuch wiſe as wee ſay the yeare of the incarnation. Theſe things ordained, giuen and promiſed, the officer of armes of Hercules, thanked all them that were come to this Olimpiade: after that each tooke leaue of other, and departed on the morrow, and thus finiſhed and ended this feaſt.

CHAP. XL. ¶How Hercules ſayled by the ſea into Heſperie: and how he vanquiſhed the Ile with the muttons or ſheepe, and vanquiſhed Philotes, and ſlew his fellow.

AT the departing, Hercules paſſed not greatly for the withdrawing and departing of all them that were there, ſauing for the departing of Megara: hee knew not the maladie of loue, vntill the time hee ſawe her depart into the countrey. Megara went vnto Thebes, and Hercules drewe him to Athens, right penſife, and thinking much on his Ladie: and ſore deſiring to ſée her, hee went in the companie of Euriſteus vnto Athens, where they feaſted them foure dayes long. At the fourth daye tidings came, that vnto the Port and Hauen were come ſtrange folke by fortune, which were clothed in right pleaſant robes and garments. When the King Euriſteus heard theſe tydings, he ſent anon to fetch theſe ſtrangers to him, and aſked them from whence they were? they anſwered him, that they were of the Weſt, and of the region of Heſperie. Where is the region of Heſperie, ſayd Euriſteus, and what maner Countrey is it? Verily aunſwered one of them, I trowe that in all the worlde is no better Countrey, for there is aboundance of all things that bée neceſſarie to mans life, and I can tell to you, that in the places of our dwelling, and where we haue our haunt, there bée manie Iles lying about the furtheſt partes of Mauree, beyond Ampoleſie, where growe all the beſt things that men can thinke, and there is a king named Philotes, ſonne in lawe to a King named Athlas, which be the generation of Greekes: and it is not to be vnremembred, how that the King Philotes accompanied with the daughters of king Aihlas, found late an Ile right pleaſant, as was his aduenture. This Ile is all plaine without mountaine or valley, it is in ſuch wiſe as is a Garden, all gréene, and there be therein ſo many ſhéepe and muttons, that it is maruaile, which be kept and chéeriſhed there as diligently as if they were of fine Golde. Of theſe muttons that I ſpeake of, wée haue our robes and gownes made: wée and they that may haue them, muſt buy them at a great price of Golde. Wée eate the fleſh, and cloath vs with the ſkins. And know ye for certaine, that into this Ile is but one entrie, and he entreth not therein that would, for the King Philotes and an other Giant which be wiſe, and ſubtill, and maruaylouſly ſtrong, alway kéepe the entrie of the Ile, and alway the one waketh while the other ſléepeth. Certes (ſayd Euriſteus) by that, that I vnderſtoode of you, the Ile that yée ſpeake of, is of great excellencie. This Philotes that yée make mention of: what man is this King Philotes? The ſtraunger aunſwered and ſayde, that he is the moſt redoubted and dread king of the Weſt partes: hée is a Giant that by his force and ſtrength hath conquered the Ile with the ſhéepe, and hath put out them that dwelled and inhabited there before. He is ſo ſtrong, that it is but late ago, that he ſayde, if hée might find a man more ſtrong and puiſſant then he is, hée would neuer after beare armes to fight in battaile, during the life of that other.

The king Egeus then gaue leaue to the ſtrangers to depart from his preſence, and commaunded that no man ſhould let them in their returning toward theyr Countrey, and they went and departed. Euriſteus abode with Egeus, and Euriſteus came to Hercules, and Theſeus, and wiſhed by a great deſire to haue of thoſe muttons, ſaying to them, that he would that it had coſt him as much Golde as a payre of muttons weigh: and that he had a Ramme, and an Ewe, for to ingender in his Countrey. In that time were no ſhéep in Greece. When Hercules had heard the deſire of King Euriſteus, ſodainly he ſayd to him. Sir, ye haue a deſire to haue a payre of muttons, appertayning to the daughters of Athlas, by the conqueſt and armes of the ſtrong Giant Philotes. I promiſe you here for truth, vpon my gentleneſſe, that by this day thrée wéekes, I will depart by water, or by land, for to fetch and get them: and that I will neuer returne into Greece, vntill the time that I haue found the Ile, and that I ſhall oppoſe my ſelfe agaynſt the Giants that kéepe it, and will aſſay if I can get the Ile from them, like as Philotes hath gotten it from other. When the king Euriſteus had vnderſtoode the enterpriſe that Hercules made, he was paſſing ſorie, for he loued Hercules as much as hée had béene his owne ſon. He diſſwaded him from that enterpriſe, wéening to haue broken it: but Hercules aunſwered ſo wiſely, and ſo diſcréetly, that Euriſteus was content to ſuffer him to go vnto this aduenture, and Theſeus with him.

The renowne of this voyage was ſpred anon in all the Countrey. Egeus and Euriſteus made readie for their two ſonnes a right good Gally, and wel furniſhed it with all maner thing. The Galley and all other habiliments were all ready in good time. At the end of thrée wéekes they went to the ſea, and with them right many noble Greekes, & rowed ſo foorth till they came into the déepe Sea, where they ſayled and rowed many dayes, without finding of any aduenture to ſpeake of. For at that time the Sea was but little vſed, neyther of théeues, nor yet of marchants. What ſhall I ſay? their maiſter or pilot, in proceſſe of time brought them to Heſpery, that afterward was named Spaine, and there ſought ſo long the Ile with the ſhéepe, that at laſt they arriued there at the place. The Giant that was appointed to kéepe the entrie, and the ward of the Ile, ſlept not at that time when the Gréekes landed. He then iſſued out of his houſe, and came all armed vnto the ſtrayte paſſage, where might no man go vp but one at once, and he cryed to the Gréekes, ſaying: Sirs, what ſéeke yée here. Hercules aunſwered: we ſéeke the muttons that bée in this Ile, for to carrie ſome of them into Greece. The Giant aunſwered, haue ye money inough? if ye haue ſo, ye ſhall haue inough. Howe (ſayd Hercules) ſhall we not haue them otherwiſe? No, ſayd the Giant. Then ſayd Hercules, at the leaſt let vs haue them at the price that yee haue gotten them for. Howe ſaid the Giant? The King Philotes hath conquered with his ſworde the Ile and the muttons. Hercules anſwered, mine intention is in likewiſe to conquere the Ile from him. If ye will defend it, haſte you: ye ſhal haue the battell againſt me, or elſe let me haue the Ile, that I may do therein in my will.

Anon as the Giant had vnderſtoode the concluſion of Hercules, he made him ready to defend the place, and blewe a great Horne that was there hanging on a tree. At ſownding of the Horne, the daughters of Athlas awaked Philotes, and tolde him that ſome were there to get the place, and that the Giant had blowen the horne. Philotes with thoſe wordes roſe vp, and found that Hercules by force had put backe his Giant, (that excepting Philotes was the moſte ſubtile man of armes in all Heſperie,) he was ſo ſore abaſhed that hée beganne to ſigh and be ſorie: but this notwithſtanding, hée had not long abode there, when Hercules ſmote the giant on the right ſhoulder with ſuch ſtrength and force, that the ſhield of the giant was fallen from him, and his armes all to bruiſed, and his ſword entred ſo farre into his bodie neare vnto his heart, that he ſmote him downe dead at his féete.

When Philotes ſaw his giant dead: he came vnto Hercules, for to defend the place, ſaying, that he would auenge his giant if he might. Hercules had great ioy, when hee ſaw Philotes come to the place, and ſaid to him: king thou art welcome, I haue now ioy in my heart, ſince I ſhall proue my ſelfe againſt thée. Men ſay, there is no ſtroke but of the maiſter: now let vs ſée how we ſhall worke together. Well and happie bee hée, that well ſhall doo and proue himſelfe. Philotes in the hearing of theſe wordes, came vnto the place, and helde a great Polaxe, with which hée ſmote ſore vppon the ſhield of Hercules, and made him to ſtagger a little. Whereat Philotes beganne to laugh, and thought to haue ſmitten againe Hercules with that Polaxe, who was aſhamed of the other ſtroke. And he then kept him well, and waited ſo, that in the ſmiting he caught it, and plucked it out of his fiſts, and caſt it into the ſea. Then was Philotes all abaſhed of the force of Hercules: and when hee had loſt his Poleaxe, hée tooke his ſword, and came for to fight with Hercules. Philotes had the aduantage, for Hercules was vnder him. They aſſayled the one the other right fiercely, and well they kept them both two. All this day they fought without ceaſing, ſo long as the day endured: the night came on that they muſt ceaſe, then they lay there both two vpon the place. They ſlept nothing, for it was no time, both two kept the watch, and they endured it well, for they were accuſtomed for to wake. Thus waking Philotes hadde many words vnto Hercules, and demanded from whence hee was: and Hercules tolde him the truth. After they ſpake of their battaile: and at the deſire and requeſt of Philotes, they promiſed each to other, that if anye of them were vanquiſhed and ouercome, for to ſaue his life, he ſhould be holden to ſerue truly the vanquiſher all his life after, &c.

During theſe ſpéeches and promiſes, the day ſtarre that the Poets call Aurora, began to ariſe in his reigne. The aire was cleare and fayre, the ſtarres ſhone. At this houre Hercules caſt his eyes among the ſtarres, and ſéeing there Aurora ſhine aboue all other, he began to remember his ladie. Megara ſaying. Alas, Madam where be ye now? I would it pleaſed the goddes, that ye remembred as well me, as I remember you. In truth the light of this ſame ſtarre inflameth the amourous fire wherewith I was late ſeiſed by the adminiſtration of your beautie. Ye bee as farre ſhining in beautie aboue the maidens of Greece, as this Aurora ſhineth aboue all the other ſtarres, of whom the number is ſo great that no man can tell. O noble Megara, the right cleare ſtarre, your remembrance illumineth mine heart, like as this ſtarre illumineth the heauen, and mee thinketh that by this remembraunce when I come to the battell, I ſhall preuaile the better. Wherefore I promiſe you, if fortune helpe me, like as I deſire, ye ſhall haue your part of all that I ſhall conquer, &c.

The night drew ouer, and the day began, and at the poynt of the ſunne riſing Hercules was all glad of the thinking and remembrance that he had of his Ladie, and tooke his ſworde, and ſayd to Philotes: we haue pawſed long enough, • o it is day, and the ſunne ryſeth, it is better that we exerciſe déedes of armes now, then when the rayes of the ſunne be greater: let vs take the time ere the great heate come, and let each of vs do his beſt. Philotes that was all readie, was right ioyous when he heard Hercules, for he thought in his minde that he ſhould ſoone and in little ſpace ſpéede this matter, and ſayde to him. Hercules I am readie, and was ſince yeſterday to atchieue this battaile: kéepe you as well as yee can, ye haue ſlaine my Giant the moſt ſtout and hardieſt man that was in all the Weſt, Wherfore I haue great diſpleaſure, but at the leaſt, ſince his death may not be recouered by death of a man, I will doo my beſt and deuoir, to haue a new ſouldiour, and that ſhall be you, or els my ſword and fortune ſhall fayle me. Shall I ſo ſaide Hercules? and if your ſword and fortune ſhall faile you, what tidings? By my gentleneſſe ſayde Philotes, that befell me neuer. And if any ill fortune and miſaduenture run vpon me, that I muſt néedes be your ſeruaunte, let it be vpon condition, yt I ſhall neuer go after into battaile at mine owne aduenture or none other during your life: neither for you, nor for other I ſhall neuer fight, but if it be my ſelfe defendaunt. Without other wordes the two champions aſſayled each other, and ſmote togither ſo ſadlye, and ſore, that the place redounded with their ſtrokes. In a little while they had their ſhields vnfaſtened by great blowes. Philotes did not fayle to ſmite on Hercules: but his ſtrokes were nothing ſo great, but that Hercules might beare them well enough without greefe or ſuffering great damage.

Thus began the battaile againe of the two Giants. Hercules was as high as a giant: he was right fierce in armes, he did much to get the ſtanding, but yet he might neuer attaine to ſmyte Philotes a full ſtroke, for aſmuch as Philotes was aboue on the paſſage, which conteyned well two cubites of height. When Hercules ſawe and knewe that Philotes kept his ſtanding without abaſhing or aduenturing to come downe, he thought ſubtillye that he would fayne himſelfe wearie, and by little and little after he began to ſmite more féeblye then he did before: after that he reculed himſelfe, and ſmote from farre, as if he had fayled and béene wearye. The Greekes were affraid and wéend he might no more: and then Philotes ſprang downe from the ſtanding, wéening to haue put him to the foyle: but then when Hercules ſawe him before him, and that one was no more hygher then an other, Hercules came to his place againe, and gaue ſo great a ſtroke to Philotes, that he made him recule and go backe more then foure foote. Philotes was then all abaſhed, and repented him that hee deſcended from the ſtanding: but that was for nought, for the repenting might not auaile. Then he tooke courage, and enhaunced his ſworde, and ſmote Hercules on the left arme, ſo hard that he gaue him a wound that the bloud ſprang out.

When Hercules ſawe the armes of Philotes beſprinckled with his bloud, he made none other countenaunce, but that he would ſodainly be auenged of the ſtroke. In giuing to Philotes thrée ſtrokes, with the firſt he brake his helme, and ſmote him on the head, and with the ſeconde he gaue him a great wound on the right ſhoulder, and with the third ſtroke, he made his ſword to flie out of his fiſtes: and then he caught him in his armes, and after long wraſtling he caſt him to the earth, in ſuch wiſe that Philotes yéelded him ſeruaunte vnto Hercules, and promyſed him to ſerue him trulye all the reſidue of his lyfe, and that he would beare his armes after him in all places where he ſhould go. Hercules receyued to mercy Philotes. And then called Theſeus and his companye, who came and were right glad and ioyous of the victorye that he had obtained. Then Hercules, Philotes and all the other wente into the yle where they founde the daughters of Athlas greatlye diſcomforted for the death of the giant. And for as much as Hercules hadde alſo conquered Philotes their kéeper, Hercules and Philotes comforted the daughters the beſt wiſe they coulde: and there the Greekes refreſhed themſelues the ſpace of three dayes.

The fourth daye he tooke xxx. rammes and xxx. ewes, and brought them into their ſhip, after that they went to the ſea, without any harme doing in the Ile, for the loue of the gentle women: they departed thence, and went to the ſea, accompanyed with Philotes, which was conquered by Hercules, as is ſayd, and after loued Hercules well and truly & ſerued him euer after. But of theyr iourneys, I will ceaſſe for this time, and will ſpeake of a monſter of the ſea that the goddes ſent to Troy for to deuoure the faire Exione daughter to king Laomedon.

CHAP. XLI. ¶How Hercules fought at the Porte of Troy againſt a monſter, of the ſea, for the daughter of king Laomedon.

IN that time, as Boccace rehearſeth in his genealogie of goodes, in the third chapter of the ſixt booke, Laomedon the King of Troy was buſie to wall and fortifie his cittie with walles and towers, to the end to make it more ſtrong. He was not well furniſhed with treaſures nor wt money. For to accompliſhe his deſire, he went vnto the temple of the gods of the ſunne and of the ſea, that were paſſing rich, and tooke all the money that he could find, promiſing to pay it againe all at a certayne day and time ſet. By the meane of this money, he cloſed and fortified the citie of Troye with walles and towers. The worke was coſtlye, howbeit in litle time he finiſhed it: and it was not long after that the worke was finiſhed, but the day came, in which Laomedon ſhould paye and render vnto the temples of the gods the money that he had taken and borowed, At which day, the préeſtes of the temples came vnto Laomedon and demaunded him, if he would tender the oblations and offrings, that he had taken out of the temple? Laomedon daigned not to ſpeake to the préeſtes, but ſent them word ſhamefully, that they ſhould returne and kéepe their temples. Wherefore he was afterward ſore puniſhed, for in the ſame night after that he would not heare the prieſtes, the great windes began to ryſe and beate the one againſt the other, and cauſed the ſea to riſe in ſuch wiſe that it entred and went into the towne ſo far that it helde the ſtréetes full of water, and drowned a great part of the towne. Beſides this, in eight dayes following, the ſunne ſhone ſo ardently, and gaue ſo great heate, that the people durſt not go into the ayre by day time, and that dried the ſuperfluity of the aboūdance of the water of the ſea that was left: whereof roſe a corrupt and a mortal vapour, that infected all the citie. Whereof engendred ſo great a peſtilence, that the moſt parte of the Troyans were ſmitten to death by the great influence of the corrupt ayre.

By this peſtilence they of Troy fell in great deſolation, the Cittizens men and women, young and olde dyed (without ſpeaking) ſodainlye. The father could not, nor might not helpe his childe in neceſſitie, nor the childe the father. At this time reigned in Troy neither loue nor charitie: for each man that might ſaue himſelfe fled awaye for feare of this mortalitye, and gaue ouer, and left the Cittie, and went to dwell in the fieldes, and among all other, the king Laomedon ſéeing the deſtruction of his realme, went into the Ile of Delphos, vnto the temple of the god Apollo, for to haue the councell of the god, touching the health of his Cittie. With Laomedon went the moſt noble and the moſt puiſſant men of Troye: when they were come into the temple, they put them in contemplation and deuotion before the idol, and the diuell that was therein aunſwered them and ſayd. The money which was taken out of the temples, and not rendred and payde againe, is cauſe of the maladie and vengeaunce of Troye. And I doo all the Troians to wit, that neuer ſhall Troye be quit of this maladye, vnto the time that the ſayd citie prouide to appeaſe the gods, in this wiſe: that it is to wit, that euerye moneth they muſt chooſe one of the virgins and maydens, which muſt bée ſet on the ſea ſide, for to be deuoured by a monſter yt the gods ſhall ſende thither: and the ſayde virgin ſhalbe choſen by lot or aduenture. And in this wiſe muſt the cittie do, for to appeaſe the goddes perpetually vntill the time that they finde one man, that by his armes and by his might ſhall ouercome the ſaid monſter.

After theſe wordes and anſweres, Laomedon and the Troyans aſſembled to counſell vpon this matter, and concluded, that for the common weale and health of Troy, they would put their virgins in that ieopardie and aduenture, to the ſpoyling of the monſter, without any exception or reſeruing. Then they returned vnto Troy, and tooke their virgins, and caſt lots among them: and on her that the lot fell, ſhée was taken and brought to the ſea ſide, and anon after was ſéene to come out of the déepes or ſwallow of the ſea, ſo great a tempeſt, that the ſea roſe and was troubled. The ſea wrought and a right great floud of water lifted vp the monſter by times out of the ſea: hee was as great as a whale or a hulk, and then he tooke the virgin, and ſwalowed her in, and went away againe into the ſea, and from thence forth the peſtilence ceaſed. Thus was Troy deliuered from their ſicknes and maladie by the oblation of their virgins, that were offered vnto the monſter, from moneth to moneth: and thus (as is ſaid) their virgins were deliuered. It hapned in the end of the moneth, that the ſorte or lot fell on one of the daughters of king Laomedon, named Exiona: this daughter was yong and faire, and well beloued of all people. When this lot was fallen on her, ſhée was not onely bewailed and ſorrowed of king Laomedon her father, and of his ſon Pryamus, and her ſiſter Antigona, and of her cofins and allyes: but of al the people, men, women, and children: notwithſtanding, their wéepings, nor the good renoume of her, could not ſaue her, ſhee was put to the diſpoſing of the monſter. The noble virgin was ready to obey the king Laomedon, and brought héereupon to the ſea ſide, accompanied with nobles, ladies, and gentle women, with a great traine of Troyans, citizens, and marchants, all which made ſorrow for her. What ſhall I ſay? at the inſtant that ſhe was thus brought thither, Hercules at aduenture arriued at the port of Troy, with his muttons: and hée willing to refreſh him there, made to caſt his ancres out, and going out, and taking land, he beheld on the one ſide, and ſaw the Troians wéeping and bewailing Exiona, in caſting abroad their armes and wringing their hands, that he had pitie to ſee it. And he deſiring to know what them ailed, put himſelfe into the preaſe, and ſawe there where they bound the faire Exiona in the rout, attired with royall attire, all diſcoloured and ful of teares, as ſhée that expected nothing but the death. Hercules mooued with compaſſion to the damoſell, adreſſed his language vnto king Laomedon, for as much as it ſéemed, that aboue all them that were in the place, hee was a man of authoritie: and demanded him, wherefore that the damoſel was there bound? Laomedon caſt his eies al be wept on him, and was all abaſhed to ſée his greatneſſe, and his beautie▪ neuertheleſſe he anſwered him, what art thou that art ſo hardie to demand me of my miſfortune, which is to all common in Troy? Sir (ſaid Hercules) I am a ſtranger, and I loue the worſhip and honour of Ladies, and there is no thing that I might do for them, but I would do it vnto my power: and for as much as I ſée this Gentlewoman thus intreated, in the fauour of all Ladies, I haue aſked of you the cauſe, and I will know it, or put my ſelfe in aduenture for to die with her. And therefore I demand yet again, what treſpaſſe or ſinne hath ſhee done, that theſe men thus binde her? My ſonne (anſwered Laomedon) I ſée well that ye hée ignorant, and know not the reaſons and the cauſe, wherefore my daughter is here abandoned: there is no man but he may wel know it, for ſhe ſhall die for the ſafetie and health of Troy, and I will tell you how we be come thereto. The gods of the ſea and of the ſunne haue plagued and greeued Troy with a right great peſtilence, that tooke his beginning with a ſuperaboundance of the ſea, whereby the ſtréetes of Troy were full in euerie place of water. After this deluge and flood, the time was maruailouſly and outragiouſly hote, by the great heate of the ſunne, whereby this ſea was dried vp. Of this drineſſe or drouth engendred a vapor infected, and of this vapour inſued a peſtilence. And, for to reſiſt this peſtilence, I haue béen at the oracle of the god Apollo, where I haue had anſwer, for to appeaſe the gods, and to ceaſe the peſtilence, the goddes of the ſunne and of the ſea will, that from moneth to moneth, be taken in Troy, one of the virgins by ſorte or lottte, for to be expoſed and offred, in this place, vnto a monſter of the ſea. The Troyans were content to fulfil the will of the goddes, and I with them. We haue caſt our lottes vpon our virgins, whereof many be ſwalowed, and deuoured by the monſter, and now the ſort or lotte is fallen on my daughter, will ſhe or not, ſhe muſt needes obey, and appeaſe the goodes.

After her ſhall come an other, there is no remedy: and this ſhal endure vpon the virgins of Troy perpetually: for it is the deſteny that Troye ſhall neuer be quite of this right hard ſeruitude and thraldom, vntill the time that they haue found a man that alone ſhall vanquiſh and ouercome the foreſaide monſter, by his puiſſance and proweſſe: which will be impoſſible, for becauſe that it is true, that all the men of the greateſt cittie of the world, can not finde any way to vanquiſh him, he is ſo great and dreadfull. And theſe things conſidered, demaund me no more, my daughter ſhall dye for the common weale of the place of her natiuitie. She was borne in a good houre, when the goddes will, that by lotte, and this fortune ſhe be to them offred. Syr (anſwered Hercules) trulye I thinke vnder heauen is no citie ſo bond and thrall as yours is: howbeit, it ought to be vnderſtoode that the goddes will not ſuffer that this malediction ſhal holde and endure continually. Ye muſt liue in hope. If fortune and the goddes will do me that grace, that I might vanquiſhe and ouercome the monſter, and make Troye frée from this ſeruitude, what reward would ye giue me? Trulye ſayde Laomedon, I thinke not that it be poſſible that ye ſhould vanquiſhe the monſter. Who is he that will expoſe him to ſo great a follye? Hercules anſwered, vnto a valiant hearte is nothing impoſſible. If I tryumphe vpon the monſter, and ſaue thy daughter, what reward ſhall I haue? Laomedon anſwered. If thou mayſt do that thou ſayeſt, I haue two horſes the beſt that be in all the world, which I loue as well as halfe my realme, I will giue them to thée as to the beſt knight of knightes, and as to the moſt hardieſt of hardye. Sir (ſayde Hercules) it is enough to me, and it ſuffiſeth mée to haue the two horſes. Let me alone with your daughter. I haue a truſt and hope that this daye I ſhall labour for the weale of Troy, and that I ſhall fraunchiſe and make free the virgins and maidens of this citie. But I pray you, if there be in your citie any great barre of yron, or of metal, that ye wil ſend for to fetch it to me, for to defend me with all.

The King Laomedon, and the Troyans, were all abaſhed, when they ſawe the enterpriſe that Hercules had made: and at the wordes of Hercules, the King remembred him of a great club of yron that laye at the entrie of his pallace of Ilion, that was ſo heauie, that the ſtrongeſt man of Troye had enough to doo to lay it on his ſhoulder. He ſente for it, and preſented it to Hercules, and Hercules lifted it vp as it had béene a little glayue. Philotes and Theſeus were preſent at all theſe things. Hercules tooke leaue of them, and at the preaſe, and recommended him vnto theyr prayers, and foorth with all the Sea began to rore terribly. Laomedon and the Ladyes, and they that were there tooke leaue of Exione, and of Hercules, and recommended them vnto the mercye of the goddes, and went vpon the downes, for to ſée the ende. Thus abode Exione alone and all diſpayred vpon the grauell with Hercules: who knéeled downe on his knées vpon the grauell, turning his face vnto the Eaſt, and made his prayers vnto the God that made the monſters and terrible beaſtes, requyring him that he would giue him force, ſtrength and vertue of power, for to deliuer Exione from her miſfortune of the monſter, This oryſon accompliſhed, Hercules entred into a little boate, that Exione was in, and anon after, the Sea roring, more and more, grewe and aroſe in ſuch wiſe that the boate floted, and was lifted vp and borne by diuers waues. After this, in great troubling of winde, when the ſea was riſen in great aboundance of waters, Hercules and the Troyans ſaw comming the great horrible and vnmeaſurable monſter, bringing with him a tempeſt ſo terrible, that it ſéemed that all the monſters of hell had béene with him. He made the waues to redouble h • deouſly, he lift him vp aboue the water, and put out his moſell vnto his ſhoulders, ſo that by the ſwallowing of the water, ſprang out of his mouth great flouds of the ſea, and mounted ſo high, that it ſéemed that it had béene a gulte that had pearſed the cloudes. For to ſay the very truth of this monſter, he was ſo horrible and fearefull, that onely for to looke and behold it, the moſt hardie and reſolute of Troy, trembled for feare as a leafe on a trée. This notwithſtanding, Hercules was nothing afearde, but alway he comfor- Exiona, that fell downe as dead. Hee tooke his club, the monſter came by the boate, and caſt his moſell vnto Exiona, wéening to haue ſwallowed her in, as he had done the other virgins afore. Hercules kept her, for he ſmote him ſo vehemently vppon the moſell, that hee gaue him a right great wound, ſo ſore and heauie to beare, that hee made him to go backe and recule into the bottome of the ſea. Then in the falling of the monſter into the ſea, the waues aroſe high into the aire, whereby Hercules and Exiona were all wet with the waſhing and ſprinckling of the waues: & their boat was borne with the waues vpon a bancke of ſand, where the ſea was ſo low, that the monſter might not well ſwim with his eaſe vnto them. The monſter alway ſwam after them, and comming nigh to them lifted vp his head, and in the lifting vp, there iſſued out of his throate ſo great aboundance of the water of the ſea, that the boate was full of water and ſunke, in ſuch wiſe that Hercules was in the ſea vnto the great of his thighs, and Exiona ſtoode in the water vnto the middle.

Anone as Hercules ſaw him in this caſe, he had great diſpleaſure in himſelfe, more for the paine and gréefe that Exione had, then for the dread that he himſelfe had. The king Laomedon, Theſeus, and Philotes, and all other, ſuppoſed then that Hercules and the damoſell, without redemption had béene deuoured of the monſter. The monſter then ſéeking his pray, leapt agaynſt Exione, with a terrible waue. Hercules had his club readie on his necke, and awayted nothing but the monſter, deſiring to auenge him of the diſpleaſure that he had, and that he would haue done to him: he then diſcharged his club on his head ſo mightily, that the barre entred therein, and the blood ſprang out. Then was the monſter more wood vpon Hercules: ſo he ceaſed the aſſault of the damoſel, and aſſailed Hercules, and alway as hée lifted his head out of the water, he diſgorged vpon the valiant champion great floods of the ſea. But this notwithſtanding, he could not do ſo much harme vnto Hercules, but that Hercules did much worſe to him. Hercules folowed him with his club, and made him to ſinke againe into the bottome of the ſea, by the huge weight of his ſtrokes.

The battell endured long betwéene Hercules and the monſter. If the monſter might once haue touched Hercules, he would at one mouthfull haue deuoured or ſwallowed him in. He had a wide and a great throte, out of meaſure: he made a great noyſe and cry: he was fierce in exerciſing his fury. But Hercules fought with him boyſtrouſly, and held the virgine by him: and for what thing that euer the monſter did, he could not ſo ſuddenly lift vp his head out of the water, but that with one ſtroke of his club he was driuen backe alway vnto the bottome of the ſea. What ſhall I ſay? Hercules was oft tymes in perill for to be drowned. The perill was great, and more then I can rehearſe. Fortune was with him and the damoſell, ſo that he fought and beate the monſter valiantly, and ſo endeuoured in ſmiting continually on his mozell and on his head, that the ſea withdrew, and tooke from him the ſpirite of life, and then he all to bruſed his braine, and ſo vanquiſhed him, and ſlue him. And after when the Sea was withdrawne and farre ebbed, hée tooke Exiona by the hand, and brought her vpon the ditch, and deliuered her vnto her father the king Laomedon.

CHAP. XLII. ¶How Laomedon ſhut Hercules out of Troy: and how Hercules ſware that he would auenge him.

WHen the king Laomedon ſaw his daughter thus deliuered from the monſter, and Troy made quit from ye dangers, he bowed and thanked greatly Hercules: after he came to the ſea ſide, accompanied with Hercules, Theſeus, Philotes, and with the Troyans. And went for to ſée and behold the monſter that was ſo great, that thrée hundred horſes might not moue him from the place where he was. One and other looked for to ſee the ſtrokes that Hercules gaue him, and they could not ſée all. But at that they ſaw they maruailed: for Hercules hadde broken bones that it ſéemed not poſſible to breake, and they had founde the head hurt in ſo manie places, that with great paine they could knowe whether hée had a head or none. Of this high and incredible victorie, the Troyans reioyſed maruailouſly, and had Hercules more in grace, then any man in the world. When they had ſéene and behelde the monſter inough, they departed thence, and brought Hercules into Troy. They came not ſo ſoone vnto the pallace, but they founde Exiona clothed with newe aray and veſtements. And as for Hercules, all that he had vpon him was wet and nothing drie. The king Laomedon would haue had him to haue changed his habites, and would haue giuen him newe. But the valiant Eſquire refuſed it all, ſaying that he had béene accuſtomed not to bee alway well a • 〈◊〉 eaſe. In this eſtate then Laomedon brought Hercules 〈◊〉 Troy, vnto the caſtle of Ilion, and his Greekes with hi • and feaſted them as it appertained. Hercules and his Greekes were foure dayes triumphant in Ilion. During theſe foure dayes, the Troyans went out in great routs, for to ſée the monſter, and gaue ſo great ſaud and prayſe to Hercules, that Laomedon had enuie thereat, doubting that the people would loue better Hercules then him. Hee thereupon ſent Hercules and his folke out of the towne for to hunt: and as ſoone as they were out of Troy, hee drew vp the bridge, and ſhut the gates againſt him. When Hercules thought for to haue entred, Laomedon ſpake to him, and ſaide to him from farre, that hee had mooued by conſpiration the Citie againſt him, and that hee would no more receiue him into the Towne. Hercules was paſſing wroth, when he vnderſtood the accuſation of Laomedon: and anſwered him, that neuer in his life hee had thought any villany to him, whereof he charged and offered himſelfe to proue himſelfe cleare by battaile in the field, and to aduenture his bodie againſt thirtie other, that would ſay or maintaine the contrarie, which offer Laomedon would not receiue. Then Hercules required him, that at the leaſt he would deliuer him his horſes, that he had promiſed him for the victory of the monſter. Laomedon anſwered him, that he would deliuer him none. Wherefore, ſaid Hercules? Laomedon anſwered, for as much as it is my will and pleaſure ſo to doo. Ha falſe and vntrue king (ſaid Hercules) thou withholdeſt mee the priſe and reward of my labour, and thou yéeldeſt me euill for good, I ſweare to thée by the puiſſance of all my gods, that as I haue deliuered Troy perpetually by my club, from the monſter of the ſea, and conſequently from the ſword of peſtilence: in like ſort, and euen ſo, by the ſame clubbe, I will yéeld and render vnto Troy the peſtilence, or death, and warre, if the goddes giue mée the grace: and I haue intention for to make the Troyans ſay, that they were happie that died in the time of the peſtilence that is paſt.

Hercules (full of great ire) departed with theſe words, and left there the king Laomedon, that ſet little ſtore by that he had ſaid to him: for he truſted and put all his affiance in the ſtrength of the walles of his Citie, and hee thought that no man might anoy nor gréeue him. And then Hercules went againe to his ſhippe, and mounted on the ſea with his club, and his ſhéepe, and with his fellow Theſeus. Philotes held himſelfe well happie for to haue béene vanquiſhed of one ſo valiant a man as Hercules was, and he tooke on him the office for to beare his harneſſe in all places where he went. What ſhall I ſay? from Troy vnto Thebes fell nothing worthie to be put in memorie, that is of record. In the ende he arriued in Greece, and knew by ſome certain man there, that the king Euriſteus was in Thebes: whereof hee had great ioy, for he thought he ſaw the ladie Megara, which hée deeſired to ſée by great deſire. He went then vnto Thebes, where he was ſolemnly receiued of the king Creon, which had him in great good account for his valiance. One and other came and welcomed him: he ſent his ſhéepe and muttons vnto the king Euriſteus by Philotes. Philotes himſelfe told and recounted, how Hercules had conquered them and him alſo, and how hée had ſlaine his giant at the paſſage. Of theſe tidings was the king Euriſteus paſſing ioyous, and ſo were all they that were there, or heard ſpeake of it. Euerie man glorified Hercules: Ladyes and Gentlewomen came and welcomed him. Among all other Megara fayled not, ſhee came to Hercules and welcomed him, and well became her to welcome and make him chéere: For, ſhée was wiſe and of good manners, and certes her comming gaue more ſolace vnto Hercules, then all the louings and prayſings that were then giuen vnto him, albeit that all the world prayſed and exalted him, for this voyage, aboue all the Greekes. And the ſhéepe were ſo deſired, that kings bought them for the weight of gold: wherefore the Hiſtoriographers and Poets put this conqueſt in perpetuall memorie, writing among his déedes in this wiſe. Subſtulit mala aurea, that is as much to ſay, that hee bare away the muttons of gold, for as much as they were eſtéemed at priſe of the weight of gold. For Mala in Gréeke is as much to ſay as ſhéepe in Engliſh, or muttons in French, and ſo recounteth Boccace in his genealogie of gods: and ſo approueth Varro, which writeth likewiſe in his Booke de Agricultura.

By this conqueſt, the name of Hercules beganne to flie in heigth and excellencie. The Poets haue fained vpon this Hiſtorie, that the daughter of Athlas had a garden kept night and day by a ſerpent waking, wherein grew Apples of gold, and that Hercules ſlewe this ſerpent, and gathered and bare away the Apples. By this garden is vnderſtood the Ile: by the ſerpent waking, the ſubtill giant commiſed to kéepe it, that alway awooke at the paſſage. And by the apples of gold be vnderſtood the ſhéepe, eſtéemed to the valour of the weight of fine gold. After then this preſentation made to Euriſteus of the ſhéepe or muttons, as each man maruailed of the proweſſe of Hercules, Philotes added and gaue to his ouercomer Hercules prayſes vpon prayſes, and lauds vpon lauds, and honour vpon honour: For hearing kings and princes, ladies and gentlewomen, and ſeeing that Hercules held his peace at things, whereof he might haue embraced honour and worſhip, he declared from point to poynt his aduenture, not credible of the monſter of Troy, and ſhewed the club wherewith he had put him to death: but after that hee rehearſed the honour and grace that he had gotten in Troy, and the wrong that Laomedon had done to him: he ſaid ſo much thereof, that they enterpriſed all to go to warre vppon the king Laomedon, for to take vengeance of the wrong that he had done to Hercules.

CHAP. XLIII. ¶How Hercules had battaile againſt the king Laomedon: and how he vanquiſhed and deſtroyed Troy the firſt time.

IT is not poſſible that my pen can write the grace and excellent renoume that Hercules gat in Greece at his coming from Troy. The kings and the princes reputed themſelues happie and fortunate for to haue their reigne in his time. Amphitriō his father putatiue, began to haue him in grace, and came into Thebes to him. His mother Alcumena came alſo; and certes ſhe fayled not to haue aboundance of ioy, when ſhe might ſet her eyes to ſée her ſonne, which was ſo greatly renowmed. The noble Lady had not ſéene him in long time before ſhe ſawe him tryumphe in honour, in valiaunce and in proweſſe: annoyes, griefs, and diſpleaſures, that ſhe had for him, becauſe that he was named the ſonne of Iupiter, whereof ſhe helde her ſelfe innocent, were then all forgotten and putte in oblyuion. The feaſte was great in Thebes for the loue of Hercules: men ſpake not of any thing but of him and of his proweſſe. Creon, Euriſteus, Egeus, Amphitrion and many other, aſſembled them togither, and made theyr muſters and aſſemblies for to go vnto Troy. By ſpace of time theyr army was ready: and then they tooke their leaue, and Hercules was made captaine of this armie. He went to the ſea accompanyed with the kings aboue ſaid, and ten thouſand men all choſen for the nonce. At the time conuenient the mariners diſancred, and went to ſayle: They ſayled ſo long by theyr courſe without ſtay or letting that (yet during theyr victualles) they came on a daye into Frigie, vnto a porte of a Cittie named Laryſe being nigh to Tenadon. This cittie was of the demeane of Troy: for which cauſe the Greekes aſſayled it, and tooke it by force of armes, and after that ryfled it and tooke all that was therein. And when they had ſpoyled it, they wente to Tenadon, which was a gentlemanly Cittye: they aſſayled it, and tooke it as they did the citie of Lariſe, and they put therein the fire, and burned it, ſo that the ayre was enflamed in ſuch wiſe, that it was ſéene in Troy, how the Citie burned. The aſſault of Tenadon dured not long, for aſmuch as the Troyans were not aduertiſed of their coming. When they ſawe the ayre ſo enflamed, for to ſée from what place the flame came, they mounted and went vppon the high towres and buildings of Ilion, and looking toward Tenadon, ſawe that the Cittie was all on a fire, whereat they that ſawe it were right ſorye, and greatlye abaſhed. About this they looked into the ſea, and eſpyed then there the flote of the Greekes, whereof they were more abaſhed then they were before. And then without any longer tarying, they deſcended and went down into the hall of King Laomedon, and ſayd to him: Alas Syr, what is beſt to bee doone? the Greekes come vpon vs with aright great flote: we haue ſeene them and know them. The ſtrong Hercules menaceth you, for to deſtroy your cittie. Certes I beléeue it is he. For now, for the beginning of the feaſt, he hath burnt Tenadon, and that is it that cauſeth the ayre to be full of fire.

The King Laomedon hearing this tyding began to ſighe and taſt of the euill and treſpaſſe that hée had committed and doone againſt Hercules. This notwithſtanding, for to giue courage vnto his men, and to his ſonne Pryamus that was at that time of the age of xx. yeare, he did cauſe to ſound to Armes, and made him ready, and with his armes ſhewed a right fierce and hardy ſemblance. This doone, he armed Pryamus his ſonne, that neuer had bin in battaile before, and dubbed him knight: after hée tooke him by the hande, and iſſued out of Ilion. In iſſuing out he mette manye Troyans, that tolde him, that at his port were landed many Greekes, that had deſtroyd Tenadon, and vnleſſe hée halted him, they woulde ſoone take lande. Laomedon with out ſpeaking any worde, paſſed foorth by them that had brought him theſe tidings, and came to a place that was there by Ilion, where he found mo then twentie thouſand Troyans ready armed. And ſéeing them, he began to ioy in himſelfe, and called the principals, & ſayd to them: Lords, ye be renowned in all the world, by the high proweſſe of your aunceſtours: Before that Troy was walled, they defended it with the ſworde agaynſt their enemies: the renowmed king Iupiter of Crete, could not get this Citie, nor the Theſſalonians by their warre, might neuer ſubdue this Citie. It is nowe happened this day, that a new aſſemblie of enemies come vpon this Citie, and as men ſay, they haue put the fire in Tenadon: let vs go receiue them couragiouſly, and let vs make of them like as our fathers haue made with other, &c.

When the Troyans had heard theſe wordes of theyr King, they anſwered all, that they would liue and die with him, for the weale of the Citie: and that they had intention to kéepe his honour, and for to make growe their auncient glorie. Without holding of long proceſſe, the King Laomedon did then diſplay all his banners. After he iſſued out of Troy, ſetting and trayning his men in good order. And then as he began to conduct and lead them foorth, ſodainly hée heard at the port, a paſſing great noyſe and bruite of Trumpettes, Clarions, and Tabours, of the Greekes. Then his bloud began to chafe, then his haire of his heade began to ſtande vppe, hée knewe that they were his enemyes: and as ſoone as they knewe the Greekes, without holding of any order nor meaſure, they diſlodged them, and began to runne to the port, one before an other. When they approched the port, they eſpyed the Greekes, that landed with great forces. Then they chalenged them vnto the death, and ran vpon them ſharpely. The Greekes were furniſhed with good armours, and put them to defence, and began to ſkirmiſh the one with the other ſo vnmeaſurably, that in the aboording and méeting there were many dead and hurt. Hercules was there among the Greekes. He began to fight ſharpely among the Troyans, and had his club. Certes he welcommed them in ſuch wiſe, that the moſt ſtrongeſt of his enemies durſt not abide him: he fought fiercely, in deſire of reuengement, in coueting of worſhip, and to get him a name. Lifting vp his hand, he ſhewed to the Troyans his club, and made them to féel the weight therof, & the ſtrength of his arme, and he labored ſo earneſtly, and did ſo valiantly, that they that ſaw him, doubted him more then death, and ſayd the one vnto the other: behold Hercules, but come not néere him. It were folly ſo to do: all that he reacheth he ſleaeth and breaketh to péeces. We do euill to fight againſt him: this is the deliuerer from the terrible ſeruage and thraldom of Troy: how ſhould we reſiſt his club, whē the huge dreadfull monſters be by the ſame put to the foile? &c.

Such were the words of the Troyans. Hercules fought agaynſt them fiercely: he was ſtout and ſtable: he went before: all the Greekes followed him, and tooke a pleaſure to behold him. The cry was great about him. What ſhall I ſay? he fought vntill the night, and neuer ceaſed vntill the going downe of the Sunne, and then the Troyans ſounded the retrait, and they departed both parties. Laomedon put his ſword into his ſheath, which was all bloody with Greekes blood: and in likewiſe did Priamus his ſon. They reentred into their Citie, after the ſkirmiſh, & they concluded, that on the morrow they would furniſh their enemies with battell. And the Greeks furniſhed them in the champaine, and made good cheare, for they had loſt but litle of their people at their comming on land. This night paſſed ouer: when the day appeared to the Troyans, and the Greekes, each in his maner made him ready to the battell: many of the Troyans would gladly haue broken this battell, and prayed vnto king Laomedon, that he would render and deliuer to Hercules the horſes that he ought to him. Laomedon would not do it, but aunſwered, that he doubted nothing his enemies. He had then about fifty thouſand of fighting men, all readie: of theſe fiftie thouſand he made two battailes, one of twentie thouſand, and that he led himſelfe, and the other of thirtie thouſand, of which hée made Priamus captaine. This done, he iſſued out of Troy, with twentie thouſand fighting men, and came vnto the fields, entring vpon the Greekes, &c.

When the Greekes eſpied king Laomedon comming, they were full of ioy, as they that were readie for to receyue them at the point of their ſpeares, and with hewing of their ſwords. They had made of their hoſt foure battailes. In the firſt was Hercules. And in the ſecond was Amphitrion, and Theſeus. And in the third was the king Creon, and in the fourth was Euriſteus. Hercules then that had the firſt battaile, marched when it was time, agaynſt the King Laomedon, and he had foure auncient knights well appoynted in the feates of Armes, that ſet and conducted his folke in array and order. They marched ſo nigh, the one to the other, with great noyſe of Trumpettes, and Labours, that the Archers, and Croſſe bowes beganne the battaile, after that that Hercules hadde ſummond Laomedon to pay him that he had promiſed him, and that Laomedon had made refuſall thereto. The Greekes were furniſhed with ſtronger Bowes and ſhotte then the Troyans were: and by that meane they ſlewe abundaunce of their enemyes: and eſpecially Hercules bare him ſo well with fortie Arrowes that hée himſelfe ſhotte, one after another, that hée ſlewe fortie of his enemyes, ſuch as hée would chooſe, without fayling.

Hercules was at that time the beſt archer, and the moſt ſure at marke that was in all Greece, & alſo in al the world. He and his men (as is ſaid) caſt many of the Troyans to the ground by the ſhot. When the ſhot fayled, Hercules deliuered his bowe vnto Philotes, that bare his harneſſe, and tooke a ſtrong ſword and ſure. When it came to ſwordes, and breaking and foyning with ſpeares, Hercules that was alway in the firſt front, leapt againſt the king Laomedon, that was departed from his hoſte afore all other, for as much as hee rode vppon one of the horſes that hee had promiſed to Hercules. And running one againſt the other as ſwiftly as they had flowen in the aire, met and ſmote each other ſo ſore, that their ſpeares brake in péeces, which ſprang about them. Hercules paſſed forth and ſmote among the Troyans, and Laomedon in like wiſe, entred into the hoſt of the Greeks: they beganne to handle their ſwords, and to hewe each vpon his enemies. Then aroſe there a maruailous noyſe: they that had ſpeares and ſhields, employed them for to ioyne battaile. The fight was great, the ſtrokes were hard, the battaile was generall, for of the one partie & the other, many men were diſtreſſed and beaten, notwithſtanding that the Greekes were moſt boyſtrous and moſt hard in armes, and more valiant then the Troyans, and better helde them together, then they of the battaile of king Laomedon. Hercules wrought and beſtirred him faſt with his ſword, that hee had conquered from Philotes. At euery ſtroke and euerie ſtep he killed a Troyan, and ſmote of their heads and armes in great aboundance, that it ſéemed that they that hee touched had not béene armed. Laomedon was buſie on the one ſide, and fained not, but bare him right well vpon his horſe, and ran from ranke to ranke among the Greekes: he reſted not, but conducted his people knightly, and his people were great in number: he ſet vppon his enimies ſo eagerly, that hee incloſed them, and then was the murther and ſlaughter ſo great that on al ſides a man ſhoulde not haue ſeene anything but bloud and heads, and armes flie in the place and the field.

When Theſeus and Amphitrion beheld the battaile of Hercules ſo encloſed with the Troyans, they bethought them, and came to his help ere he had néed. At their coming they made a right great vprore, they thruſted & couched their ſwords vpon the Troyans, which were too far forward, and ioyned to them with ſuch proweſſe, that they ſmote downe the moſt ſtable and ſtrong, and went ſo farre among them, that they made them that were ſo farre come, to retire againe, and go backe by force and ſtrength. In this going backe and reculing, the hoſt of Laomedon was all afraide and abaſhed. The thrée ſwords of Hercules, of Theſeus, and Amphitrion, were ſéene brandiſhing aboue all other in wel doing, and in ſhort ſpace they began to vanquiſh and ouercome their enemies, and would haue brought them to the foyle & ſhame. Then that the yong Pryamus with his thirty thouſand appeared to come to the aſſault, making ſo great a noyſe that al the ground trembled, and gaue a maruailous ſound, and they that were vpon the walles and edifices of Troy, made withall a great crie. Hercules, Theſeus, and Amphitrion, beholding Pryamus coming, and the puiſſance of Troy, ſet their people in aray, and in battaile order went with a great traine of Greekes againſt them, for to withſtand their enterpriſes. Theſeus was the firſt that ſpied Pryamus, who ſet and couched his ſpears againſt him, and he came with a great courage mounted vpon the ſecond horſe of king Laomedon his father, and charged with ſo great might vpon Theſeus, that he bare him to the ground turned vp ſide down, bruiſing him vpon his ſhield. Theſeus reléeued him being right angrie at this fall, and entred among the Troyans, ſmyting and hewing on them with his ſword, in ſuch furie, that he ſmote off the heads of more then thirtie Troyans ere hee ceaſed. The bruit and noyſe was great about him. The Troyans would haue reuenged them of his ſword, but their power was not ſo great: they had worke inough to ſaue themſelues, many Greekes came in the aide and helpe of Theſeus: and then they began to renew the battaile.

At this time, and at this ſkirmiſh Hercules and Amphitrion were nothing idle: they were on one ſide, and Theſeus on the other: at méeting there was many a man hurt and ſlaine. Priamus did maruailes vnto the Greeks: at the beginning, he bare him ſo valiantlye among his enemyes, that he found no man that did him any harme or annoy. He made his ſword for to taſt ſtronglye the blood of his aduerſaries: then as he was in this caſe he heard about Hercules, a right hie and a great pearſing crye of his people, crying, Troye, Troye, in diſpayre to haue preuailed. And then Pryamus wéening to haue holpen, and to ſmite downe dead all them that were before him, ran vnto the reſkew, to his maladuenture: for as ſoone as he was come before Hercules, and, Hercules ſawe him ſo on horſebacke, he remembred him that it was he that had ouerthrowen Theſeus to the grounde, and ſaid, that he would auenge him, and lifting vp his ſword, he ſmote Pryamus ſo fiercelye vpon his helme, that he was all aſtonied, and that his ſword ſlid down on his horſe neck, and entred in ſo farre, that there fel downe both Pryamus and the horſe.

When Pryamus was ſo ouerthrowne horſe and man, and alſo ſo aſtonied, that he wiſt not where he was: Hercules was aduertiſed that it was Priamus ſonne of the king Laomedon: and then had pitie of him, and tooke him priſoner, and did ſend him out of the battaile. The Troyans ſéeing this, were ſore and grieuouſly troubled, and for the reſkew of him they indeuoured themſelues and were encouraged ſo terribly, that Hercules might not ſuſtayne al the rigour of the battaile, and that the Greekes were conſtrayned to looſe place. The King Creon then diſplayed his banner, and his battaile, and in likewiſe did Euriſteus, and they put them in two winges one on the right ſide, and the other on the left ſide: and they came running in vppon the Troyans with ſo great noyſe and ſo great tempeſt, that all the Troyans felt well their coming, for at that time they wiſt not where to turne them. They were ſmitten before and behinde ſo ſore that they loſt the companye of Pryamus, and wiſt not where he was become. &c.

At this enterméeting, and ſkirmiſh, Laomedon was out of the preaſe and refreſhed him. When he heard ſaye that his ſonne Priamus was taken: he was therefore paſſing ſorowfull, and had ſo great paine, that the ſweat came to his heart and from thence vnto all his members, wherefore he went himſelfe againe to battell halfe out of his mind: the battell was then fell and enuenomed, and there was moſt hard fighting. But, for to augment and increaſe the ouer-great ſorrow of this Laomedon, he found that his folke had the worſe and loſſe, and litle fought, On the other ſide, hée ſaw the horions and ſtrokes of the Greekes, ſo great and ſo vnmeaſurable, that his men were brought out of ranke, and the arayes broken, and charged with ſo heauy ſtookes of the heauy ſwords, that they went and turned backe, and began to flie: and then when it came to the diſcomfiture, Laomedon abode not with the laſt, but entred againe into his Citie as haſtily as he might. The Greekes followed the Troyans eagerly, and ſo nigh, that they entred in with them, with great effuſion of blood. Hercules was the firſt that wa • the gate: and as for the Greekes he was porter, and put in all them that were of his knowledge. Many Troyans paſſed by the cutting of the ſword, and many fled away by the fields, and buſhes. When Laomedon ſaw, that by force his Citie was taken, and put in the hands and gouernance of the Greekes (right ſore diſcomforted, and all in deſpaire) he tooke his daughter Exione and Antigone, and his moſt precious iewels and gemmes, and fled away priuily, thinking that his enemies woulde make there a right great deſtruction and pilling, as they did: For when Hercules had put his men within the Citie, he let his men robbe and pill. Thus the Troyans were perſecuted. The chanels were tempred with their blood. The houſes were beaten downe, and the great riches were put into prayes: and of all the goodes of the Citie, there were left nothing whole, but the pallace of Ilion, whither the ladies and the maides were withdrawne. Hercules would in no wiſe deſtroy this pallace, foraſmuch as the ladies made to him a requeſt for to ſpare it. At this priſe Hercules ſought long Laomedon in the pallace of Ilion, and in all places of the citie, but he could heare no tydings of him, wherefore he was ſore diſpleaſant: and when he had beaten downe the walles, that had béene made with the money of the gods, he departed thence, and returned into Grece with great glorie. And in this wiſe was Troy, deſtroyed the firſt time. Wherefore I will thus now make an ende of this firſt booke, and will begin the ſecond booke: where ſhall be ſhewed how Troy was reedified, & how it was deſtroied the ſecond time. And how Priarnus rayſed it, and made it againe. In continuing the noble labours of Hercules nowe new begun, &c.

¶How Hercules fought againſt three Lions in the forreſt of Nemee: and how he ſlew them, and tooke their ſkinnes or hides.

IN the firſt booke is begunne the déedes and proweſſes of the ſtrong and puiſſant Giant Hercules: and how he deſtroyed firſt the Citie of Troy, and vanquiſhed the king Laomedon, after which déede and conqueſt, hee returned into Gréece, where he held him a certaine ſpace of time without doing of any thing that is founde by writing. But then, as the olde Iuno by her euill and curſed enuie gaue her to imagine and thinke how ſhee might make Hercules to be deſtroyed and die, tidings came to Crete, that into the forreſt of Nemee were come many Lions, and among all other, there was one that was ſixtéene hand of height, that deſtroyed and waſted all the countrey. And this Iune had warre againſt Euriſteus, and then, for to haue acquaintance with Hercules, and vnder colour of good loue, for to bring him into the clawes of this lion, ſhée made peace with Euriſteus, and ſent for him to come into Crete, for to confirme the peace. Euriſteus, that thought nothing but well, went into Crete, and brought with him Hercules. The peace was made, Iuno acquainted her with Hercules, they came to ſpeake of the lions in the forreſt of Nemée, &c. And ſo much ſpake Iuno, and reported to them that ſhe ſaid to Hercules, that it were well an act for to get him honour and renowne, for to go vnto the forreſt of Nemée, and for to employ him to conquer thoſe lions. Hercules weening that Iuno had counſelled him for to go and aſſaile the Lions for his worſhip and profit, enterpriſed for to go into the forreſt. Iuno required him, that if he went, when he had vanquiſhed the lions, hee would returne vnto her. Hercules promiſed her that he would ſo do. After he departed from Crete: and firſt hee went into Thebes for to ſée Megara, and for to make his harneſſe and armes for to be readie. When the ladies of Thebes knewe that Hercules would go againſt the lions of Nemée, all they complained of his youth: and they thought that hee ſhould die there, for the lions were cruell and terrible. Megara aboue all other, was paſſing ſorrowfull, and required the ladies, that they would pray Euriſteus, that he would kéepe Hercules from going vnto ſo dangerous a voyage. The ladies accompliſhed the requeſt of Megara, and had wéened to haue broken the voyage of Hercules by the meane of Euriſteus, but they might in no wiſe let his purpoſe: For Hercules anſwered to Euriſteus, and vnto the ladyes, that it was the firſt enterpriſe that he had taken in hand at the requeſt of any ladye, and for as much as the quéene Iuno had made him to do it, he had intent to accompliſh it by the pleaſure of the goddes and of fortune.

Hercules was great in heart and of courage, being exalted with honour, he had leuer haue dyed then to haue done a thing whereof ſhould follow any diſhonour. When his armes were readie, he armed him. After he tooke leaue of king Creon, of Euriſteus, of Amphitrion, of the ladies, and of the Gentle women, accompanied onely with Philotes, which would neuer leaue him. He departed from Thebes, and ſo ſped him in his iourney, that hee came vnto the forreſt of Nemée, which ſtood not farre from Argos. In approching this forreſt, he went two dayes without finding beaſts or men, vntill the time that he entring into the forreſt, found a paſtor or heard-man named Melorcus. This heard man was mounted vppon a great trée. When that he ſawe Hercules enter into the wood, he called to him, ſaying: Syr ye be dead, if ye go any further, returne quickly, for the fierce lions will eate you: or elſe come hither vppe to me vpon this trée. Hercules hearing the words of Melorcus, looked vpon the trée, and demanded him what he was? alas ſaid the paſtor, I am the moſt poore man of all other, the lions of the forreſt at their comming haue eaten a great heard of beaſts, that I haue nouriſhed héere by: beſides that, they haue eaten all my familie and meinie: and they haue deuoured all ſaue me alone, which haue by aduenture a great while ſaued my ſelfe vpon this trée, where I eate nothing elſe but leaues and akehornes, and dare not deſcend and come downe, for feare of thrée lions which be héere by, who will ſoone aſſaile you, vnleſſe ye depart and flie, &c.

The paſtor finiſhing his words, there came leaping out of a buſh the three lions, and marched againſt Hercules, roring and crying, and opening their eies with ſo great rage, that it ſéemed they would haue pearced through Hercules with their fell ſight. The great lion came firſt, his haire ſtanding vp, hee was as high as an Olyphant, & great after that proportion, and his head was twiſe as big as the head of a bull. Hercules ſéeing them come, tooke his ſword and his clubbe that Philotes bare. Philotes, notwithſtanding his proweſſe, was ſo ſore afraide, that hee went vppon the trée vnto the heard-man. Hercules ſet his club vnto the tree, and tooke his ſword faſt in his fiſts: the lions at the appraching brayed in their throates. Hercules ſmote one of them betwéene the eyes, and bare him downe to the earth, that hee ſate vppon his buttockes. The great lion thought to haue ſprong vppon Hercules, and to haue taken him in his clawes, and made a terrible leape. When Hercules ſawe and knewe his intent, he turned from him, and ſmote at the third lyon, which was light and nimble, and ſtrake with his ſword ſo right, and ſo firmelye into his throte, that he raught him to the hart, what-ſoeuer reſiſtance that he made in biting of the ſword: and left it within his body in ſuch wiſe that he fell downe dead. When the two lyons ſawe their felow ſo vſed they ſet their clawes on the earth, and howled ſo yrouſly, that it ſéemed that thunder had ſprong out of their ſtomacks. All the foreſt ſownded thereof. Hercules tooke his ſword: the two lyons approched of newe againe, and ran vpon him with theyr pawes, and hurte him ſo vnmeaſurably, that they looſed his armour, their nailes entring into his fleſhe, and them they drew out al dyed with his bloud.

Hercules had his heart ſore troubled, when he felte his woundes that the Lyons had made: then hee lifted vp his ſworde, and ſmote on one and other, but the great Lyon had his ſkyn ſo hard, that his ſworde might no more enter therein then it might on a great ſtithy. Thus began the battayle of the Lyons and of Hercules. The little lyon was paſſing eager and fierce, hee launched him foorth ofte times againſt Hercules, and alwaye thought to haue hurt him with his clawes that cutted like a raſour: but he launched ſo ofte that it was to his euill health and eaſe, for Hercules among, and after many ſtrokes, made to be deuided from his body the right legge, very nigh by the ſhoulder, and ſmote him downe by the féete of that other lyon that laye dead. &c.

When Hercules ſawe that he was deliuered of the two euil beaſtes, and that he had no more to doo but with the great Lyon, he began to haue an hope of good fortune. He then had comfort in himſelfe of the battaile, which was ſtrong to ſuſtaine: for the great lyon gaue him great ſtrokes with his pawes, and put him oft times in perill of death: the ſword of Hercules might neuer enter into the ſkin of the beaſt, it was ſo hard. The lyon tooke his ſword betwéene his téeth and his nailes, that with great paine he pulled and haled it from him. Finally, when he had long fought with his ſword, and knew well that thereby he might raiſe no bloud of the lion, he would aſſay if his club were to him more profitable. Then he tooke it, and the firſt time that the Lion came vpon him, hee gaue him a ſtroke with his club, ſo great on his mouth, that all the téeth brake and fell out before him. The Lion féeling the ſtroke, made a great maruailous howling, ſo he lifted vp his pawes, and thought to haue pulled downe Hercules. But he fled the comming of the lion: and the lion fell to the ground, with ſo great fierceneſſe of running and fayling of Hercules. And when Hercules ſawe that hee was fallen, he leapt vppon him forthwith eagerly and beate him, and held him with his hands about the throate, ſo faſt, that hee brought his iawes out of their places out of ioynt, and made his eies to flie out of his head and ſtrangled him, and ſo ſlew him.

In doing this déede or worke, Hercules ſhewed a ſingular hardines, and incredible force: for he ſtrangled with his hands a lion, with the ſkin ſo hard, that ſpeares nor ſwords might not do any harme: he put him to death by a wonderfull valiance: and when hee had ſo done, he went to the other that liued yet, and all to brake and tare him, as if it had beene a little lambe. After he called Philotes to him, and the paſtor or heard-man, that were maruailous ioyous and glad of ſo high a victorie. And Hercules found the maner how to flea the Lions, and tooke their ſkinnes, by the helpe of the heardman. When they had fleaed them, it was night. Hercules then demanded the heardman, if there were any houſe or lodging thereby, where hee might haue meate and drinke? The heardman brought him to his houſe, where they found prouiſion of meate and drinke, wherewith the good man feaſted Hercules to his power, and he ſéemed that he was in paradiſe. And thus Hercules paſſed the day and the night, and forgat not to thinke on his wounds that were fell and ſmarted, ſo that little or nought he ſlept that night. This notwithſtanding, when the day appeared, he tooke leaue of the heard-man, and ſo departed, and tooke his iourney for to go into Crete, for to ſhew vnto the Quéene Iuno the thrée lions ſkinnes, and for to thanke her of her good aduertiſement.

CHAP. II. ¶How Iuno ſent Hercules into Egypt to be ſlaine of the tyrant Buſire: and how Hercules ſlew the tyrant againſt the hope and will of Iuno.

AT this time raigned in Egypt the king Buſire the ſonne of the Quéene of Libie: and the land of Egypt was drie not fertile, but barraine. Buſire, for to remedie this, called his Clearkes that held the ſcience of Zoroaſtes, and aſked of them what he might do for the health of his Realme? They aſked counſell of the gods, and had anſwere, that they muſt ſacrifice vnto them mans bloud. When Buſire (that naturally was euill, and that had neuer done good) heard this anſwere: he beganne to tyranniſe more and more, that was a tyrant before. And beganne firſt with his people, raking and plucking from the mothers their little children, and from the men their wiues, and from the wiues their huſbands, in burning and defiling the temples of Egypt with their bloud. For all theſe homicides and ſlaughters the drouth ceaſed not, but augmented and waxed more. The Clearkes demanded their goddes, the cauſe why they had no dewes of water nor raine from aboue? They anſwered, that they would not haue the iuſt bloud of Egypt, but the ſtrange blood which they ſhoulde take and make ſacrifice thereof. The goddes by this anſwere, would haue in ſacrifice the blood of Buſire, for he was ſtrange in vertuous policie, and farre from all good. And the Clearkes vnderſtood that they would haue the blood of ſtrangers. Buſire aduertiſed of this anſwere, ceaſed to perſecute the blood of Egypt, and turned his ſword vpon the blood of ſtrangers. And made an Edict and ſtatute, that no ſtraunger ſhould enter into his Citie, but hée ſhould be ſacrificed to his goddes, and that hee would ſlea all the ſtraungers that he might get. By this Edict, and by this damnable cuſtome, manie ſtraungers, nobles and other were put to ſacrifice, and had their blood ſhe • in Egypt. Among all other, one noble man of Crete (of the lynage of Iuno) periſhed in this miſfortune, by the ſworde of Buſire. The tydings came into Crete, and there was made for him a great ſorrowe. As this ſorrowe was in his moſt prime, Hercules and Philotes came vnto the Quéene Iuno, and they found her charged with teares of wéeping, in her Citie. At that tyme there were an hundred Cities in Crete, and the King Iupiter helde him no more with Iuno, for many cauſes and reaſons, When then Hercules was returned vnto thi • Ladie Iuno his ſtepmother, he made reuerence vnto her. After he ſhewed to her the ſkinnes of the Lions that he had ſlaine, and thanked her of the high aduenture that ſhe had admoniſhed him of.

The curſed ſtepmother, for the returne of Hercules, augmenting her ſorrow vpon new ſorrow, receiued and feaſted Hercules, and made to him faintly the greateſt cheare that ſhe could. It was vpon the poynt to go to dinner, ſhée made him to dine and eate with her. In eating, after diuerſe ſpeaches of the Lions, ſhe deuiſed and thought howe ſhée might make Hercules for to die: and thought ſhe might do no better, then to ſend him into Egypt. At that tyme ſhe concluded in her ſelfe, that ſhe would ſend him into Egypt if ſhe might. For to do ſo, ſhe changed the reaſoning of the lions, and ſayd to Hercules: your coming again in ſafetie, is to mee moſt ioyfull, for that your name ſhall bée put in perpetuall renowme and prayſing among the moſt worthie and beſt of the world: for ye haue done many faire enterpriſes and déedes. In your yong childhood, ye made all the world to wonder and maruaile of the victorie of the ſerpents, by you ſtrangled. After, ye made your ſword to brandiſh in the weſt parts in Frigie, and now newly in Nemée. The aduenture of theſe exploits haue giuen to you right much honour and worſhip, whereof I haue right great ioy: for each perſon ought to be glad and reioyce in the well doing of another, and eſpecially of a noble man, and principally ſuch a one as laboureth to excell in valiantneſſe, euerie perſon is holden and bound to counſell him vnto his worſhippe and weale. Wherefore, ſince it is ſo that ye indeuour your ſelfe from day to day, and ſéeke the perils of the ſea, and the dangers of the earth, to the ende for to ouercome them: I aduertiſe you, that in Egypt is a tyrant that ſacrificeth al ſtrangers that come into his country, without reſeruing noble man or baſe. So then me ſéemeth, if fortune will helpe for to go and conquer him, that ye ••• uld get great honour and worſhippe to you and yours, and health and profit to all the nations of the world.

Madame, anſwered Hercules, I am not, nor neuer ſhall bee in all my life, of ſuch recommendation as yée ſay and report: notwithſtanding, for as much as I haue great deſire for to doe workes that may be to the pleaſure of the people, and for their health and weale, I promiſe you, and ſweare, that to morrow without any other delay, I will put me in deuoir on the way, for to go into Egypt. And I will neuer returne againe into my Countrey, vntill the time that I haue ſéene the tyrant. And if hee lay or put hand on me, for to ſacrifice me, I haue intention, that hee ſhall not doo it without ſtrokes. Iuno hearing the enterpriſe of Hercules, had in her heart paſſing great ioy. That day they paſſed in many conferences. Hercules tooke the ſkinnes of the Lyons and deliuered

a •• laboureth to excel in valour, every perſon is bound to counſel him to his honour and welfare. Wherefore, ſince it is ſo, that ye endevour your ſelf from day to day, and ſéek perils of the Sea, & dangers of the earth, to overcome them: I advertiſe you, that in Egypt is a Tyrant, that ſacrifizeth all ſtrangers that come into his Country without reſerving Noble or baſe So (I think) if Fortune be ſtill favourable to you, you ſhall gain great honor to your ſelf, and profit to all the Nations of the world.

Madam, anſwered Hercules, I am not nor never in all my life, ſhall attain to ſuch an e •• ceding height of honour as ye report: notwithſtanding, foraſmuch as I have great deſire to perform adventures to the benefit of all Nations, that they ſhall concern. I promiſe you, and ſwear, that to morrow without further delay, I will make all things in readineſſe, to go into Aegypt And I will never return again into my Countrey, untill the time that I have ſéen the Tyrant. If he lay hand on mée, to ſacrifice mée, I have intention he ſhall not without great ſtrokes. Juno hearing the enterprize of Hercules, rejoyced in her heart excéedingly. That day they paſſed in many confer • nces▪ Hercules took the skins of the Lyons, and deliver ••

them to a certain workman, to make of them a garment in manner of Armour, to Arm him withall. On the morrow he took leave of his Step-mother, and departed from Creet, ſo journeyed on the way with Philotes, (without finding any adventure, worthy the remembrance) on a day he came to the Gate of the City Memphis, in Aegypt, where the Tyrant Buſire held his reſidence.

When Hercules was come nigh unto the Gate, he took his Club that Philotes bare, and entred himſelf into the City. Hee had not béen long there, nor far gone, but Buſire which was advertiſed of his comming, came againſt him with his complices, without ſpeaking of any word, ran upon him. Hercules was well appointed, for he knew the Tyrant by his geſture, and the ſign that was told him: he lifted up his Club when he ſaw him come and as the Tyrant would have ſmitten him with his Sword, without any word ſpeaking, he ſtroke the Tyrant on the right ſide ſo vehemently, that not onely he feld him to the earth, but alſo all the ribs of his body were broken, that he could ne •• reléeve himſelf after. The Aegyptians ſéeing Buſire overthrown ſome ran to reléeve him, and the reſt aſſailed Hercules. Then was all the City in an uprore. Hercules was joyful he had overthrown the Tyrant, and began to make the Aegyptians to know his Club. He ſlew many of them, and the remnant he made to flye. His ſtrokes were ſo forcible, that the Complices of Buſire that were accuſtomed to ſhed mans blood, had their blood ſhed abroad, and could not remedy their miſ chance, which was ſo great, that Hercules filled all the place with dead bodies. And after a long battel, he found himſelf alone, for there was no man ſo hardy that durſt be ſéen before him. The people and the Commonalty of the Aegyptians, minded not the reſcue of their King. When they ſaw him beaten, they all hated him, and beheld the Battel from far by very great routs. When Hercules had then laboured ſo much, that he found no man to fight with him, he ſet down his Club, and addreſſed him unto a great company of Aegyptians that ſtood there, and aſſured them, he would do nothing unto them, and asked what people they were that had aſſailed him? They anſwered him knéeling on their knees, they were Man-ſlayers, Hang-men, and people of vicious and evil life: that their King, which he had firſt beaten down, was the worſt of them all, and had purpoſed to put him to death as a ſtranger, to make Sacrifice unto the Gods. And they prayed him to Sacrifice their ſaid King.

Hercules granting their petition, accorded it unto the people: and took this curſed Tyrant Buſire, and bore him upon his ſhoulders, unto the Temple, which the Aegyptians ſhewed him. The falſe Tyrant cryed after help terribly: but his cry availed him not. The Aegyptians cryed unto Hercules, ſacrifice, ſacrifice him. When Hercules came into the Temple, he ſacrificed him, after he had ſhewed him his curſed and evil life. And then when the fire was put unto the Sacrifice, it began to rain, and the great drought began to fail: Whereof the Aegyptians were ſo joyful, that none could expreſſe. They did ſing praiſes unto Hercules, and brought him and Philotes unto the Palace, and conſtituted Hercules King over them: but he refuſed: and ordained Iudges to govern them. Then he returned unto Quéen Juno, who had great ſorrow, and to King Creon who had great joy at the rehearſal of his good Fortune.

CHAP. III. ¶How Hercules eſpouſed Megara: and how he was made knight in Thebes.

IN like wiſe as the young Vine, by the labour and induſtry of the labourer, groweth in height, and his boughes ſpred abroade full of fruit: ſo Hercules, by vertue labouring vertuouſly, grewe in verdure of well dooing, and in fruite of nobleneſſe: his workes, his boughes, his braunches then beganne to ſproute abroad, and to mount and ſpread from Realme to Realme. The ſecrete conſpiracies of Iuno, and her curſed enuyes might not hurt, nor miniſh the vertue of Hercules. The more that ſhee thought to put downe and hurt him, ſhe more ſhe was cauſe of his exaltation. As hée was puiſſant and ſtrong of bodie he was yet more ſtrong of vertue, for vertue was ſet in him, as the precious ſtone is in golde, and as the ſwéete ſmell as in the flower, and as the ray of the Sunne beame is in the Sunne: hée was beloued of Kings, of Princes, of Ladyes, of Gentlewomen, of Nobles, and of baſe folke: in eſpecially Megara the daughter of King Creon loued him. And verily ſhée was not deceyued: for Hercules loued her alſo, and was neuer hurt but he thought on her. Yet they durſt none of them ſpeake to other of this matter: they were aſhamed to diſcouer that, whereby they had hope to haue honour and worſhip. They behelde each other, and oft they bewayled, and complained to themſelues, and deſired the day that they might take each other in marriage.

And ſo much they wiſhed after that day, that at the laſt it came. For on a morning tide, as Hercules was gone vnto the wood, for to take a wilde beaſt, he remembred him of his Ladie, and beganne to ſpeake and ſay to himſelfe ſoftly. Shall I be alway in paine? Shall mine heart neuer be eaſed, but alway languiſhing in loue? I ſée one and other in great ioy with their loues and ladies, and I wote neuer how to come to the point of one onely, that I haue choſen aboue all other, and for to atchieue my purpoſe I wot not how to beginne. I dare not ſpeake to her, nor I haue not aſſayed if ſhée would condiſcende. Shall I ſpeake to her I wote not wel? If I ſpeake to her, and ſhe refuſe me, I ſhall fall in deſpaire. I ſhall die for ſorrow of melancholie and diſpleaſure, I ſhall neuer dare come after in any noble aſſembly a foote. Alas, what paine? all conſidered, a time muſt come that I ſpeake to her. If all her friendes were of one accord, for to giue her to me in marriage, and ſhe were not content and pleaſed, all were loſt. The moſt ieopardie is, to haue her good will and grace, for without her grace I may nought do. Then it is of neceſſitie, that I ſéeke and require, if I may haue her good wil, ſince it is ſo: for if I ſléepe thus and ſpeake not, I ſhall neuer atchieue nor come to my purpoſe.

Hercules reſolute in his purpoſe, ſurpriſed and enflamed with great deſire of loue, came from the wood, and abandoned the wilde beaſt, and gaue it ouer, for to come vnto Megara, thinking how, and by what words he might come and ſhew vnto her that which lay on his heart. He went then ſo farre, that he came vnto the garden of the pallace, where he was with many ladies and gentle women. He made to them reuerence, vntill he eſpied the time that he might ſpeake to Megara, and he waxed ſo penſife that it is maruaile: hee entermitted nothing to conferre with the Ladies, but therewith he drewe him apart into the garden. When the Ladies beheld him ſo penſife, diuers of them came to him, and talked with him to put him from his thoughts and penſifeneſſe, but they could not, and at laſt Megara came to him. As ſoone as Hercules ſawe her come to him, he beganne to ſigh, and came againſt her. And ſhe ſaid to him, Hercules, why are ye ſo penſiue, put away from you ſuch melancholie, & tel me of your newes I pray you? Ladie (aunſwered Hercules) I thanke you of your good viſitation, and ſince it pleaſeth you to heare of my tydings, and to knowe them, I will ſay to you a part. Firſt I tell you, that the cauſe that I am brought and put in the abiſme or ſwallowe of penſiueneſſe and ſighes that is this day come vnto me, is by beholding of you: for as I went to the wood to hunt, the remembrance of your right noble beautie, continually being in mine imagination, came into me, and made me enter into a ſecret perplexitie, that is to wit, whether I ſhould alway liue vnguerdoned, and vnrewarded of loue, and alſo (if I durſt ſay ſo to you) I haue ſet my heart and loue wholy on you. Madame this perplexitie was great, but in the end I concluded to come vnto you, for to know the concluſion of my fortune, whether it be death or life. Being in this deliberation (thinking how I might ſpéed with you) and ſtaying in this point and doubtfulneſſe, your comming hath put me out of a right great thought and penſiueneſſe, for I wiſt not better howe to come to the poynt for to ſpeake to you a part) as I may now doo) then for to apply the matter in time, for I ſay to you for truth, that ſince the tyme of my Olympiade, I haue deſyred you night and day, and at that tyme I ſet my heart on your ſeruice, reſoluing to loue you for euer. Madame, I knowe and wote well, that I haue enterpriſed a thing that I am vnfitte and not woorthie of. This notwithſtanding, I abyde your mercie, and require you, that it may pleaſe you to receyue mée into your grace, in ſuch wyſe, that ſhortly I may ſée the day of our marryage, &c.

When Megara vnderſtoode the words of her loue Hercules, ſhe in heart reioyced with great ſolace, and much ioy, notwithſtanding ſhe was abaſhed, and all ſhamefaſt ſhe aunſwered thus. Alas Hercules, by what fortune finde I mee in the grace of ſo gentle a man as yée hée? Your exceſſiue proweſſe, your glorious labors, your reſplendant vertues be ſo much of value, that ye are worthie to haue to wife the floure of Ladies and the choiſe. With theſe wordes the gentlewomen came there vnto them, to beare their conferences of loue. And ſaide vnto Megara, that it was time for to withdraw her for to dine. Megara, ſorrowfull of haſtie departing, and that ſhe had no more ſpace to reaſon with her loue, & that ſhe might not atchieue her purpoſe, by conſtraint toke leaue of Hercules, & went into the hall, al ful fed with loue, and Hercules abode in the garden, glad & ioyous of the ſwéet enſwere yt he had receiued.

When the Ladyes then had left Hercules in the garden, as ſoone as they were gone, Hercules aſſembled Euriſteus and Amphitrion, and ſayd to them, that he had great deſire and will to bee married, and prayed them that they would go to king Creon, to know if he would giue him his daughter Megara. They ſpake to king Creon of this marriage: the king heard them ſpeake right gladly, for the matter pleaſed him, and anſwered that he might no where better beſtow his daughter, then to the moſt noble man of the world Hercules, whom he loued as his owne ſon, which was ſo valiant and ſo noble, and had no fellow like vnto him: and that he was content to giue to him his daughter, and all with her that hee would demand. Euriſteus and Amphitrion thanked the King of his curteous anſwere. Megara and Hercules were ſent for: the king made them to troth-plyte each other, with great ioy of both parties. After this proceſſe of time, the day of the eſpouſals and marriage was celebrated with glorie, triumph, honour and ioy. What ſhall I ſay? they lay together without more adoo, and liued together right honeſtly.

Anon after the ſolemnitie of this marriage, Hercules came to King Creon, & prayed him that he would dub and make him knight, for as much as they of the realme of Iconie were come vnto him, and had choſen him for to be king of their citie, for his good renoume. The king Creon (ioyous of that, that he was choſen for to be king of Iconie) anſwered, that hee would accompliſh his deſire: but hee would that this ſhould be done at a certaine day aſſigned: ſaying, that then he would make a right noble feaſt, where men ſhould iouſt and turnoy, and that he would cauſe to come thither all the Kings and the Princes of Grece. Hercules accorded and agréed to the counſaile of the King, and then the King ſent his meſſengers vnto all the Kings of Grece, and prayed them to hee at the chiualrie and dubbing knight of a noble man, that ſhall hold a ſolemne ſport at a day, named and ſet, for to aunſwere all them that ſhall come to the iouſtes. The renowme of this foreſayde feaſt was anon borne and knowne vnto all the reignes of Grece: the prouiſion and ordinaunce was great in Thebes, one and other diſpoſed them for to be there▪ the tyme paſſed, and the day came, many a king & knight was come at that time to Thebes. Theſeus and Iaſon the ſonne of King Eſon, were there amongſt all other. The kings made a great ſtirre, and great pompous ſhewes about ten of the clocke before noone. The king Creon went into the place that was ordained, arayed, and ready for the iouſts. At a corner in the ſame place there was a tent. In this tent was Hercules all alone. That ſame time the Ladies and gentlewomen went and mounted vppon the Scaffolds: the iouſters came into the place, no man knew nor wiſt not, who was this new knight. What ſhall I ſay? When the king Creon ſawe that the knights were come in on all ſydes, and that the ladies were gone vpon the ſcaffoldes, hée ſent for Hercules and made him knight after their ſtatutes. And then Hercules mounted vpon his horſe, tooke his Speare and his Shéeld, and chalenged them that were there, to the end that each man ſhould do his deuoyr. And then one and other that deſired to haue worſhip, tooke their ſpeares, and ran agaynſt Hercules, and beganne a iouſting that was right hote and ſharpe. Their ſpeares were ſtrong and brake not eaſily, but they met often tymes, and ſome were ouerthrowne and ſmitten downe off theyr horſes. They that might not iouſt agaynſt Hercules, aſſayed each other, like to like. Iaſon and Theſeus iouſted oft times agaynſt Hercules, and Pirothus ſonne of king Ixion in like wiſe. All they that I name, bare themſelues right valiantly. Notwithſtanding, aboue all other, Hercules abode all men, and no man might abide his ſtrokes, but he bare them all down except Iaſon, which encountred him diuerſe times, and gaue him many great ſtrokes. Hercules bare downe Theſeus to the earth, and Pyrothus, & well neare fiftie ſtrong knights. He did ſhew ſo much valour, that no man abode in the place but Iaſon and he. And then he left and ceaſed the iouſtes, for the valiancie that Hercules found in Iaſon, and euer after he had a ſpeciall loue to him, and tooke acquaintance of him, and feaſted him, and made him great cheare.

At the end of this iouſting, knights, ladies, and gentlewomen went vnto the pallace. There was Hercules made king of Iconie. The feaſt was great and rich, more then I can rehearſe: the ſtrangers were greatly feaſted, and highly thanked in common. What ſhall I make long proceſſe? When all the feaſt was paſſed, with honour and glorie of Hercules, and there was no more to do, whereof any memorie is for to ſpeake of, Pirothus praied al them that were there to be at his wedding in Theſſalonique, at a certaine day named. Each man promiſed him to go thither, and bée thereat. Euery man tooke leaue of Hercules when time was come of departing, and each man returned into his Countrey and place: and they could not inough maruaile of the glory abounding, and likely to abound, flouriſh and fructifie in Hercules, which was very courteous and humble, and was not proud for the grace that he had in temporall honour and renowme. He was ſo vertuous, that he was not the more high minded therfore, nor enhaunced himſelfe, but the more méeked and ſubmitted himſelfe.

CHAP. III. ¶How the Centaures rauiſhed Hypodamia at the wedding of Pirothus: and how Hercules recouered her againe, and vanquiſhed in battaile the Centaures.

FOr to continue our matter, then when Hercules ſawe approch the day of the wedding of Pyrothus, he diſpoſed him to go thither. By ſpace of time he went foorth on his way, and tooke Philotes with him: and at all aduenture tooke with him his armor of the ſkin of the lion. When Megara ſaw him depart, ſhe was ſore troubled for his departing. And the more for that, that he tooke his armour with him: for ſhe thought, if Hercules had heard ſpeake of any great exploit, he would go thither, and endeuour himſelfe to aſſay himſelfe agaynſt it. With great ſighs ſhe looked after him, as farre as ſhée might, praying to the goddes, that they would bring him ſhortly againe. Hercules and Philotes went forth into the Countrey, and as much as they might they haſted ſo their iourny, that they came to Theſſalonicque, where they were receyued with great ioy of Pyrothus, and of his friendes. They found there a right great aſſembly of noble men, Ladies and Gentlewomen. Theſeus and Iaſon were there. The friends of Iaſon would that Iaſon ſhoulde bée made knight. And for to do that, they preſented him to Hercules, which gaue him the order of knighthood. And Hercules ſaid, that he had ſéene in him a good beginning of a noble man, and if he may liue, he ſhall attaine one day to things right high and noble. Among other things the day of wedding came, the citie was all full of nobles, & the Centaures were there: they were an C. Giants armed, that ran as the wind, which the king Ixion had got him in Theſſaly, of whō ſome dwelled in Moloſe, and the other in Aphyte a Citie of Epyre, whereof was Quéene Hypodamia the Ladie and bride of the wedding. There were many kings and princes, of whom I haue not the names. The quéene Hypodamia and Pyrothus were wedded together after their law. When the time of the dinner was come, they ſet the Ladie in the hall, where was made a generall feaſt. At this feaſt all the commers were amply ſerued with all maner of good wines, and good meates: in eſpeciall the Centaures made paſſing good chéere, and drunke ſo much of the ſtrong wines, that the principall captaine of all named Eurycus, and ſome of the other, had words togither, and troubled the feaſt. In this trouble they ſought togither, and caſt each on other pots, platters, wines and meates, ſo terribly, that many of them were hurt and dead. Then anon was the hall full of noyſe. Euricus and fiftie of his giants iſſued out of the preaſe, and went to fetch their hardeſſe or armour. When they were armed, they entred into the hall, and not content with the trouble that they had made (albeit that Hercules and the other indeuored to appeaſe them that ſlew each other) they tooke the quéene Hypodamia, and bare her out, and rauiſhed her, and fled away with her. When the Ladies ſaw this great outrage, they cryed out all afraide. The affraie was ſo great, that Hercules, Iaſon, Pyrothus and Theſeus, ranne vnto them, and when they knew that the Centaures had rauiſhed the Lady, at fewe words they went and armed them anon.

Hercules did on the ſkinne of the Lion, and tooke his ſword, his bowe, and his arrowes, and then went after the giants without abiding for any other companie or perſon. The giants were withdrawen vnder a trée, and there they trained them in battaile, as they that wiſt well and ſurely, that the firſt that ſhould come to them, ſhould be Hercules. They hated Hercules ſecretly, and had enuie at his glorie. They ſwore all the death of Hercules: and then when they were in theſe tearmes and ſpéeches, Euricus eſpyed from farre Hercules, and ſhewed him to his companie. Hercules was all alone, and came not a pace ſoftly as a man, but he came running as nimbly and ſwiftly, as the hart runneth in the vally, and it ſéemed that he flewe in the ayre. The ſwiftneſſe of Hercules abaſhed nor afrayde not the Centaures: they were about foure ſcore, and they were all of great courages: they tooke then their Speares, Polaxes, Swordes and other weapons of warre, and ſome of the ſtrongeſt of them were agaynſt Hercules: on the other ſide, as ſoone as Hercules approched ſo nigh as hée might ſhoote at them, he bent his bow, and with an arrow he ſ •• o • e a Centaure named Grineus, in ſuch wiſe that the arrow pearced the head, entring by the viſage, and nayled and faſtned his head vnto a trée that ſtoode behind him. With the ſecond arrow hée ſmote another Giant, named Petreus, in the breaſt through the armour, that it went through his body. With the third hée hurt Dorillas, a terrible Giant, and nayled his hand vnto his face, and the arrowe entred with ſo great might (as afore is ſayde) and made the hande to be faſtned to his face: of which ſtroke he was dead.

He ſhotte many mo arrowes then, as long as hée had any: and hée ſhotte none, but with it hée hurt or ſlew one of the Gyants. When his ſhotte was fayled, the Giants, béeing ſore gréeued for that they had ſéene theyr fellowes die by the ſhotte and ſtrong hande of Hercules▪ they cryed vppon Hercules, and enuyroned him on all ſides, Siſacus, Pheotones, Neſſus, Mincus, Stilo, Lodeuin, and Piſeon, were the firſt that ſmote vppon Hercules with their Swoordes. Hercules tooke hys Sword, and came agaynſt Pheotones, that had a great Axe, ſo great that it was a mans burthen. Pheotones anon lift vp his great Axe, and thought to haue ſmitten a mightie ſtroke vpon Hercules. But Hercules that knew inough of the warre, turned him from the ſtroke, and ſo the great Axe fell downe to the ground. And then ſuddainly Hercules caught that great axe, and plucked it out of his hands, and forthwith gaue him a ſtroke withall, ſo great that he ſmote of his right arme with the ſhoulder. &c.

Such was the beginning of the battaile of Hercules, and of the Centaures. Cilarus ſmote then Hercules behinde, with all his might. Piſeon and Ledeuin ſmote him alſo both at one time: notwithſtanding Hercules was not once aſtonied therewith, but running to Cilarus, he gaue him a ſtroke with the axe ſo luſtily on his helme, that it entred into his body, ſo that he ouerthrew the giant to the earth, and he ſerued in likewiſe Piſeon and Ledeuin. Iaſon and Theſeus put them then in the battaile, and well proued theyr youth, at their comming. For to giue the other heart and courage, Hercules thruſted into the greateſt preaſe of the giants, and ſo wrought with the axe, that they curſed Pheotones that had brought them thither, and all them that had gone about this matter. In beating and ſmiting down all before them, Hercules began then to ſéeke Hypodamia, & found her al bewept, right beſide and nighe Eurycus. Then he ſpake to Euricus. and ſaid to him: thou euil glutton thou haſt this day troubled the feaſt, and ſtolen the Lady of my fréende Pirothus, and now anon I wil trouble thy ſpirit: with this word he diſcharged his axe, & ſmote with-al Eurycus, in ſuch wiſe on ye head, that he fell downe dead, vnto the great gréefe and amaſing of the other giants: For, in beholding the are dyed with the bloud of Curyens their captaine, they were al abaſhed. Then began Hercules to ſmite more and more vpon the giants: there was none then ſo reſolute, but he was affraide: nor none ſo hardy, but he began to hide himſelfe, and tremble for feare. His ſtrokes were not to be born, but he put his enimies out of araye, and vnto flight. Fynally, with the helpe of Iaſon, of Theſeus, and of Pirothus, that were meruailous valiant, they vanquiſhed and chaſed them vnto a riuer, where twelue of them ſaued themſelues in paſſing and ſwimming ouer, and all the remnaunt of them were perſecuted vnto the death, ſaue only Lyncus that Hercules helde priſoner, for as much as at the diſcomfiture, he prayed him of mercy, and yéelded him vnto him. Thus were the Centaures deſtroyed, more by the ſtrength ond hand of Hercules, then by any other. When Hercules had ſo fought that there were no mo of the Centaures vpon the place, he and his fellowes returned vnto Hypodamia, and brought her againe vnto the Cittie with great tryumphe. What ſhall I ſay? the Ladies recouered ioye by the recoueraunce of Hypodamia, and renewed and beganne againe the feaſt, that dured afterward eyght dayes right great and ſumptuous. &c

CHAP. V. ¶How Pluto rauiſhed Proſerpina: and how Orpheus went for her into hell: and how the queene Ceres came vnto the wedding of Pirothus: and how Theſeus & Pirothus fought with Cerberus, porter of the ſayd hell. &c.

IN this time, that is to wit a little before the wedding of Pyrothus, as Pluto (the king of Moloſe, ſonne of Saturne, and brother of Iupiter.) ſayled and went by ſea, ſéeking his aduentures, ſo long hée ſayled that he arriued in Sicill, and hee founde there nigh by the waters ſide a right great aſſembly of Sicyliens that halowed the feaſt of their goddes. When Pluto ſaw this feaſt, he did arme twentie of his company vnder their robes or garmentes, and went in this manner for to ſée the feaſt, for to wit if he might finde any booty. This Pluto was the greateſt théefe, and the moſt lecherous man in all the world, and had with him a Giant named Cerberus, enough like vnto Pluto of conditions and of courage, but he was much more ſtronger and more puiſſant of body. All the other were great as giants, and had learned nothing els but for to practiſe harme and miſchéefe, and could none otherwiſe doo. Whē then the Sicilians ſawe Pluto come and his fellowes, they ſuppoſed that it had béene ſome of their neighboures that came for to ſée theyr playes and ſports, for as much as they came clothed in theyr garmentes, and ſawe none of theyr armour nor harneis. And they enforced them to ſing and daunce. But Certes their ſongs and theyr daunces were not continuing nor dured long: for in coming vnto them there, the king Pluto caſt his eyes aſide, and ſawe there the Quéene of that countrey that beheld the feaſte: and by her, her daughter that made a garland of floures. The mother was named Ceres and the daughter was called Proſerpina, & was maried vnto a noble man, named Orpheus, that ſate beſide her and played on the Harpe. This Proſerpina was paſſing meruailous fayre. Anon as Pluto had ſéene her he deſired and coueted her, and aduertiſed his folke ſecretlye of her, and after came nigh vnto her, that he ſet hands on her, and layd her on his backe and bare her away.

When Orpheus and Ceres ſaw Proſerpina ſo taken away they cryed out piteouſly and lamentably vnto Pluto. With this crye, the Sicilians left their feaſt, and ran after Pluto in great number, men and women, hoping to haue reſkewed Proſerpina. But when Cerberus and his complices ſawe the vprore, they drew out theyr ſwordes, and ſhewed theyr armes and ſmote vpon them that approched them, and ſleaing them aboundantly, they retyred, and went vnto the port Maugre the Ciciliens and Orpheus. They guided Pluto into his ſhip, and after they entred, and then diſancred and carryed awaye Proſerpina. The Cicilians were then diſpurueied of armes. They coulde not withſtand the taking away of Proſerpina. At the departing from the porte was made the moſt ſharpe lamentation and ſorrowe that could be. Proſerpina wept ſore on the one ſide piteouſlye, and cryed right highe and loude. Ceres on the other ſide, with the Cicilians, made no ſcarcitie of teares, and Orpheus fayled not to furniſhe his teares with déepe ſighes, for he loued Proſerpina, and ſhe loued him alſo. At their departing, their hearts were brought to a hard and grieuous diſtreſſe, with ſo great anguiſh that Proſerpina fel downe in a ſounde: and Orpheus was ſo rauiſhed with anger, that he returned vnto his Pallace, when he had loſt the ſight of Proſerpina, and held him cloſe in his chamber, with out ſpeache two dayes.

At the ende of two dayes Ceres 〈◊〉 diſ • e Orph •• that would neither eate nor drinke 〈◊〉 ſayd in him, that 〈◊〉 knew well the rauiſhour of her •••• der that it was Pluto the king of Moloſe, and thei 〈…〉 a part of Theſſaly in a lowe and baſe Citt •• 〈◊〉 •• ied H • ll for as much as in this Ile, King 〈◊〉 complices old ſo much harme and euil, that 〈◊〉 compared vnto d •• is, and theyr cittie was named He •• 〈◊〉 Orpheus vnderſtood that Proſerpina was in he •• he 〈◊〉 •• ile hope in himſelf, and eate and dranke, and made 〈◊〉 that he would neuer reſt in place vnto the time that 〈◊〉 bin in Hell, for to ſée Proſerpina.

After that he had eaten, he ſent for his marriners, and bad them to make ready a ſhip. When the ſhip was furniſhed with all that it behoued, (after the lead • and cong • e taken of the Quéen Ceres) in habi • 〈◊〉 he entred alone into his ſhip with his harpe, and 〈◊〉 marriners to ſayle foorth on the ſea, in ſuch •• ſe that he arriued at one of the portes of Theſſalie. Orpheus went there a land, and after he commaunded his Marriners, that they ſhould abide him in the ſame place, vntill a certayne time that hée named. After, he departed and went from countrey to countrey, ſo long for to diſpatch his matter, that hee came to the gate of hell which Cerberus kept, and there hée beganne to playe on his harpe right ſwéetely and melodiouſly.

When Cerberus heard the ſound of the harpe, h •• lifted vp his head on highe, and came out of the gate for to know who was he that played ſo melodiouſlye? and by the ſound of the harpe he found Orpheus: and thinking that Pluto would gladly heare him: (for to reioyce Proſerpina that alway wept) he made him enter into the citie, and brought him before the King. Orpheus then began to play againe on his harpe. When the King Pluto had heard him, he tooke therein good pleaſure, and ſo did al they that were there by him. Then Pluto ſent for to ſéeke Proſerpina. When ſhe was come, and heard him play with his harpe, by his play ſhe knew well that it was her huſband: then ſhée was ſore abaſhed, and whereas ſhée had ſore wept before, ſhe kept as much more after. Pluto was ſorte for the ſorrow that Proſerpina made, and ſaide to Orphe • s. if hee could ſo play with his harpe that the ladie ſhould ceaſe her wéeping, hee would giue him what hee would aſke of him. Orpheus promiſed and aſſured him that hee would doo it. And Pluto ſware to him, that hee would hold and kéepe his promiſe if he ſo did. And then Orpheus ſette and tuned his harpe, and played diuerſe ſongs ſo ſwéetely, that the infernall Ceberus, and many other fell aſléepe: and alſo Proſerpina, by the meane of certaine tokens and ſignes that Orpheus made with his eyes, ceaſed of her wéeping.

When Pluto ſawe Proſerpina ſo ceaſing her wéeping, hee was paſſing ioyous: hee awoke then Cerberus and the other that ſlept: after he ſpake to Orpheus and ſaid to him, that he had ſo well harped, that no man could do better: and that hee would that he ſhould demand ſomething, and he would giue it him without any faile. Orpheus hearing the words of Pluto, had great perplexitie in himſelfe, for to knew what thing he might demand: in the ende he ſayde to him. Sir, I am Orpheus the huſband of this ladie, and for her loue I haue enterpriſed to come hither in this caſe nowe: I pray and require you, that yée will giue and render her againe to mee, that I may bring her againe vnto her mother that dyeth for ſorrowe. When Pluto had heard the requeſt that Orpheus had made, hée was all amazed at the hardineſſe that Orpheus had ſhewed: how be it, he anſwered to him. Orpheus ye haue demanded of mee Proſerpina: ſhe is the Ladie that I moſt loue of all the world. Neuertheleſſe, for to accompliſh the promiſe that I haue made to you, take hir, vpon condition that ye bring her out of this Citie, without looking or beholding after or behinde you: and if it happen that yee once looke behinde you, ye ſhall looſe her. At this anſwere Orpheus was content, and it ſéemed to him that his wife was as good as recouered or woonne, hee and Proſerpina paſſed ouer that night in good hope. When the morning was come, Pluto deliuered Proſerpina to Orpheus, on condition afore rehearſed. Orp •• • nd Proſerpina tooke leaue of king Pluto, and than •• 〈◊〉 after they went on their way, but hee had not gone halfe way to the gate, when Orpheus priuily looked behinde him, for to ſée if any man followed him, and then hee found at his héeles Cerberus, that tooke Proſerpina away from him, and yéelded and deliuered her againe vnto the king.

Orpheus ſéeing that by his vnhappineſſe he had loſt his wife, beganne to curſe the day that he was borne, and came after, and followed Proſerpina, and beganne againe to harpe, and to offer great gifts, for to recouer her againe, but it was ſaide to him for concluſion, that hee ſhould neuer haue her againe: and alſo, that if he had vſed the feats of armes, as he had the ſtrings of the harpe, he ſhould haue died. With this concluſion Orpheus departed from hell full of ſorrow and anguiſh, and returned into Sicill, vnto the quéene Ceres, telling to her his aduenture. The quéene being acertained that her daughter was in hell, as ſhe that was aduertiſed, that in Theſſaly ſhould be halowed the feaſt of the wedding of Pyrothus, and that there were many knights, of great name, ſhe went to the ſea, and came fitly to Theſſalonica, while the feaſt yet endured. In approching the citie, on an after noone as Pyrothus and Theſeus were in the field they mether. Her armie w s great. The ſeus and Pirothus ſaluted her, & ſhe ſaluted and gréeted them againe, and after aſked them the eſtate of the feaſt of the wedding. They tolde, and recounted her all. After ſhe demaunded of them, if there were there no knights of great name, and high enterpriſes? when they vnderſtoode that ſhe enquired ſo farre: they would knowe what ſhe was, and demaunded her name? I am (ſayde ſhe) the Ladye Ceres of Sicill. Then ſpake Theſeus and ſayde: Madame, ye bée welcome: for what occaſion demaunde you, if in the feaſt be any knightes of enterpriſe? I can well ſaye to you, that there be truly: but notwithſtanding I doo wiſh you, I praye you, and alſo require, that ye tell and declare vnto vs the cauſe why ye haue ſo demaunded. &c.

Syr (ſayd the Ladye) ſince it pleaſeth you to enquire of mine eſtate ſo farre: knowe ye for certayne, that I haue made to you my demaunde, for as muche as Pluto the King of Hell hath rauiſhed my daughter Proſerpina, by which I am hurt vnto the death: and I would fayne finde ſome knight that of his courteſie woulde imploye him for to get her againe, and yéelde her to me, and for to aſſaile the curſed tyrant: who I pray the goddes may be damned and confounded euerlaſtingly for his demerits. Wherefore I praye you, if ye know any that wil to me be mercifull, that it pleaſe you for charitie to direct me vnto him. Madame (aunſwered Theſeus) be ye no more inquiſitiue to finde ſuch a knight as ye ſeeke: for in the fauour of all Ladyes I wil be your knight in this worke, and promiſe you vpon myne honour, that I will tranſporte me into hell. And the king Pluto ſhall neuer haue peace with me vnto the time that he hath reſtored your daughter.

When Pyrothus heard the enterpriſe of Theſeus, he began to breake of his words, and ſayd to him. My brother, what thinke you to doo, when ye enterpriſe for to go into hell? ye knowe not the boundes nor the ſituation of that place. Hell ſtandeth behinde the inner ſea betwéene mountaines and rockes, ſo high that the Cittizens that dwell therein, be in continuall darkenes and ſhadowe: and the Entrie is ſo difficult that it is impoſſible to come within the Cittie, vnleſſe the porter conſent: For here-be-foretime, many haue gone thither, that be there left and abiding: there goeth no man thither that euer commeth againe. It is right an hell, and each man nameth it hell, as well for the ſituation thereof in ſo darke and vnlightſome a place: as for the inhumanytie and terriblenes of the inhabitants that wayte to doo euill and diſpleaſure to all the world. Theſeus aunſwered vnto Pyrothus, and ſayde: There is nothing impoſſible vnto a valiant heart.

The King Pluto is cruell and ſtrong, his folke and people tyrannous. His Cittie ſtandeth in a Countrey enuyroned with mortall perills. Notwithſtanding, certes the doubt and feare of theſe things, ſhall neuer • aunt nor withdrawe my courage, but that I will doo my deuoir to atchiue this enterpriſe, and will performe my promiſe, or will haue reproche of all manner of Knightes. A manne to kpeepe his owne honoure and worſhippe ought not to doubte anye perill what ſoeuer it ſhoulde be. &c.

When Pyrothus had heard the noble anſwer of Theſeus, he allowed it greatly, and ſayd to him, that his wordes were to him right pleaſing and ſo acceptable, that he would holde him company in this aduenture. The Quéene Ceres thanked the two Knightes: ſo they brought her into the Cittie and into the pallace. She was there receyued and feaſted as it apperteined. The ſtealing away of her daughter was told, and the enterpriſe of the two Knightes. By the reporte of this aduenture, and with the enterpriſe that Theſeus and Pyrothus hadde made, all the feaſte was troubled agayne on a newe. Among all other Hypodamia conſidering that her huſbande that was ſo newlye marryed vnto her woulde go in this perillous voyage of hell, her hearte beganne to giue out wéeping of teares, and might receiue no ſolace nor comfort vnto her eyes. What ſhall I ſay? the feaſt ended in great ſorrow. Iaſon and Hercules would gladly haue gone with Theſeus and Pyrothus, and ſpake thereof to them, but they would not ſuffer them. Then departed Hercules and entred into a ſhip, as if he would haue gone into his countrey. Each man in like wiſe departed, and Theſeus and Pyrothus tooke their way for to go vnto hell. And then about their departing, whereof Hercules was aduertiſed, Hercules made for to direct his ſhip vnto the marches of hell, and there went a land alone, concluding in himſelfe that he would go after Pyrothus and Theſeus his loyall and true fellowes, and betooke to Philotes the charge for to bring Lincus vnto Thebes, and for to put him there in priſon vntill his returning and comming againe. After, he departed, and Philotes ſhipped in the ſea, where he had a dolorous aduenture, as ſhall be ſaid heereafter. But at this time I muſt ceaſe ſpeaking of that matter, and will recount of Hercules, how he went into hell.

CHAP. VI. ¶How Hercules found Pyrothus dead at the gates of hell, and Theſeus in danger: and how Hercules vanquiſhed Cerberus: and how hee conquered Proſerpina from Pluto, &c.

IN this place it ought to bee ſpoken, that when Theſeus and Pyrothus were departed from Theſſalonica, for to go and aſſaie if they might recouer the faire Proſerpina, they did ſo much trauaile, that by their diligence in ſhort time they arriued in the vallie where was Proſerpina, in the vallie full of ſinne and curſedneſſe. Pyrothus that knew the countrey, found the direct way that went to the Citie, and entred firſt therein. This way was ſo ſtraite, that there might no man but one alone go neither on the right ſide, nor on the left ſide, the rocks were ſo high, that no man might go on neither ſide. When they had paſſed this way, they found a rocke carued and cut into ſtayres or grées, made and hewed out with chyſels. And then they ſawe lowe beneath, Hell, as a Cittie ſtrong, enuyroned with waters that fell downe impetouſlye and fearefully from the rocks, and made a terrible noyſe and roring: for they fell from right highe into a lowe ſwalowe or abyſme in the earth. This Cittie was all encloſed with mountaines. For to ſpeake properly, it was a right Hell, and it had no more but one entrie and one gate: then for to come downe to the gate, Pyrothus and Theſeus deſcended downe by the degrées made in the rocke. Then in the deſceding ſodaynlye they ſawe ſpring from the gate a greate giant out of meaſure, that had an head meruailouſly miſſhapen, fierce blacke and vglye. He had his noſe high and and wide, his Chin long, his téethe great as a horſe téethe, his eyes great like vnto an oxe, his eares hanging like an hounde, his ſhoulders large and broade, his bellye ſwolen and great bolned, his legges and his thighes were paſſing ſtronglye bened and mightie. This terrible Giant was Cerberus, whereof is touched and rehearſed before.

The Poets named him the hounde with thrée heads, conſidering his right gréeuous and vnhappie liuing, which is compared and likened vnto thrée ſingular vices: that is to wéete, to pryde, to auaryce, and luxurye, or leachery. By pryde, he gloryfied himſelfe, and enhaunced him aboue all the men in the worlde with his force and ſtrength, for he was ſo ſtrong that no man might withſtande him. By auarice and Couetiſe, hee hadde an apetyte inſatiable for to gather to-gither treaſours, and tooke and bare awaye all that hée might haue or coulde finde. By luxurie, there was no man liuing of more foule lyfe then hee was: for hee hadde neuer doone other thing in all his life then for to defile and rauiſh women and maydens, ladies and gentlewomen, & ſo by good right the poets named him an hound with thrée heades, for he was ſoule as an hound that liueth in multiplication of ſinnes, and taketh therein his felicitie. O gréeuous felicitie? When Theſeus and Pirothus had eſpyed this enemie Cerberus come vnto them all armed, making the whéele in marching proudly vnto them, Pirothus ſayd to Theſeus. My brother, beholde what enemie this is: hee that putteth him in ſuch perils for for the loue of ladies, ſetteth but little by his life. It behoueth vs nowe to liue or die, let vs now atchieue ioyouſly our enterpriſe. And to the ende that ye may not thinke but that I had leuer die then to haue reproch, I will be the firſt that ſhall beginne the battaile. Theſeus had no ſpace nor leyſure to aunſwere, for Cerberus came to them, and called to them, ſaying: What ſeeke theſe fellowes in hell? Wee come (ſayd Theſeus) for to ſéeke Proſerpina, whom Pluto hath taken away from the Quéene Ceres. Wée will neuer returne into our Countrey, vnto the time we bring her with vs. Truly (aunſwered Cerberus) if yée will returne into your Countrey, yée ſhall render and yéelde agayne Proſerpina, but I will forbidde you the returne. And this day I will preſent vnto you Proſerpina, my Sworde dyed in your bloud. And here you ſhall be buryed: yee ſhall neuer ſée Proſerpina, nor come no nearer then ye bée now. With theſe wordes hee lifted vp his Sworde, and gaue ſo great a ſtroke to Theſeus vpon his Shield, that hée did beare away thereof an halfe quarter, &c.

When Pirothus ſaw his fellow ſmitten, hée tooke his ſworde, and ſmote Cerberus on the one ſide. Theſeus ſmote him on the other ſide, and they gaue him two right great ſtrokes, ſo great that they made Cerberus to be chafed ſo ſore, that he began the battaile ſo vnmeaſurably, that he all to fruſhed and brake their ſhields, and their harneſſe, and alſo made his ſword to be dyed with their noble blood, as hée had before ſaide. The battell was hard and mortall at the beginning. Theſeus & Pirothus receiued many wounds by eager ſtrokes, their armes were all to hewen and broken. The battaile endured long, and Pirothus did right wel behaue himſelfe: but Cerberus ſmote vpon him ſo vnmeaſurably, that after many woundes giuen to him, he all to brake his helme, and cleaued his head in two péeces vnto the ſtomacke, &c.

When Theſeus ſaw his fellow die, he ſtroke with his ſword in great anger, and ſmote Cerberus ſo fiercely that he made him ſtagger, and go backe two paces. Cerberus would haue auenged him of this ſtroke, and ſmote vppon Theſeus a ſtroke, by ſo great force, that if the noble knight had not turned backe, Cerberus had borne and ſmitten him vnto the earth. This ſtroke of Cerberus fell vpon the earth, and entred therein, and Theſeus ſmote againe vpon his enemie, which had the heart ſo great, that he began to rore as an olde Lion, and ſmote Theſeus ſo fiercely with his ſworde, that hée all to brake his ſhéelde, and all to fruſhed his helme, that hée was all aſtonied at the ſtroke. But alway Theſeus abode in his place: and then Cerberus would haue brought him vnto deſtruction, following the euill aduenture of Pirothus, if that fortune had not brought thither Hercules, which came ſo fitly to reſkew, that Theſeus knew not elſe how to ſaue him.

At this poynt when that Theſeus was ſo aſtoniſhed, Hercules that was departed from the ſea (as is ſaid) came to ſtayres that were cut and made in the Rocke, and beholding Theſeus all couered with blood, and Pyrothus dead, hée beganne to deſcende downe, crying to Theſeus that he ſhould not bée afeard nor take no dread. When Cerberus ſawe and heard Hercules, he beganne to crie againe and rore, and aſſayled eagerly, for to be quite of him. Theſeus might no more, howbéeit that hee was recomfortes with the voyce of Hercules, but began to run now here and now there before Cerberus.

So much then haſted Hercules for to go downe the ſtayres or degrées in entring the place, and as haſtely as hée might he cryed to Cerberus, and ſayde to him. Tyraunt cruell, let the knight run and come to me: thou haſt put to death vpon the earth my good fréende Pyrothus, whereof I am ſorye certaine: and if I may I will take vengeaunce on thée for him. Cerberus hearing the ſentence of Hercules, ran no more after Theſeus, but taryed and behelde Hercules with a fierce looke, and aunſwered to him. So weneth he to auenge his ſhame that ſo beléeueth: I haue deſtroyed thy fellowe vnto the death, and vnleſſe thou excéede him in ſkill of armes and in bodylye ſtrength an hundred folde double, it is folye for thée to come hither: For I am Cerberus the porter of hell, he that at report of my name all the world trembleth.

Thus ending his anſwere Hercules was at the foote of the rocke, and he had his club vpon his ſhoulder. Cerberus came againſt him, they ſmote each other luſtily, and thus they began a right hard battaile: and then Theſeus that was paſſing weary ſat at one ſide by, out of the way, & reſted him in drying and clenſing his woundes of the bloud yt had come out of thē.

Hercules beheld then on the one ſide, and ſéeing Theſeus purging and clenſing his profound and great woundes, hée beganne to imploye the force of his ſtrength and might, by ſuch meruaile, that with a ſtroke that he gaue him vpon his helme vpon the right ſide, hée made him to bowe and ſtowpe vnder his club, and to knéele to the grou • d with his left knée, and at the ſecond ſtroke in purſuing him haſtilye, hée made his ſworde to flye out of his handes, and then he made him to fall on his armes to the grounde, and with the thyrde ſtroke, as Cerberus wéende to haue reléeued him and gotten his ſworde, Hercules ſmote him vpon the bodye, that he made his head réele againſt a great ſtone that was thereby: after that hée ſprang vpon him, and bounde his legges with the ſtrength and force of his handes, maulgre the giant, & he tare of the helme of his head, and would haue ſlaine him, but Theſeus prayed him that he would not put him to death there, and that he would bring him into Theſſalonica, for to die by the ſentence of the Quéene Hypodamia, &c.

Cerberus was not then put to death, at the requeſt of Theſeus. Notwithſtanding Hercules bound his handes behind his backe, and after he made him ariſe, and tooke him by the beard, and made him go vpon high on the rocke, and there he laid him downe, and bound his féete, his hands, and his necke togither, in ſuch wiſe that he might not, nor durſt not remooue. When he had done ſo, he went downe, and entred into the gate of hell, and leauing there Theſeus, hée went ſo farre that he found the pallace of King Pluto, and there came into the ſame hall where Pluto was with Proſerpina. All they that were there, maruayled at him, when they ſaw him entred: for they knew nothing of the ouercomming of Cerberus, as they that left all the charge and keeping of their Citie to Cerberus, without hauing any doubt or ſuſpition: and alſo they were ſo farre from the gate, that they might not heare of the battaile, nor knewe nothing what was befall to their porter. Then when Hercules had founde Pluto and Proſerpina, hee had great ioy, and knew by tokens and markes of them there béeing, that it was hée, he addreſſed him to Pluto, and ſayd, Pluto, by thy malice Sicil is now all full of wéeping, and of teares, for the rauiſhing of this Ladie, which thou haſt not willed to yéeld, and render againe to her huſband Orpheus. I wote not what pleaſure thou haſt therein, but I will ſay to thée, that thou ſhalt receyue great diſpleaſure, in following the euill aduenture of Cerberus, whom I haue vanquiſhed and ouercome, &c.

With theſe words Hercules lift vp his club, and gaue ſuch a ſtroke to Pluto, that he ouerthrew him to the earth, ſo that he moued neither hand nor foote. When he had ſo beaten Pluto, thinking that he had béene dead, hée aſſayled all them that were there that made any murmur, and put them all to death lightly with his club in the preſence of Proſerpina, which trembled for feare. Then he comforted Proſerpina, and ſayd to her, that he was come vnto that place for to deliuer her, and for to bring her again to her mother, and that ſhe ſhuld boldly follow him, Proſerpina aſſured and reſolued, was comforted with theſe words of Hercules, and followed him.

Hercules opened the hall, and went out, and Proſerpina with him. After he addreſſed him vnto the gate of the Pallace, and it happened to him that he found there a right great companye of Cittizens, that were aduertyſed of this affray, and they ran vpō him vnmeaſurably purſuing him to death. When Hercules ſawe that, he willed Proſerpina that ſhe ſhould get her a part. After that he enhaunſed and lifted vp his club, and began to ſkirmiſh with his enimies right vertuouſly and by ſo high proweſſe, that he couered all the entry of the Pallace with theſe miſerable, tyrauntes that he flewe, ſmote downe, and all forfruſhed them, and put to death more then foure hundred. Finally he wrought ſo that the other fled and gaue it ouer: and then when he ſaw his euil willers dead and ſcattered, he tooke Proſerpina by the hand and lead her out of the gate of the cittie.

Theſeus (that abode and taryed at this gate, as is ſayd) greatly reioyced when he ſawe Hercules come againe with Proſerpina: he aroſe and went againſt them, and ſaluted the ladye, and preſented to Hercules a chayne of a diamond yron that he had founde at the gate, and many pryſoners bounde, that Cerberus had bound withall. Hercules vnbounde the pryſoners, and tooke the Chayne, and bound Cerberus with, all. And when hee had buryed Pyrothus, he departed from this hell, and tooke his waye with Proſerpina, Theſeus and Cerberus, and without great adoo for to ſpeake of, made ſo his iourney, that hee arriued there in Theſſalonica, and deliuered Proſerpina to the quéene Ceres: and to Hypodamia, he preſented Cerberus, rehearſing to her and the Ladyes, how he had ſlain Pyrothus. Hypodamia had ſo great ſorow for the death of Pyrothus, that for to recount and tell, it is not poſſible. All they of Theſſalie likewiſe made great mourning and ſorrowe, and ſore bewayled their lord. What ſhall I ſay? for to reuenge his death. Hypodamia did cauſe to binde Cerberus to a ſtake in the theater of the Cittie, and there young and olde tormented and vexed him thrée dayes long continually, drawing him by the bearde, and ſpitting at him in the vyſage, and after ſlew him inhumainly and horriblye. And then when Hercules and Theſeus, Ceres and Proſerpina had taryed there a certayne ſpace of time in comforting Hypodamia, they tooke leaue togither, and Hercules went accompanyed with Theſeus towarde the cittie of Thebes. But of him I wil now leaue talke and wil come to ſpeake of the aduentures of Lyncus

CHAP. VII. ¶How Andromeda deliuered Lycaon from his enimies: and how he ſlew in battaile the king Creon, and tooke the citie of Thebes &c.

WHen Philotes hadde receyued into his guard and kéeping Lyncus, and Hercules was gone to the ſuccours of Theſeus and Pyrothus, as before is ſayd: the mariners tooke theyr ſhip, and went to the ſea, and ſayled all that day with-out finding of any aduēture. But on ye morrow betime in the morning, fortune that alwaye turneth without anye reſting, brought to them a great ſhippe, that drewe his courſe vnto the ſame place that they came from. Of this ſhippe or galley was Captayne and chéefe, Andromedas King of Calcide. This Andromedas was Couſen vnto Lyncus. When he hadde eſpyed the ſhippe where Lyncus was in: he made to rowe his gallie abroade, and ſaid, that he would know what people were therein. In approching the ſhip of Thebes, Lincus beheld the gallie of Andromeda, and knew it by the ſignes and flags that it bare. In this knowledge Andromeda ſpake, and demanded of the marriners, to whom the ſhippe belonged? Anon as Lincus ſaw and heard Andromeda, hée brake the anſwere of the marriners, and cryed to him all on high. Andromeda, lo héere thy friend Lincus. If thou giue me no ſuccour and helpe, thou maiſt looſe a great friend in me: for I am a priſoner, and Hercules hath ſent me into Thebes.

Andromeda hearing Lincus, had great anger, for he loued well Lincus, and called to them that brought him, and ſaid to them, that they were all come vnto their death. And alſo that they were vnder his ward. Philotes and his folke were furniſhed with their armes and harneſſe, and made them all readie for to defend themſelues, and with little talke they of Calcide aſſayled Philotes, and Philotes and his folke employed them at their defence. The battaile was great and hard, but the ill fortune and miſhappe turned in ſuch wiſe vppon the fellowes of Philotes, that they were all ſlaine and dead. Andromeda had two hundred men in his companie, all robbers and théeues on the ſea. Theſe théeues and robbers ſmote hard and fiercely vppon Philotes, and all to hewed his armes, ſtriking and giuing to him many wounds, and hée buried manie of them in the ſea. But their ſtrong reſiſtance profited them but little, for in the ende he was taken and bound, and Lincus was deliuered and vnbound from the bonds of Hercules.

Lincus had great ioy of his deliuerance: he then thanked his good friend Andromeda. After this, he tolde him how he was taken, and how Hercules had diſſipated and deſtroyed the Centaures. And among other he named many of his friends that were dead, whereof Andromeda had ſo great ire and ſuch diſpleaſure, that he ſware incontinently, that he would auenge it. And that as Hercules had ſlaine his friend, in like wiſe he would deſtroy his couſins and kinſmen. Lincus tooke great pleaſure to vnderſtand the oath of Andromeda which would auenge the death of his kinſmen. He ſaid to him, that Hercules was gone into hell. And after demanded him how he would auenge him vpon the friends of Hercules? and thereupon they were long thinking. In the end when they had long taken aduice, Andromeda concluded, that hée would go aſſaile the Cittie of Thebes, and if hée might gette it by aſſault, hee would ſlea the king Creon and all them of his bloud.

With this concluſion came thither all the gallies of Andromeda which followed, in whom he had eight thouſand fighting men. Andromeda made them to returne toward Thebes, and as haſtily as hee might hee entred into the Realme, waſting and deſtroying the countrey by fire, and by ſword ſo terribly that the tidings came vnto the king Creon. When the king Creon knewe the comming of the King Andromeda, and that without defiance, he made him warre, he ſounded to armes, and aſſembled a great companie, and knowing that Andromeda was come into a certaine place, hee iſſued out of Thebes all armed, and brought his people vpon his enemies, that had great ioy of of their comming. And then they ſette them in order againſt them, in ſuch wiſe, that they came to ſmiting of ſtrokes. The crie and noyſe was great on both ſides, ſpeares, ſwords, darts, guiſarmes, arrowes and polaxes, were put forth and ſette a worke. Many Nobles were were beaten downe and dead. Lincus and Andromeda fought mortally: the King Creon and Amphitrion fayled not, there was bloud aboundance ſhed on the one ſide and on the other. And the battaile was ſo cruell and ſharpe then, that in little while after Andromeda and his people gatte and wanne vppon them of Thebes, and conſtrained them to retire and for to go backe: whereof the king Creon had right great ſorrow, and wéening for to haue put his men againe in aray, put himſelfe in the greateſt preaſe of the battaile where he fought mortally, and made ſo great a ſlaughter and beating downe of his enemies, that Lincus and Andromeda heard of the ſkirmiſh, and then they came togither. And as Lincus ſawe the king Creon do maruailes of armes, hee gaue him thrée ſtrokes one after another, and with the fourth ſtroke, he all to brake his helme from his head, and ſlew him, whereof they of Thebes were ſore afraide, and diſparred ſo, that they were put to diſcomfiture, and fled: which flying Amphitrion might not remedie, albeit that he was ſtrong and of great courage.

Of this euill aduenture Thebes was right haſtily aduertiſed. Megara was gone vp vpon one of the high towers of the pallace, and ſawe and beheld the battaile: and from that place ſhe ſaw them of Thebes ſlaine without remedie, and alſo turne their backs. The ſight of the beating downe of the king her father, and the view of the ſlaughter of other made her to crie out and ſaid. Fortune, Fortune, what miſchiefe is héere? where is Hercules? Alas where haſt thou brought him? Alas that he is not héere to defend the countrey of his natiuitie, and for to kéepe his wife farre from annoy, and for to put his hand and ſhoulders for to beare the great acts and deedes of this battaile?

When ſhee had ſaide this, ſhe fell in a ſwoune, and ſo lay a great while. Neuertheleſſe, the king Andromeda and Lincus, followed ſo haſtily them of Thebes, that they entred the Citie with them. And for as much as the Thebans were without head, and put out of aray, and that Amphitrion had ſo many wounds vpon him, that all the members failed at this worke, the vnhappie Lincus and Andromeda tooke the Citie, and flewe all them that might beare armes, except Amphitrion, whome they found not in the heate. After they went vp into the pallace, and there they found Megara and Amphitrion in great deſolation, with many ladies and gentlewomen.

As ſoone then as Lincus had eſpied Megara (ſhe was ſo faire and pleaſant) that he became amorous of her, and came to her and ſayd. Ladie wéepe no more: Hercules the baſtard ſonne of Iupiter, is gone into hell, and there he is dead. Ye haue béene wife of a man gotten in adulterie, from henceforth ye ſhall be fellow and wife of a man legitimate, and borne in lawfull mariage, for I will wed you, and will do you more good and pleaſure then euer yee had. Megara anſwered: falſe traytour, wéeneſt thou that I be ſo fooliſh as to giue fayth and credite to the words of the homicide of my father, and to the enemie of my lord Hercules? Knowe thou that I am his wife, and that I will neuer haue other huſband but him: he is no baſtard, but ſonne of my Lorde Amphitrion, and the moſt noble man that is in all the world. Ladie (aunſwered Lincus) I am king of this Citie, ye be now at my commaundement, will ye, or will ye not, I ſhall do my will with you, but I will put it in reſpite, and in my ſufferance till to morrowe. After theſe wordes Lincus ſent Megara into a Tower, and made her to bée kept there. After he ſent Philotes into a lowe priſon, and finding there in bondage and miſerie Priamus the ſonne of king Laomedon, he had pitie of him, and ſent him againe to Troy, where hée was after receyued with great ioy of the Troyans, &c.

CHAP. VIII. ¶How Hercules entered into Thebes in vnknowne habite: and how he put to death the Giant Lincus, and his complices, and his wife Megara, &c.

BY the ſword of Lincus then and of Andromeda, Thebes was troubled dolorouſly. Lincus exerciſed there many tyrannies and wickedneſſes. In this miſfortune Andromeda departed, and went to do his buſineſſe, leauing there Lincus with foure hundred men of warre, for to kéepe the citie, and to hold it in his obeyſance. Thus was taken vengeance of the Centaures. In the time of this reuenge, the Quéene Iuno came into Thebes, and had great ioy when ſhee found it in deſolation, and full of widowes and orphelins, and in the enemyes handes of Hercules: then were great the teares and lamentations of Megara. Amphitrion was nigh her, who vnderſtoode all her gréefes, and comforted her. Lincus came many tymes vnto her into the priſon, and requeſted her ſwéetly to haue her loue, and that in the fayreſt maner he could. Yet his ſwéete and fayre wordes auayled not, for hée found her conſtant and firme, and alway kéeping inviolable her chaſtitie, and gaue him many vertuous aunſweres, whereof foloweth one, which was the laſt, and this. Lincus, thou haſt now thy hand ſtrong, and haſt conquered Thebes. Fortune and ill hap hath giuen vnto thée the tyranny, whereby thou haſt enriched thy ſelfe with vices. Thou haſt furthermore the power for to commit on mée murther: but thy power, nor thy ſinnes be not ſo ſtrong, nor of ſuch might, for to make my vertue to bow in two folde. Megara alway bewailed Hercules: ſhe lamented ſo much on a day, that ſhee became all rauiſhed, and in a traunce. And that ſame day Hercules that was departed from Theſſalonica a good while before, made ſo his iourneys, that hée entred into the realme of Thebes accompanied with many noble men. And entring into theſe coaſts, hée found the countrey all deſtroyed. And he had not gone farre, when it was tolde him, how Lincus was Lord of Thebes: and how he had ſlaine in battaile the king Creon, and had impriſoned Megara, &c.

When Hercules had receyued theſe tydings, he was repleniſhed with great anger, and ſayd, that he would auenge him if he might. Then he clad him aboue his armors with a mantle, and diſguiſed himſelfe as much as he might: when he had ſo done, he left there his fellowes, and entred himſelfe into Thebes vnknowne, and paſſed through the gate, and bare him ſo well, that the Porters let him paſſe foorth: and in likewiſe entred into the Pallace. At the entry of the Pallace, a ſouldiour came to Hercules, and demaunded of him what he ſought there? Hercules caſt away his mantel a farre, and took his ſword that was ſtrong, and without any worde hee gaue ſo great a ſtroke to the ſouldiour that was not armed, that he cleft his head from the higheſt part downe to the ground. Many other ſouldiours that were there, ſéeing the ſtroke, cried, and béeing afrayed, ran to their axes and clubs, and ſome were of them that put forth themſelues for to take Hercules: but Hercules ſmote off their heads, and beat them downe: and then began to ariſe a great vprore, and ſo great a noyſe, that Lincus heard it. And thinking it had béene his porters that quarrelled, hée came running downe all vnarmed, for to make peace. As ſoone as Hercules perceyued, and ſaw him comming out of the hall, he drew vnto him with his ſword readie drawne in his hand, crying, Hercules, Hercules, and ſmote him ſo that he cut off the right arme, and with the ſtroke he fell downe to the ground. And after he ſmote vpon one and other, that had no helmes on their heades, nor habergions on theyr backes, and then they knewe that it was Hercules. Hée ſlew them ſo thicke, that with the bloud that ranne downe, was made a right great ruſhing, as if it had béene a riuer.

Among theſe things the gentlewomen of Megara iſſued out of the pallace, and went into the ſtréetes crying with high and cleere voyce, that Hercules was come againe, and that hee had ſlaine Lincus. With theſe cryes all the Citie was mooued, the good men olde and yong, the widowes, wiues and maides ranne vnto armes with great courage, and aſſayled all about the men of Lyncus. There was a terrible battaile, and many people gathered togither, men & women againſt their enemies. In a little while all the citie was troubled. When Hercules had put to death al them that he found in the cloſe of his pallace, excepting Lincus whom he put in the guard and kéeping of the Quéene Iuno, and of many Gentlewomen that came vnto him: then hée ſprang into the ſtréetes, and ſhewed his ſword, and ſmote downe right on all ſides in ſkirmiſhing ſo mortally with the men of Lincus, all about where he might finde them, that by the helpe of them of Thebes, he made them all to paſſe the ſharpeneſſe and cutting of his ſword. And then was Thebes all glad: and Hercules returned into the pallace, vnto the place where the ladies kept Lincus. Then Hercules ſent for to breake vppe the doore of the chamber where Megara was in, for as much as they could not finde the keyes, for they that kept her were dead. Megara then full of gladneſſe came vnto her lord. Hercules roſe vp to her, and would haue embraced her, and kiſt her. But Lincus, that thought on nothing but for to do euill, by the ſecret perſwaſion of Iuno, turned him from it, ſaying: Hercules, let be my concubine, I haue taken my fleſhly deſires with her: ſhe is of mine acquaintance, and the moſt luxurious ladie that euer I was acquainted withall.

When Megara heard the right great iniurie and wrong that the traitor charged hir with, ſhe fel backward for anger being furious, without ſaying of any word. Hercules was al full of anger, and hote and full of great ire, wéening that Lincus had ſaid truth, ſo he ſmote off the head of Lincus, and with the ſame ſword that he had ſlaine the traitor with, he put to death Megara, who was with childe. Howbeit the Cronicles of Spaine tell, that Hercules ſlew not his wife, but that he put her into a religious houſe, that he ordained in Thebes in the temple of Diana, renouncing her companie: and there it is ſaide, that this was the firſt religion that euer was in Thebes. Theſe things accompliſhed in the one manner and in the other, Hercules went forthwith and tooke out of priſon Amphitrion and Philotes, and departed from thence al angrie and ſore gréeued: ſo that at that time and long after he ſpake not: and went his way at all aduenture, accompanied with Theſeus and Philotes, with the great bewailing of them of Thebes, which then after his departing crowned ouer them Layus the ſonne of King Agenor of Aſſirie, for as much as he had wedded the daughter of the king Creon named Iocaſta.

CHAP. IX. ¶How Hercules put to death the King Laomedon, and deſtroyed Troy the ſecond time.

HErcules, Theſeus, and Philotes, departed from Thebes, and went into many diuers lands, ſéeking their aduentures. And paſſing by Licie where Hercules was made king, on a day they came into Mi • imidonie, vnto the pallace of the King Eſon, where Iaſon was, which had enterpriſed for to ſaile to the Ile of Colchos, and made his things readie. When Hercules had béene feaſted of Iaſon and of Duke Peleus, and that he knew of the enterpriſe, that Iaſon would go and conquer the fléece of Gold, hee vowed and promiſed that hee would accompanie him And if fortune would be with him, he would aduenture to bring his enterpriſe vnto an end. What ſhall I make long proceſſe? Iaſon and Hercules made readie a right good ſhip, and went to the ſea, and renewed not their victuall till they came to the Port of Troy. And then they renewed 〈◊〉 them at the port, for the king Laomedon was then in Troy, which had fortified maruailouſly the Cittie againe: and knowing that there was landed at his Port a ſhippe full of Gréekes, hee ſent downe a man that commanded them rudely, that they ſhould departe thence, and that he was enemie to the Gréekes. Iaſon (as Captaine of the armie) anſwered coueteouſly the meſſenger of King Laomedon, and prayed him that hee might haue victuals for his money. The meſſenger anſwered him, that hee ſhould haue none there, vnleſſe they gat it with the ſword. Then Hercules might no longer tarie, but ſware to the Troyan, that if he might returne from the voyage that he had enterpriſed, that hee would yet once againe deſtroy Troy, and that he would not leaue one ſtone vppon another. With this concluſion Hercules and Iaſon departed from Troy, & by fortune they were brought to the port of Lemnos, whereof was a woman Ladie and Quéene, named Hypſyphyle, which waxed amorous of Iaſon, as it is conteined in the hiſtorie of Iaſon. In this port of Lemnos Hercules was aduertiſed, that thereby was a king named Phyneus, which ſuffered himſelfe to be goueruerned by an auaricious woman. Phyneus had béene married to another woman before, and had by her two ſonnes. Theſe two ſonnes were vnrightfully by their ſtepmother put to exile. For to ſay the verie truth, his ſecond wife was ſo corrupted with auarice, that ſhe tooke from the King his riches, and held greater ſtate then he. When Hercules had knowledge thereof, hee went and ſpake to king Phyneus, and to the Quéene, and ſhewed to them their vices in ſo good maner and faſhion, that the two children were called back from their exile, and that the king held his eſtate royall. Then returned Hercules into Lemnos, and tooke the ſea with Iaſon, and went into the •• e of Col • os, where Iaſon by the learning and induſtrie of Medea, conquered the ſhéepe with the fléece of gold, which he bare with him into Gréece. Then Hercules recommended greatlye Iaſon among his parentes and fréendes, and told them of the right great vnkindneſſe of the king Laomedon, and how that hée hadde ſworne for to deſtroye Troye for the rigor that the king Laomedon had doone vnto them. They ſwore all togither with Hercules the deſtruction of Troye, and concluded the day of theyr departure, and after made ready theyr ſhippes, and all that was neceſſary for them. And then Hercules helde ſo well his couenant in theyr army, that at the day concluded among them they entred into the ſea, and did ſo much trauaile that they landed at the porte of Troye, with ſo great an hoſt, that Laomedon durſt not forbid them the Porte.

Iaſon was at that tyme in a farre ſtraunge countrey. Hercules had with him many noble men, And among all other there were with him the king Thelamon, Aiax, the duke N • ſtor, Caſtor, Pollux, Theſeus and many kings and dukes At the landing of this porte, which was of ſtrong entrie, Hercules, that nothing doubted his enimies, made to ſownd and blowe vp trumpets and labours, and made ſo great a noyſe, and ſtirre, that the walles of Troy, and of the Pallace, redounded thereof, and that Laomedon ſéeing (out of one of his windowes) the hoſte of his enimies, was a right great while in a thought whither he might go to battaile againſt them, or no. It happened to him, that as he was thus penſiue, he beheld toward the market place, and ſawe there more then thirtie thouſand armed men: which enflamed his hearte in ſuch wiſe that he went and did arme him, and (all his thoughtes and penſiueneſſe put a parte) came to his people, whome he warned and deſired to doo their part and deuoyr. And after, himſelf, truſting in fortune, iſſued out into the fielde in order of battayle with good conduct: and although he ſuppoſed that Hercules was in the army landed at the Port, whom he doubted, he marched vnto his enemies which ioyed at his comming. And then beganne the Troyans and the Gréekes a right hote ſkirmiſh, with ſo great murther and manſlaughter, that at the ioyning there was many a man hurte. Hercules fayled not to ſmite and trouble his enemies: he caſt his eies on high, and ſaw the banner royall of Troy: he fought and ſmote downe on the right ſide and on the left ſide, and with his club he ſmote downe vnmeaſurably, that he came to the banner, and finding there Laomedon that did maruailes of armes vpon the Gréekes, he ſmote him with his club often times vpon his helme, in ſuch wiſe as he might not ſaue himſelfe, and that he pearced his club within his head and braine, and with one ſtroke he ſlew him among plentie of Gréekes lying dead on the ſea ſand, ending there his miſerable life.

After hee ſmote vpon them that bare the banner, and rent the banner, and then were the Troyans all diſcomforted and cryed: Let vs flie, let vs flie. And with this crie that was impetuous, they beganne to retyre and go backe vnto the Citie wéening to ſaue themſelues. But the Gréekes ſpoyled them with the poynts of their ſwords and cuttings of their ſharpe glaines, ſo mortally, that in ſleaing and killing the moſt parte fell dead like as the tempeſt had runne among them. They tooke the Cittie, ſo troubled with the death of the King Laomedon, that there was none or right little defence among them. In entring into the gate of Troy, Thelamon was the firſt man, and Hercules was the ſecond, and then Hercules founde well the hée did right high chiualries. Priamus was not at that time in Troy, but he was gone into the Eaſt by the commaundement of King Laomedon, after his returne from Thebes. What ſhall I ſay? fortune hauing caſt downe the King Laomedon (as is ſayde) by the ſtrong hand of Hercules. Beſides that, he put into Troy Hercules and his people, which brought them all to the • ewing of theyr ſwords. They entred into Ilion, and pilled it, and after did trie hauocke vpon all the treaſures of Troy. In likewiſe they tooke Exiona the daughter of the King, whom Hercules gaue vnto Thelamon, requiring him to take her, foraſmuch as he was the firſt that entred the Citie. And when they had taken all that they found good in Troy, for a finall vengeance, Hercules heat downe the Towers and buildings: and put the fyre therein: in ſuch wiſe, that there abode not a ſtone vppon an other, &c.

CHAP. X. ¶Howe Hercules and Affer aſſayled by battaile the Giant Antheon: and how they vanquiſhed him in battalle the firſt time.

AFter this generall deſtruction of Troy, when the Gréekes were departed, and Hercules had left them, the Gréekes returned into Grece, with great glorie, and Hercules went by the Sea ſéeking his aduentures, accompanied with Theſeus, and Philotes: and it happened him, that as he arriued at the port of Alexandria, he found in this port a great armie. When the Captaine of the armie ſaw him come to ankre, he knew by the enſignes of Hercules, that it was Hercules: and for that he had heard him recommended aboue all maner men whatſoeuer they were: then hee came vnto him all full of ioy, and ſayd to him, Lord of nobleneſſe and treaſure of vertue, among the people, moſt mightie, and among the kings moſt reſplendant in all glorious vertue, I ſalute you, and requeſt you, that I may be your ſeruaunt and friend. And thus ſaying, he was on his knées before Hercules, and in ſigne of humilitie, he kiſſed the earth. When Hercules ſaw the ſalutation and the maner of the doing of this man, he tooke him by the hand, and (lifting him vp frō the ground) ſaluted him, and after demaunded of him his name, and to whom that army belonged that he ſawe there? He anſwered him, that he was named Affer, ſonne of Madiane, the ſonne of Abraham, and that in that army was none other captayne nor chéefe but himſelfe, and that the Egyptians had ordeyned him duke and leader of this hoſte, for to go into Libie, for to deſtroye the countrey in vengeance of the euill and harmes that the tyraunt Buſyre, that was of Lybie hadde doone to them, in ſuche wyſe as hee well knew.

When Hercules had vnderſtood the name and the affayres of Affer, he tooke him for his fréend: and ſayd to him, that he would accompanye him to conquer Libie. After he thanked him, and brought him into a right rich ſhip, where he feaſted him as much as to him was poſſible. They had not long abiden there, but they went vnto the ſea with great gladneſſe, for the Egyptians were ſo ioyous and gladde to haue Hercules with them, that they thought and beléeued verily, that there might no miſhappe nor euill come to them. Hercules found in the ſaid ſhip of Affer, the wife and alſo the daughter of Affer, This daughter had to name Echée: ſhe was the moſt faire gentlewoman of all the world, and yong and freſh. By the daily ſight of her, Hercules became amorous of her, and required her to be his wife. Echée anſwered, that of her ſelfe ſhe might not accord to his demand: but ſhe ſaid, if fortune giue mee ſo great a grace that I might be your wife, I ſhould haue more cauſe to thanke the gods, then any wife liuing. Hercules was right well content with the Damoſell: and by her perſwaſion, called Affer, and required him that hée woulde giue to him his Daughter to bee his Wife. Affer thanked Hercules for that hée vouchedſafe to demaund his daughter: he that was the moſt excellent of nobles: and ſayd to him, that he ſhould take her and doo with her his will and pleaſure. Hercules eſpowſed and wedded Echee, by the conſent of Affer, and they lay togither, paying the due debte of mariage in ſuch wiſe that Echee conceyued of the ſéede of Hercules. What ſhall I make long proceſſe? Hercules and Affer ſayled ſo long that they found the porte of Lybye, where nowe ſtandeth Carthage, and there they arriued and tooke land, in a night which was cléere, and after they entred haſtely into the countrey, and beſéeged the Cittie of Lybie, without reſiſtance or gaynſaying.

In this Cittie was then a great giant named Antheon great aboue meaſure aboue other giants, the moſt ſtrong and the moſt conquering that was in all the partes of Europe and Libie, Cirene, Trypoly, Mountaynes and all the Iles enhabited in theſe countries vnto the Iles fortunate. This king then aduertiſed of the coming of the Egiptians, was paſſing angry, and ſware that neuer none of them ſhould returne agayne into Egipt.

Aſſoone then as he might he did cauſe his men to arme them and iſſued out of the cittie with a great company of Libyans, and had ſo great haſte to runne vpon the Egiptians, that he ſette no order among his people, whereof he tooke great harme? for when he came to the battaile, hée founde that Hercules had trayned his people, and ſet them in two battailes, of which he lead and conducted the firſt battaile. It happend ſo, that they of the ſayde companye of Hercules, by force of ſhot, bare thēſelues ſo valiantly, and with ſtrokes, that they brought to death more then fiftéene hundred Lybiens. When the ſhot fayled, Antheon ſprang into the greateſt preaſe, as the moſt valiant, and ſuppoſed wel to haue ſkirmiſhed with his enimies: but anon as Hercules ſawe him come, hée layd hand on his club, and put him foorth before and gaue him ſo great a ſtroke, that he made his head to bow on the left ſide. Antheon had his ſword lifted vppe for to haue ſmitten Hercules, when he receiued the ſtroke that Hercules gaue him, by which his ſtroke was broken. Neuertheleſſe he ſaid betwéene his téeth, that he would auenge him: ſo hee lifted vp his ſword againe, and ſmote Hercules ſo vehemently, that with the ſtroke he brake his ſhield. Then knew Hercules, that the giant was a man of great ſtrength. This notwithſtanding, he ſmote him the ſecond time with his club: and thus Hercules and Antheon gaue each other ſo great ſtrokes, that there came betwéene them of the two parties, Libians, and Egyptians. There was a great noyſe of clinking of ſwords and ſounding of the ſhields and helmes that were broken, and halberds that were diſmailed, ſhieldes quartered, and glaiues broken: there was the bloud largely ſhed on both parties. Hercules and Antheon were parted by force of the preaſe. Antheon by great ire ſmote without ceaſing vpon the fierce Egyptians: Hercules all broke the helmes largely with his club, and did with the Libians all his pleaſure, and brought ſo many to death with his club, that in little time he paſſed throughout the whole power of king Antheon many times, and in his way he couered the earth and the way that hée held all with dead Libians. The firſt ſkirmiſh was ſtrong and damageable to Antheon: for againſt one Egyptian that he flew with his ſword, Hercules made die with his club ten Libians. About Hercules was nothing but bloud, Hercules made the mountaines redounde with cries, the companies to tremble, the Libians to flie and go backe, and wan little gaine. What ſhall I ſay more? as long as the day endured he helde the battell in vigor, and about the euening, when Affer and Theſeus came to the fight, he beſtirred himſelfe in ſuch faſhion againſt Antheon, that he made him flie, all charged with horions and ſtrokes, and then in like wiſe fled after the Libians.

CHAP. XI. ¶How Hercules tooke king Athlas: and how he beganne to ſtudie the ſcience of aſtronomie, and the ſeauen liberall ſciences.

WHen Hercules ſaw the Libians turne into flight, he did cauſe to ſounde the retrait, for as much as it was late, and with great glorie returned into the place that he had choſen for to holde his ſiege at. His wife Echée came againſt him with open armes and be clipped and kiſſed him: ſhe holpe to vnarme him, and brought him freſh water for to waſh his face with, and there was made right good chéere of all the Egyptians. Contrary to this good chéere, the Libians were in the Citie and made great ſorrow, for they had loſt neare thirtie thouſand men: eſpecially Antheon made ſimple cheare, for he had good cauſe: for Hercules had ſo beaten him with his club, that hée might not helpe himſelfe, but went with great paine to bed, and with ſorrow ſent for his Phiſitions and Surgeons, which came and viſited him, and founde him all bruiſed, and ſaide to him, that it would bee well neare a moneth ere they could heale him Antheon conſidering his caſe, ſent and deſired of the Egyptians truce for the ſpace of a moneth, offering to them for to ſend them dayly a certaine number of cattell, and a right great quantitie of victuals. Then he made out his commaundements, and ſent vnto al the kings and princes that were his tributaries, and alſo vnto his neighbours, praying them that they wold come & ſuccor him with their men of arms, in the moſt haſty wiſe that they might. This truce ſo made, Hercules began to remember thē, that before time he had heard Philotes ſpeak of a king that reigned thereby named Athlas, and that he was the moſt wiſe man and cunningeſt of al the world, and that he dwelt in a Caſtle ſtanding on the top of a right high mountaine named Athlas, after the name of the ſame king. In this remembrance, Hercules being couetous of the ſcience of Athlas, called Philotes and ſaid to him, that hee would go into the Realme of the king Athlas, and that his intent was to ſéeke there his aduenture. Philotes anſwered and ſaide, that he could well leade and bring him into the Realme, for he knew the countrey. Then Hercules called Affer and Theſeus, and charged them, that they ſhoulde alway make good watch. And after tooke leaue of them and of his wife, ſaying that he would haſtily returne. This done, hée and thrée mariners with Philotes went vnto the ſea in a gallie-finely made and light, and ſayled and rowed into the ſea Mediterrane: they had ſpéedie winde and readie, and Fortune was good to them. In little while they came vnto the ſtraite of Gibraltar. And then Philotes ſhewed vnto Hercules the mountaine and the caſtle where Athlas was at that time abyding.

When Hercules ſawe the mountaine and the caſtle, he went and tooke land ioyouſly: after he tooke his clubbe, and commanded Philotes and his marriners for to abide them there. Then he went toward the mountaine, and it happened that he met with a man that diſcended downe from the hil, and he adreſſed him toward the ſaid man, for to heare ſome tydings, and demanded him from whence hée came? He ſaid, I come from the caſtle that ye may ſée yonder on high. Whither go ye, ſaid Hercules? vnto the Citie of Mercelie, anſwered the ſtranger: the king Athlas to whom I am ſeruant, hath ſent me thither to publiſh his commandement vnto the Citizens, that within ſixe dayes they ſhould be furniſhed with their armes, for to accompanie him to go vnto the warre of the great king of Libie, which requeſted inſtantly to haue his ſuccours. Wherefore if ye will ſerue him in this armie, and be his ſouldiour, go vp and ye ſhall finde him in his Caſtell ſtudying the ſcience of aſtronomie. The ſeruaunt of King Athlas with theſe wordes went forth on his way, and Hercules went vp into the mountaine, and came to the gate of the Caſtell, where hée found foure knights, that demaunded of him what he would haue? Hercules anſwered, that his will was for to ſpeake to the king, for certaine matters that touched him. The foure knights (not thinking but good) brought Hercules within a great hall, wherein were all the men of king Athlas, aſſaying them with ſwords and axes, foraſmuch as they had heard ſay, that they ſhould go to warre and they were all armed.

When theſe knights had brought thither Hercules, they gaue knowledge vnto the king, that a ſtrange giant aſked after him, and would not tell them the cauſe why? Then Athlas went downe, and found Hercules armed with his ſkinne of the lion, and aſked him what he was? Then he anſwered and ſaid, hee was Hercules that hath conquered Philotes and the garden with the ſhéepe of thy daughters: I am now come hither for to conquer thée with thy ſciences. Wherefore it behooueth thée, that thou do to me obeyſance, and giue ouer to helpe the great Antheon mine enemie, and that thou come to me. And if thou wilt not do ſo, arme thée haſtily, and defend thée with armes, and that I demaund of thée: and if thou wilt not conſent thereto by loue, I will make thée accord to it by force. Athlas was excéedingly diſcouraged when he knew by the mouth of Hercules that it was he that had late conquered Philotes, and had ſlaine the giant his fellow, taken his ſhéepe, and alſo newly had aſſayled by warre Antheon, to whom he had promiſed to giue ſuccours: and alſo conſidered, that he willed that he ſhould yéeld him to him: his heart then began in him to ſwell for anger and pride, and in great rage he ſaid to him O thou preſumptuous Hercules, how art thou ſo hardy to come alone before me: thou that I may not loue? Knowe thou that I haue had many a diſpleaſure by thine outrage, for Philotes was my right great friend: and nowe thou art come to renue this diſpleaſaunce, and wilt that I ſhould yéeld mée vnto thée, that is not mine intention, &c.

Athlas with theſe wordes went into a Chamber there faſt by, and commanded that euery man ſhould arme him, as they did. Hercules had alway his eie vpon him, to the end he ſhould not eſcape him. When he was armed, he came againſt Hercules, and chalenged him to the death. After he gaue him a ſtroke with his ſworde fiercely. With the crie and with the ſtroke, all they of the fortreſſe aſſayled Hercules. Then Hercules put himſelfe in defence, and laide about mightily by the rigour of his club, and with twelue ſtrokes he ſlue twelue of his enemies. After he hurt and wounded many other, and ſpared long the blood of Athlas. But in the end, foraſmuch as Athlas gaue great ſtrokes to Hercules, Hercules ſmote him vpon the helme, without imploying of all his ſtrength, and gaue him a wound in the head, that all aſtonied he bare him to the earth. From that time forth they of the fortreſſe, durſt no more aſſaile Hercules, nor they aduentured them not for to reſkew, nor to reléeue Athlas, but fled thence out of the Caſtell, and Hercules abode there alone with Athlas, and the dead bodies. So in the end when Hercules ſaw that they had giuen it ouer, he tooke Athlas, and made him to crie him mercie. After he went into his ſtudie, and tooke all his bookes, which he laded vpon a camel, and after returned vnto Athlas, and conſtrained him to follow him. And when Hercules had done in the Caſtel all his pleaſure, he departed accompanied with Athlas, and with his bookes, and brought him downe to the ſea ſide, to the place where Philotes abode him, &c.

When Philotes ſaw Hercules come with Athlas, and his bookes, he had great ioy, and tooke acquaintance with Athlas, who was ſo ſorrowfull that hée might not ſpeake: and then they entred into theyr Galley, and went vnto the

go unto the warre of the great King of Lybia, which requeſted inſtantly to have his ſuccour. Wherefore if ye will ſerve him in his Armie, and be his ſouldier, go up and yee ſhall find him in his Caſtle ſtudying the ſcience of Aſtronomie. The Servant of King Atlas with theſe words went on his way, and Hercules went up unto the Mountain, and came to the Gate of the Caſtle, where he found four Knights that demanded of him what he would have? Hercules anſwered, his will was to ſpeak to the King, for certain matters that concerned him. The four Kts. (thinking nothing but good) brought Hercules within a great Hall, wherein were all the men of King Atlas, aſſaying them with Swords and Axes, foraſmuch as they had heard ſay, that they ſhould go to Wars, and they were all armed.

When theſe Knights had brought Hercules thither, they gave knowledge unto the King, that a ſtrange Gyant asked after him, and would not tell them the cauſe why? Then Atlas went down, and found Hercules armed in a Lyons skin, and asked him what he was? then he anſwered, he was Hercules that hath conquered Phylotes and the Ga • den with the Shéep of thy Daughters: I am now come hither for to conquer thée with thy ſciences. Wherefore it behoveth thée that thou do to mée obeyſance, and give over to help the great Antheon mine enemie. And if thou wilt not do ſo, Arm thée haſtily, and defend thée with Arms, and that I command thée: If thou wilt not conſent thereto by love, I will make the accord thereto by force. Atlas was excéedingly diſcouraged, when he knew by the mouth of Hercules that it was he that had conquered Philotes, and had ſlain the Gyant his fellow, taken his ſhéep, and alſo newly had aſſailed by Warre Antheon, to whom hee had promiſed to give ſuccour: and alſo conſidered, that he willed he ſhould yéeld himſelf to him: his heart then began to ſwell for anger and pride, and in great rage he ſaid to him. O thou preſumptuous Hercules, how art thou ſo hardy as to come alone before mée? thou that I may not love? know thou that I have had many a diſpleaſure by thy outrage, for Philotes was my great friend: and now thou art come to renew this diſpleaſure, and that I yeild mée unto thée, is not my intention.

Atlas with theſe words went into a Chamber faſt by, and commanded that every man ſhould arme him, as they did, Hercules had alwaies his eye upon him: to the end that he ſhould not eſcape him. When he was armed he came againſt Hercules, and challenged him. After he gave him a ſtroke, with his Sword fiercely. With the cry and with the ſtroke all they of the Fortreſſe aſſailed Hercules. Then he put himſelf in defence, and laid about mightily by the rigour of his Club, and with twelve ſtrokes he ſlew twelve of his enemies. After he wounded many other, and ſpared long the blood of Atlas. But in the end, foraſmuch as Atlas, gave great ſtrokes to Hercules, Hercules ſmote him upon the Helme, without imploying all his ſtrength, and gave him a wound in the head, that all aſtonied he bare him to the earth. Then they of the Fortreſſe durſt no more adventure to aſſaile Hercules, neither durſt they adventure to reléeve A • las, but fled thence out of the Caſtle, and Hercules abode there alone with Atlas, and the dead bodies. So in the end when Hercules ſaw they had given it over, he took Atlas, and made him to cry him mercy. Then he went into his ſtudy, and took all his books, which he laded upon a Camel, and conſtrained Atlas to follow him. And when Hercules had done in the Caſtle all his pleaſure, he departed accompanied with Atlas, and with his books, and brought him down to the Sea ſide, to the place where Phylotes ſtayed for him.

When Phylotes ſaw Herc les come with Atlas, and his books, he had great ioy, and took acquaintance with Atlas, who was ſo ſorrowful that he could not ſpeak: then they entred into their Galley, and went unto the

Sea: Atlas was ſorrowful, and troubled with the wound he had in his head. Hercules requeſted him inſtantly, that he would teach him his ſcience. Atlas would in no wiſe do it at the beginning of his ſorrow: but when he had converſed and tarryed with Hercules, as well for the bounty he ſaw in him, as by the perſwaſion of Philotes, which affirmed that Hercules was the moſt noble and vertuous man that ever was, he began to teach him all his ſciences: wherein he learned and profited by quick and ſharpe wit, that he attained to all, and that afterward he became the beſt Phyloſopher, and the moſt perfect Aſtronomer in all the world. Thus ſtudying, Hercules returned with great honour into the Army of Affer, and found at his coming, that his Wife had brought forth a fair Son, which the Egyptians had Crowned King of Egypt, where hee raigned afterward, and was called Dedon.

When Affer ſaw Atlas, and knew how Hercules had vanquiſhed him, hee marvailed much of his proweſſe which was ſo great, and of his wiſdome that attained to ſuch high things. But Hercules bent all his wit and ſtudy to learn the ſcience. In the mean while a little and a little the time paſſed, and Antheon aſſembled a very great hoſte, and was all healed of his wounds, and the Truce failed and expired, whereat the Egyptians had great joy: for they yet hoped to have victory of their enemies. And the Lybians hoped to revenge them of the ſhame that Hercules had made them receive. When the Truce was expired, the day following Hercules made ready his battails of the one ſide, and Antheon ordained his on the other ſide. Antheon made thrée battails, the firſt of twelve thouſand fighting men, the ſecond of twenty thouſand, and the third battel of thirty thouſand. He then ordained himſelf King and chief Captain of the firſt battail: in the ſecond, he ordained the King of Getulie to be Governour: and in the third, he made the King of Cothulie. And then when he had well ſet them in array, and trained them, in a morning he made them to march joyouſly againſt his enemies, expecting nothing but the hour when Hercules would charge them.

CHAP. XII. How Hercules aſſembled his battaile againſt Antheon King of the Lybians, which he put to flight, and ſlew the King of Cothulie.

HErcules had made of his folk two battails, the firſt whereof he conducted. Affer and Theſeus guided the other. When he ſaw the Lybians march, which made the greateſt tumult and noyſe in the world, he went forth before, and his Company followed. Then began the Trumpets to ſound, and Tabours to make great noyſe: the cry was great, they began ſharpely the battaile, whereof Hercules and Antheon made the aſſay by a ſwift courſe, and with ſharp Swords ſmote ſo ſore together, that Antheon brake his Sword, and the Iron of the Sword of Hercules pierced the Shield of Antheon and his armes on his right ſide, by which he had a wound where the blood ſprang out. Antheon was almoſt dead with ſorrow when he felt the ſtroke, and ſaw that his Sword had done but little to Hercules: hée took his Sword, and Hercules took his, and they ſmote each other ſo hard, that Hercules bare Antheon unto the earth with one ſtroke, and had ſlain him, had not the Lybians runne upon Hercules on all ſides, they gave him ſo great an aſſault that hée knew not to whom he might attend. Then Hercules imployed his Sword upon the Lybians. The Egyptians aſſembled them eagerly upon their enemies. Antheon relieved himſelf all aſhamed of his fall: applying all his puiſſance and ſtrength to revenge him, not upon Hercules, but upon them of his party. This Antheon ſmote eagerly on the one ſide, and Hercules on the other. Antheon fought with great fierceneſſe and anger, and Hercules by Proweſſe. The fierceneſſe of Antheon was great, but the Proweſſe of Hercules was ſo exceſſive great, that the Lybians fled him, and when they ſaw him they trembled for fear, at this battel, before the Sword of Hercules all bloody. Then the great routs of the Lybians were ſore afraid, and kept no array: he ſmote off heads, and laid them down to the earth: his folk that were deſtroyed by Antheon hee gathered together again. He made ſuch work that the Lybians had the worſe, and Antheon ſent haſtily to the King of Cothulie, that hee ſhould come to his help.

The King of Cothulie at the ſending of Antheon, departed, wéening to have come to the skirmiſh: but when Affer and Theſeus ſaw him, they went againſt him, and hindred him. Then began the fight ſo great and mortal, that Theſeus and Affer ſlew the King of Cothulie, beat down his Banners, his recogniſances, and his Cotuliens, and ſmote ſo ſore upon their bodies, that they went back, and were conſtrained to cry for help. The King of Getulie ſéeing this evil adventure, came unto

the reſkew, and found the Cothulians all diſcomforted. At his comming, the crye, the noyſe, the tempeſt and ſtrokes beganne to renew: many a valiant act, and manie a proweſſe was ſhewes there. Many ſhewed their vertue and ſtrength, and manie were ſlaine there. Theſeus did there maruailes, but alway the Getulians helde them togither, and fought againſt Theſeus by the ſpace of thrée houres, and loſt but few of their people vnto the time that Hercules brought them of the battel of king Antheon to diſcomfiture, & made them to flie, to ſaue themſelues with the Getulians, that then diſcouraged themſelues in ſuch wiſe that after they had ſéene the battayle of king Antheon diſranked and broken they might not lift vp their armes to defend them, but were ſlayne by little and little: and finally, they were brought to ſo ſtraight limits and boundes, that they wiſt not where to ſaue them. And then they fled out of the place, diſperſed by the fieldes and champaines, without leaders, guides, or captaines. And then Hercules put himſelfe forth in the preaſe al before, among them that fled firſt of the Libians, ſo that he came to the gate of the cittie with them, and there he began to ſmite ſo vnmeaſurably, that he put to death the Lybians flying thither, and the porters, and them that would reſiſt him. Alſo he made the Egiptians to enter into the town. And Antheon ſéeing fortune againſt him in al points, fled into his pallace not accompanied as a king: but went at large in to the fields, by the conduct of foure moores only, that brought him into Mauritania after.

CHAP. XIII. ¶How Hercules fought againe, againſt king Antheon, and put him vnto the death.

BY this maner Hercules and the Egiptians entred into Lybie, and ſubdued it by force of armes. And Antheon was fled into Mauritania, where he aſſembled new folke haſtily. They of Libie yéelded them al to the mercy of Hercules. When Hercules had thus daunted them of Lybye, and theyr neighbours, ſéeing Antheon, he made Affer king, and named it after him Affrique, and ſayd that he fought not for his ſingular proffit & couetouſnes but for lyberalytie, and for to enhaunce vertue. O moſt valiant and noble Hercules, there was neuer man borne among the paynims more liberall, more noble nor more vertuous. He would not be king of all the world: he was liberall, and imployed his conqueſt right well and wiſely, and gaue all gis gifts aduiſedly. When he had made Affer king, he enquired what lawes they held, and eſtabliſhed among them the Sacrament of mariage. For at that time the women were there all commune, and when it happened that the women hadde children, they gaue them to the men after their Phiſiognomies: and thus telleth Ariſtotle in his politikes.

Beſides this ſacrament, Hercules ordeyned vnto the Affricans, that they ſhould hold the lawes of Gréece, and by right wiſe and politique gouernment, made the Affricans lyue reaſonably and vertuouſly. And aboue all other things, he made them haue the order of mariage in great reuerence. When Hercules had ordeined all this, tydings came to him, that Antheon was come againe to chaſe him with manye Moores, that followed him. Then he returned toward Antheon and the Moryans, and there ſmote them downe with his club ſo deadly that he made it red with theyr bloud, and ſlewe them all and put them to flight ſo cruelly, that Antheon abode alone againſt Hercules, and fought againſt him body to body by great ſtrength, and gaue him many ſtrokes hard to beare.

But Hercules gaue to him ſo many and ſo large ſtrokes that the Giant wiſt not how to ſaue him, and wéened to haue fled. But Hercules that ranne as ſwiftly as an horſe ranne after him, and embraced him in his armes with all his might, and lifted him vppe into the ayer, and bare him ouer the hoſte of the Maurytanes. And when hée came nighe vnto them, hée caſt him downe diſpiteouſlye to the earth, that all to bruſed and forfruſhed Antheon abode there dead. And his death turned vnto the Moores ſo great abaſhement, that they loſt all theyr ſtrength and puiſſaunce, and were ſlayne by great exceſſe without remedy: they loſt there ye king Antheō, ye king of Mauritane, ye king of Tingie, and many other kings, and all the honourable of the battaile: for in the end they all fled, in which flight was taken and ſubdued to the ſegnorie of Affrique the Citie of Mauritans.

CHAP. XIIII. ¶How Hercules and Theſeus fought togither agaynſt the two Damoſels of Scythie, &c.

IN remembrance of this victorie, Hercules did make in the field a ſtatue or image of a man ſléeping, in the place where he had put to death Antheon, and there vnder hée did burie the bodie of Antheon. And anon as the image, which was made of the bone of an Elephant was ſet vp there, the necke of the the image began to ſound like as it had bene a man ſléeping, wherefore the Moores had afterward the ſepulchre in great reuerence, and worſhipped the idoll. After this ſtatue thus accompliſhed by Hercules, he went by Tingie and Ampeloſte, and by many other Countries, and conquered all the countrey that now is called Affrique, and gaue all to Affer, and Affer returned into Libie, and there he found Echée his wife dead by a grieuous ſicknes: wherfore he tooke & made ſorrow ſo great, that it was maruell. Then to forget this ſorow, he tooke leaue of king Affer, and the Egyptians, and had thought to haue departed thence, but as he was in taking leaue, a damoſell ſtrangely arayed came vnto him and ſaid, Lord of Libie, the Quéene of Scythie, Ladies of Egypt, of Cappadocie and of Aſie, haue ſent me vnto you: which ladies haue conquered the ſaid contries, in taking vengeance of the miſfortune of their huſbands now late dead: and haue abandoned their Countrey becauſe of the great outrage that Vexores King of Egypt made in Scythie. And as aſmuch as ye be of the linage of the Egyptians, they ſend to you, that ye ſubmit you vnto their obeyſance, for to do with you that that ſhall pleaſe them: or elſe, that ye come againſt them in battaile, for to eſchew the effuſion of blood. And they let you know, that they haue good right to ſubdue you, and that if there be among you two knights, that agaynſt two of them will do feates of armes to trie their liues, they will deliuer to you two Ladyes in place conuenable, vpon condition, that if the Ladyes vanquiſh, and ouercome you, yee ſhall bée holden as vanquiſhed, and bée a • their commaundement: and if your men ouercome the Ladyes, they ſhall bée reputed as ouercome, and ſhall bée ſubiect vnto you.

Hercules hearing this gréeting and meſſage of the Ladyes, aunſwered vnto the meſſenger. Damoſell, ſince that the Ladies of Scythie hée ſo chiualrous, that they haue conquered the great Realmes of Egypt, of Cappadoce, and of Aſia, they be ſore for to doubt. Neuertheleſſe for to eſchewe the effuſion of bloud, and for to defend the Affricans from their bondage, ye ſhall returne vnto them and ſay, that the battell of the two knights agaynſt two ladyes, is accorded and agreed vnto them, for to be done to morrow, vpon the condition that ye haue ſaid. Then Hercules, Affer, and many other ſwore and promiſed to hold theſe things, and did great honour and reuerence vnto the Damoſell.

The Damoſell hauing done her meſſage, as is ſaid, returned vnto the Ladies, which were entred a great way in Affrique, and tol • to them worde for worde, the anſwere of Hercules. The pr • ncipall or miſtreſſe of all theſe Ladies, was named Synope, and had two ſiſters, ſo expert and ſtrong in in armes, that they dread no knight of the world, the one was named Menalippe, and the other Hyppolita. Anon as theſe Ladies had receyued theſe tydings of the Affricanes, they had great ioy, and holding opinion that Affrique was woonne by the ſtrength of Hypolite, and Menalippe, which did maruailes in armes, they ordeyned that they ſhould fight with the two Knights: and ſo for to do, they warned Hyppolite an Menalippe, which were on the morrow readie in the fields.

At the houre that was ordayned, Hercules and Theſeus (ſitting on two ſtrong horſes with a great companie of Affricanes,) rode into the place that the Ladyes had choſen for to do feates of armes in. There were the two Ladyes abyding, in a fayre place armed and well mounted on good ſtéedes, and by them were the other Ladies in great number. As ſoone then as Hercules and Theſeus had eſpied the two Damoſels, they made them that followed to ſtand, and come no neare, and ſent vnto the Damoſels, to wit what they would do. The Damoſels aunſwered, that they abode the two knights, and that they were readie to do déedes of armes againſt them, vnder the condition of their quarrell. And if they were come, they would come forth.

Hercules and Theſeus, with this anſwere tooke their ſpeares, and ſpurred their horſes, and made ſigne vnto the Damoſels. And they furniſhed with Shieldes and with Speares, ran agaynſt them ſo chiualrouſly, that it ſéemed that they helde of heauen, not of earth, and at the coping of their ſharpe ſpeares, the ſtrokes were ſo huge and great, on both ſides, that Hyppolita and Theſeus bare each other vnto the earth: and in like wiſe did Menalippe and Hercules. The Affricans maruailed much to ſée the two Princes borne downe: and yet the Ladies of Scythia maruayled much more of the Damoſels, &c.

When the Knights on the one ſide, and the Damoſels on the other ſide, found themſelues lying on the earth, ſhame and abaſhment ſmote them vnto their hearts. Neuertheles, each of them got them vp as lightly, and with great courage tooke their ſwords, and approched each other, and charging and ſmitting the one vpon the other ſo fiercely, that the Ladies and the Knights felt the ſtrokes, Hyppolita purſued her man Theſeus, and Menalippe held her vnto Hercules. The ſtrokes of Hippolita were great, and did great griefe vnto Theſeus. Theſeus enforced himſelfe ſtrongly to auenge him, and might not well come to his purpoſe. Hercules put vnder and ouercame Menalippe lightly with his ſword, and put her in his mercie, but Hippolita mainteyned her force ſo mightily agaynſt Theſeus, that ſhe had put him to foyle, had not Hercules béene, that ſayd to him: Brother, what ſhall this be? where is the proweſſe of Theſeus? Shall that be daunted by the chiualrie of a Damoſell? If it be ſo, certainly all men ſhall haue ſhame of your diſhonour.

Theſe words began to quicken, and to wake againe the blood of Theſeus that was afore aſléepe, and to lighten the courage, in ſuch wiſe that he recouered a new force and ſtrength, and put himſelfe forth, and began to ſmite with ſuch proweſſe, that he made the Damoſell recant, and tooke from her, her ſworde, and conquered her: whereof the Ladyes were much gréeued and ſorrowfull, and in eſpeciall the Quéene Synope, which then ſent to Hercules her armes, in token that ſhe was vanquiſhed, praying him that he would yéeld againe and render the two Damoſels. And Hercules tooke the armes of the Quéene, and ſent to her Menalippe, and made peace with her for the Affricanes, vpon condition, that ſhe ſhould giue Hyppolita in mariage to Theſeus, which was amorous of Hyppolita. So then the wedding was made in Affrique with great honor and worſhip. And the Ladies hearing tell of the maruaylous acts and déedes of Hercules, prayſed him all, and held themſelues happie and fortunate to be vanquiſhed of him.

CHAP. XV. ¶How Hercules began to waxe amorous of Deyanira: and how Achelous & Hercules had battaile the one againſt the other: and how Achelous was vanquiſhed.

AFter the conqueſt of theſe ladyes, Theſeus tooke leaue of Hercules and of Affer, and returned into his countrey, for to bring home his lady, and went to the ſea, for to go into Calcedony which lyeth in the oppoſite of Achaie & of Arcadia, for to ſée a fayre ladye of excellent beautie, that he had heard greatly recommended by a Calcedonien that was in his companie. He did ſo much, what by ſea and by land, that he came into Calcedonie. The king of that place had to name Oeneus, and had two daughters, the one named Deyanira, and the other Gorge. Deyanyra was the fayreſt, and that was ſhe that Hercules came for to ſée. When Oeneus had vnderſtanding and knowledge that Hercules came into his countrey, he had great ioy, and went againſt him, and receyued him embracing him ſo honourablye as was to him poſſible. In entring into his pallace, the Quéene and his two daughters Gorge and Deianira welcommed Hercules. Incontinent as Hercules caſte his eyes vpon Deyanira, that was the moſt fayreſt woman that euer he ſawe, and that ſhe by deſire right déepe was ſettled and rooted in the moſt déepe place of his heart, he felt himſelfe rauiſhed meruailouſly. This deſire entred into Hercules all full of rayes of loue, and pearſed into his heart as ſodaynlye as the rayes of the ſunne paſſe through the glaſſe.

Deyanyra had ſo much beautie, and was ſo well accompliſhed and ſo gliſtering and ſhoone among the ladyes, that to her might be made no comparyſon, not all onely in beautie, but with that in wiſedome and bountie. She was the moſt precyous treaſure of Calcedonie: and thither came many Ladyes & gentlewomē and other. Hir neighbors were al amorous of her, and eſpecially the king Achelous that was ſtrōg and puiſſaunt. This king had great ſeignory, and marched thorough the realme of Calcedonie. When then Hercules had béene there a ſpace, in paſſing the time ioyouſly, and in beholding the behauior of Deyanira, it happened on a day that the meſſenger of king Achelous came to Oeneus, and ſayd to him, that Achelous demaunded of him, if he would giue him his daughter: and that if he would not giue her to him at this time, he would moleſt and gréeue his countrey, and would make him warre. At this meſſage Oeneus was troubled, and anſwered the meſſenger, that on the morrow he would giue him an anſwere. All that day Oeneus was penſiue, and ſorry, and abode alone: and for to paſſe his melancholy, he came to Hercules. When Hercules ſawe him ſo penſiue he adiured him in earneſt wiſe that he ſhould tell him the cauſe of his penſiuenes: who tolde it him, and ſayde. Lord Hercules, ſince it pleaſeth you to know of mine anoiance and gréefe, I will anon tell you the cauſe. There is hereby a king my neighboure named Achelous, great and fierce and proude, which many times hath required to haue to his wife Deyanira my daughter. I haue not béene in will to accord the mariage, for aſmuch as I knowe this king a man of right euill life. And for this cauſe I haue had many menaces of him, and alſo this day his meſſenger is yet come againe to me and hath ſayde to mée, that if I giue him not my daughter at this time, he will make mée war. Certes Hercules, if ye ye ſée me penſiue, it commeth to me by this occaſion, for I haue not yet giuen him his aunſwere, but I muſt giue it him to morrow.

Neuertheleſſe, I haue concluded in my ſelfe that I will not giue vnto him my daughter. And now when I ſée verily, that by the refuſe of my daughter, it muſt néedes be that the war be open betwéene the aforeſayde king Achelous and me, know well that I am diſpleaſed: for warre is the eternall deſolation of the countrey, perdition and waſt of the people and of goods.

Sir (ſaid Hercules) it is néedefull vnto a man that he take and beare all that fortune will. As ye ſay, warre is not increaſing of people, but dimunition, yet by that extremitie it behooueth to paſſe, It is expedient that a man reioyce in his right. Right comforteth the courage of a man, and the courage of a man comforted, bringeth him often times to glorious victorie. A brute beaſt diſgarniſhed of reaſonable wit, fighteth for his hole and neſt, with his clawes, with féete, with his téeth, and with his bill. What ſhall a man ſenſible and endowed with wit and reaſon, do with any aſſault (and namely in his owne land and territorie?) Nature willeth and inſtructeth that where corporall force faileth, vigour and vertue of courage worketh, and that they fight for their countrey. Take courage then in your right, and ſay your intent vnto your enemies: ye haue receiued mée worſhipfully, & in my receiuing theſe tydings that be come, I wil help you if it be neede: and I ſuppoſe if Achelous aſſaile you, he ſhall repent him.

With theſe words the king Oeneus comforted himſelfe greatly, and the day drewe ouer. On the morrow Oeneus called the meſſenger of Achelous, and ſaid to him, that he ſhould come no more to demaund his daughter: and that he was not minded to giue her to his maiſter: and furthermore, if he mooued warre againſt him for this cauſe, hee had intention to defende himſelfe vnto the death of the laſt man of his people. The meſſenger returned with theſe words, and tolde them to Achelous and all that hée found with him. Achelous was euill content with king Oeneus, and as hee that was ouermuch ſmitten with the loue of Deyanira, beganne to aſſemble his men of armes, in intention to make warre on king Oeneus, and to take from him his Daughter. Hercules was then in Calcedonie, and often times he was with Deyanira in gracious conferences. He found her ſo well adreſſed in all honeſt maners, that all day he was the moſt part with her, and in the night he did nought but dreame and thinke on her: howbeit, he ſayd nothing to her that touched his amorous deſires, willing firſt to ſhewe there his power in armes. It happened on a day he opened a window that was by the garden of Deyanira, and caſting his eyes downe, he ſawe Deyaninira, that ſate vppon a gréene place, accompanied with many Ladyes and Gentlewomen. Then hee ſet all his minde to contemplate the exceſſiue beautie of her. After he deſired her, and in coueting and deſiring ſaid. O Deyanira, thou that haſt not the prerogatiue to know the hearts and the thoughts of men, if I ſhould ſay to thée the tenth part of the loue and deſire I haue to thée: thou mighteſt not beléeue it. I haue gone many a countrey, and ſéene mannie a Realme and many a treaſure, I haue deſired many a thing. But of all, for to come to my wiſhed bliſſe, I was neuer in ſo great thought as I am for to get thy grace.

The ſame houre that Hercules ſpake by himſelfe, Deyanira was not idle: ſhee hadde Hercules in her minde, and remembrance, & in hir heart, then being rich in the points of loue, ſowen betwéene variations of hope and deſpayre, was eſpryſed in all her veynes with the heate of that fire that burneth amorous hearts. This fire burning, was ſtrong and very hard to quench, or to couer the right pearcing ſparkle. Shée lay downe then vpon the graſſe, and beganne to ſay in her minde. Alas Hercules, what ſhall Deyanira do? ſhe may not come to attaine vnto your loue, I was wont not long ſince, not to daigne to behold a man, and then ſaid, that neither Prince nor King ſhould haue my loue. Nowe I am all of another nature, and deſire no other thing, but that I might bee your wife. I haue ſuppoſed to haue remained and continued a ſtable virgin, and I only was diſdainer of men, contrary to the requeſts and admonitions of the ladies: theſe be nowe farre other tydings. with theſe words ſhe ceaſed a little, and beganne to thinke on many other things. At this point, as ſhe thought on Hercules, and Hercules on her, tydings came thither, that Achelous was comming for to beſiege the Citie, by land and by ſea, and that he was very neare by. For theſe tydings aroſe in the pallace a great murmuring, that came to the eares of Hercules and of Deyanira: their ſpirits were trauerſed in ſuch faſhion, that Hercules left to behold Deyanira, and the damoſell left to thinke on Hercules, and both two went vnto the king Oeneus.

Anon as Hercules came vnto the king, and that the King ſaw him, he went againſt him, and ſaid to him, that his enemies were verye neare the Citie, Hercules anſwered ioyouſly, that it behooueth to go feaſt them: and willed that he put his people in armes. At this anſwere of Hercules, the king did ſounde to armes, and with this ſound all Calcedonie was mooued, and each man made him readie. Hercules and his Gréekes were ready in a little ſpace. The Calcedonians aſſembled by great companies in the pallace. When they were aſſembled, the king and Hercules brought them into the field, and Hercules put them in order: that done, he did cauſe them to march, and the Calcedonians and Gréekes ſo ſped them on an after dinner, that they came and found their enemies, and approched them ſo nigh, that there was nothing to do but to ſmite and lay on. Hercules had made two battailes, one and the firſt with his people, and the other with the Calcedonians. When they came to the poynt to méete, Hercules went to the Calcedonians, and in the preſence of the king ſayde to them. Lo héere yee may ſée your enemies that ſette little by you, for they be come into your Lordſhippe to aſſayle you. I pray you that the great outrage of them abate not, nor miniſh your courage. Ye ought herein to haue the fierceneſſe of a Lion, the puiſſance of an Elephant, and bée gréedie as a Griffon, for to deliuer you without ende, from the enmitie of king Achelous, in kéeping your countrey, your dominion, your honour, your treaſures, your wiues, your children, and that more is, your liues. Be ye then ſtudious to doe well, be ye inflamed with deſire of vengeance, be ye couetous to get worſhip and glorie. If ye ſhew not your ſelues valiant at this time, ye may not haue any thing but beggerie, or ſeruitude to death: for your enemies will doe vnto you all the euill of the world, if they haue victory ouer you. Theſe wordes wrought in the hearts of the Calcedonians, and gaue to them courage marueilouſly. And all they with one right good will deſired the battell. When Hercules had finiſhed his exhortation, hee went to the battell: for it was come to the point to fight. Then were there great cries on the one ſide and on the other: tabors, trumpets, clarions, harneſſe, and weapons began to ſound: knights began to ſtirre at the entrie of the battell. Hercules and the Greeks ſhot and drewe largely vpon their enemies, and made Achelous all abaſhed, foraſmuch as hee hoped not to haue founde ſo great reſiſtance with the Calcedonians. Then they caſt their eyes vpon the banner of Hercules, and ſeeing the great Lion that was painted therein, they began to imagine that there might be Hercules, of whom was ſpoken thorowout all the world, for his vertues and his ſtrength.

When they were thus imagining, the ſhot failed, with great ſlaughter of them of the partie of Achelous. When the ſhot was ſo failed, Hercules tooke his ſword, & went vp and downe among them of Achaie, that were in th • firſt front of the battell of Achelous, and there made an hole ſo great, that the Calcedonians & the Iconians wan vpon them at the firſt ioyning, and made the other partie to recule, and goe backe, whereof Achelous had great ſorrow: and hee tooke to him twentie knights which were choſen, and came & ranged with them there, where Hercules ſcattered and brake the battell of the Achaians. There hee approoued his courage luſtily. This ſtrong giant, and his horſemen ſo valiantly fought, that the Gréekes entring taried and abode, and alſo Hercules: for they died their ſwoordes and the earth with their bloud, and beat downe many Iconians. And there was the ſtrife ſo great, that men might ſée nothing els but heades and armes flie into the fielde. Hercules ſmote no ſtroke but it coſt to Achelous the death of a man. Achelous in like maner ſtroke for ſtroke ſmote down one of his enemies. The reſidue of their folke did the beſt they could, now before, now behinde, and yet might neuer the Achayans confound and put backe their aduerſaries, howbeit they were alway foure againſt one: and the Iconians were in great number, and they had alway freſh people and new. In this maner the two puiſſaunces fought together more then foure houres. Loue wrought ſore there, in Hercules and in Achelous, both two made their ſwordes to flouriſh couered with bloud. They met oft times and ſmote ech other, but neuer durſt Achelous abide before the ſworde of Hercules, for the horible ſtrokes that hee ſawe Hercules giue, but he put him in the preaſe aſſoone as hée had ſmitten him, or had angred him.

In this battaile Hercules did wonders and maruailes. Oeneus tooke a great pleaſure to beholde him, and the Achayans had therein diſpleaſure, for they that ſaw him, were no more aſſured to eſcape the death, then he that fa • leth the ſword in his necke in the hand of a tyrant. There receiued no manne a ſtroke of him, but he abode in the place: he made ſo great a ſlaughter, that no man can well write it. In the end, king Oeneus with all his Calcedonians came to the battaile: in his comming the Achayans receiued loſſe vpon loſſe, and perill vpon perill. The king Oeneus made many of his enemies to die. Hercules ſhewed his puiſſance more and more: by his well doing, he put the Achayans all out of aray, and after vnto flight: and the loſſe of the field turned greatly vnto the damage of king Achelous: for Hercules chaſed him ſhamefully into his ſhippes, and made him to looſe twelue thouſand Achayans, &c.

CHAP. XVI. ¶How Hercules put to the worſt king Achelous: and how he eſpouſed Deianira.

AFter this victorie, when Hercules ſawe that the king Achelous ſaued himſelfe by the ſea, he called the king Oeneus, & ſayd to him, that he would purſue his enemie, & that he would deliuer the world of him: and after tooke an hundred of his choſen men, and tooke leaue of the king Oeneus, and went to the ſea, following after Achelous, recommending him to Gorge & to Deianira. In this night Oeneus after the departing of Hercules, returned into Calcedonie, and tolde his wife and his daughters the high proweſſe that Hercules had done in the battaile, and how he had chaſed his enemies, and how he was gone after with two hundred men. The ladies Gorge and Deianara were right ioyous of the victorie, but it grieued them ſore that Hercules with ſo litle a company purſued Achelous: and aboue all other, Deianira was greatly vexed and grieued at the enterpriſe of Hercules, ſo ſore that ſhe went into her chamber, and was conſtrained to wéepe, and not to haue ioy in heart vntill the returne of Hercules. For to returne vnto the purpoſe touching Hercules, when he was put to the purſuit of Achelous, as is ſayd, he entred into his realme, and followed him ſo nigh, that hee was conſtrained to withdrawe himſelfe in a right ſtrong caſtle ſtanding by the ſea. Hercules beſieged Achelous in this caſtle. When Achelous ſawe that Hercules purſued him with ſo little a companie as with two hundred men onely, hee called his friendes and his leaders of menne, and among other things tolde them, that it was a ſhame for them to ſuffer themſelues to be beſieged with ſo little a number of people. They anſwered, that he had ſayd trueth: and concluded, that the ſame houre they woulde iſſue out, and raiſe & breake the ſiege, and foorthwith they ſounded to armes with ſhort counſell. It was not long after that they iſſued out of the caſtle, but Hercules eſpied them, and knewe that they came to the battell: he ſet his men in aray, after hee went alone before vnto his enemies, as he that doubted of nothing. When Achelous ſaw him come, he began to make a great ſigh, and cried vnto his people, vpon him: ſaying that it was he with the clubbe that had chaſed him out of Calcedonie, and promiſed great giftes vnto them that beſt belaboured him with ſtrokes. But when his folke knew that it was Hercules, they made curteſie ech to other for to go before, and trembling as the leafe on the tree, they durſt not abide the weight of the clubbe: but without ſmiting of any ſtroke turned their backs, and fled vnto the caſtle.

Achelous ſéeing the behauior of his folke, and the dread and feare that they had of Hercules, wéened that he ſhould haue died for ſorrow: ſo he went and entred againe with them into the caſtle. And Hercules returned with his people, laughing at the poore dealing of his enemies. Hercules beganne then to thinke on Deianira, and Achelous beganne to imagine how hee might annoy the Calcedonians: hee had there one of his captaines that ſayde vnto him: Sir, yee know well that your ſtrength may not compare vnto the ſtrength of your enemies: we be tenne againſt one, but that may nothing helpe vs: for, alonely the clubbe of the mighty giant that is with them, is enough for to bury vs all, and alſo for to deſtroy your realme. Conſider ye then, ſince it is ſo, that open puiſſance and plaine ſtrength may not be vſed at this time, it is expedient to imagine ſome ſubtiltie, for to gréeue the Calcedonians: and it is mine aduice that there ſhall be made a great flaming light in the ſea, ſuch as I ſhall well deuiſe, ſo as by that meanes they that haue beſieged vs, may be deceiued lightly. This flaming light muſt be by night, and it ſhall be great and forcible: we will make it ſecretly: aſſoone as our enemies ſhal ſee it, they wil leape out of their tentes, and will goe vnto the ſea for to ſee the marueile, peraduenture without any armes, for they dreade nor feare vs not, and then wee will ſet on them, and ſhall finde them vnfurniſhed and vnpurueyed of their armes, & conſequently it may enſue, that of them all we ſhall make a notable riddance. &c.

When Achelous heard this counſell, it ſeemed to him good, and hee would that it were put in effect in ſuch wiſe as he had deuiſed. The deuiſer did make an hundred torches, which were finiſhed in fifteene dayes. During theſe fifteene dayes, Hercules aſſailed many times the caſtle, where Achelous was in, but he might neuer do any thing thereto, for the fortreſſe ſtood vpon the ſea, and in a ſtrong countrey, and might not bee gotten by aſſault, and Achelous might haue no ſuccours from no part: for, betwéene this caſtle and Achaye was a great countrey. When the fifteene dayes were paſſed, and the torches were made, on a night when it was peaceable from winde & ſtorme, they that carried the torches, iſſued out of the caſtle, foure of them vnto the hauen, where was left but one little boat which was on groūd, and had not in long time afore bene put to the ſea. And if ye demand where the ſhippes were become that Achelous brought to this port, I ſay to you, that Hercules had cauſed to take them, and ſent them into the ſea, to the intent that Achelous ſhould not eſcape him, nor take away the ſhippes by night. The Achayans then came to this litle boat lying on the ground, and plied them that they brought it aflote on the Sea as ſecretly as they could, and entred therein, with all that to them was neceſſary. And the king Achelous put himſelfe in ambuſhment with a thouſande of his men, in a place nigh whereas him ſeemed that the Calcedonians woulde goe out for to ſee the light that ſhould be made. Then when they that were in the ſea, knewe that it was time to light their torches, they ſet them a fire and put them round about the maſt, wherein were made as many holes as was torches. And ſo as they had imagined, they did. Anon the knights that kept the watch of the hoſt of Hercules ſawe it, and ſore marueiling at this light, awoke Hercules and his fellowes, and ſhewed them the light.

Aſſoone as Hercules ſaw the brightneſſe of the torches, he would knowe what it was: and then he approched the bancke of the ſea and his company with him, and had not béene long there, when the king Achelous did cauſe to light an hundred torches that hee had prouided, and after he iſſued out of his ambuſhment with his thouſand men, and ranne vpon Hercules, and aſſailed him and all his men fiercely. But when Hercules ſawe them diſcouer themſelues, he ſet his people in order in the beſt maner he might, by the light of the ſtarres, and receiued his enemies couragiouſly, where began a right dolorous battaile: for the one ſmote on the other very felonouſly, and there were many wounded and dead. The ſkirmiſh was great. Achelous thought to ſkirmiſh, but he was ſkirmiſhed with himſelfe, vnto the effuſion of his bloud: for Hercules among all other ſmote him on the helme, that he foundred, and gaue him a wound on his head that the bloud guſhed out: and moreouer, hee tooke him, and deliuered him to twelue of his men to kéepe. There were great cries, and great aboundance of ſtrokes of ſwordes. Then were the torches quenched and put out by the force of the ſmiting of the Achayans, which deſired greatly to reſcue their king: and ſo they abandoned their liues in the heat. But when their torches were quenched a litle and a litle, they began to coole them, and withdraw them, for they ſawe nothing at all. When they were withdrawen, Hercules aſſembled his folke, and ſayd to them, that he would goe aſſay if he might take the caſtle in this trouble, and that they ſhoulde followe him hardily and fiercely: and anon after, when he ſawe his enemies returne vnto the caſtle, he ranne after and ſtayed them, and put himſelfe in the thickeſt of them, and ſmiting with his club on the right ſide and on the left ſide, he made a right large place and way. And by this way he lead his people vnto the gate of the caſtle, where he entered with them that fled, and there made ſo great a ſlaughter of his enemies, that with litle reſiſtance, that ſame night he put to death twelue hundred, and the other fled into the citie of Patrace, from whence they were. In this battell, and in the battell that had béene in Calcedonie, all the men of Achaye were ſlaine, except about a foure hundred, which ſaued themſelues by flying: for Achelous had taken all his men with him, his countrey and his citie Patrace was all deſtroyed. When Hercules had taken the caſtle, afterward he went into the countrey and into the citie of Patrace: and entering into all places without any reſiſtance, he ſet ouer this realme into the hande of king Oeneus, and he abode not long after that he had ſubdued this realme, but he departed and returned into Calcedonie as haſtily as he might for to ſée Deianira: and there he was receiued with ſo great glory, ioy & triumph, that no man can rehearſe ne write. The Poets report and write this conqueſt that Hercules made vpon Achelous, faining that Achelous fought firſt in guiſe of a man, and that then he was vanquiſhed: after he changed himſelfe in a guiſe of a ſerpent. This is to be vnderſtood, in ſubtilneſſe and in malice, as he did in aſſailing Hercules by night. To conclude, hée fought in the guiſe of a bull, and that Hercules brake his one horne: that is to be vnderſtoode, that at the laſt Achelous was fierce as a bull, for hee died well nigh for pride & ſorrow that he was taken: and that Hercules brake his horn, that is to be vnderſtood that he brake his realme and deſtroyed it.

CHAP. XVII. ¶How Neſſus tooke Deianira from Hercules when hee paſſed with her ouer the riuer: and how Hercules ſlew Neſſus with an arrow.

GReat was the feaſt then, that the king Oeneus made for the victories that Hercules had atchieued vpon king Achelous: For he doubted him paſſing ſore. Hercules at his comming preſented to him Achelous & his realme, and ſayd to him that he ſhould haue it without any refuſe. The king Oeneus ſent king Achelous into exile, and held himſelfe greatly bounden and beholden to Hercules whō he honoured marueilouſly. Then Hercules tooke to his heart againe right amorous conceits: and alſo in like maner did Deianira, ſhe had ſouereigne ioy to ſee Hercules, and deſired none other thing but for to ſee him. What ſhall I make long proceſſe? when Hercules had béene there a ſpace, he required king Oeneus that he would giue him his daughter to wife. Oeneus with right good will agréed, and accorded to him, and Deianira conſented with better will. The wedding was ſolemnized pompouſly and ſolemnely, and they went to bedde, and lay together. And ſoone after when Hercules ſawe that his father in lawe had his realme in peace, he tooke leaue of the king Oeneus, and departed from Calcedonie with Deianira and his people, for to goe by land into his realm of Iconie. Hercules had alway in his iourney Deianira by him: he loued her excéedingly, & had great ſolace in her beauty: and if he had not ſtudied with Athlas, he could not haue abſteined him from beholding her beauty. In paſſing the time pleaſantly in the maner that folke do that be new maried, Hercules iourneyed ſo farre, that he came to a quarter of Theſſaly, where the riuer of Hebenus runneth, and arriued on this riuer, which was déepe and broad running impetouſly, and had neither bridge nor plancke to paſſe ouer, but there was a Centaure named Neſſus that ſpent there his life, by the meanes of a little boate, in the which he carried the people ouer the riuer, &c.

When Hercules had found this paſſenger Neſſus, he came to him, and demaunded of him howe he and his folk might paſſe the riuer? Neſſus that knew Hercules ſince the time that he had vanquiſhed his fellowes at the wedding of Pyrothus, aunſwered to him, that hee might not paſſe the riuer but by his little bote. And if hee woulde paſſe, hee would with a good will doe him the pleaſure to ſet him ouer. Hercules thanked Neſſus: And foraſmuch as he ſaw that the bote was but litle, and that the time was diſpoſed to raine, he would that Deyanira and her damſels ſhoulde paſſe firſt. Deyanira and her maidens entred into the bote. When they were therein, Neſſus rowed, and in the rowing, he beheld Deyanira, and hee looked on her ſo much yt her beautie rauiſhed him. For as ſoone as he was come ouer on the other ſide, he took Deianira, and ſaid that ſhe ſhoulde be his wife, and then catching hold on her, he tooke her on his ſhoulders and bare her away: wherefore Deianira and her damſelles made great cries. And Hercules ſeeing that the olde giant bare away Deianira, which he would reſiſt to his power, bent his bowe, and ſhotte an arrowe vpon the giant, with ſo great might and cunning that he ſmote him on the right ſide vnto the heart, and gaue him the deaths wound. The bowe of Hercules was ſo great and ſtrong that no man could bend it but himſelf. Neſſus, when as by his wound that Hercules gaue him, he began to féele ye approching of death, and to ſuffer ſharpe anguiſh alway, he ran a great while after vnto a valley, where he fell downe, and conſidering that his life had no recouery, hee emploied the end of his life to imagine howe hee might doe diſpleaſure to Hercules, and remembred that hee had terrible poyſon about him and mortall, and ſaid to Deianira by great malice. Ladie, the loue of you hath cauſed me to receiue the death, which me diſpleaſeth not ſo ſore, as doth that cruel Hercules ſhall enioy you, which are worthy to haue a worthy man. Hercules is no true huſband, but the vntrueſt to his wife that euer was. And foraſmuch as I haue ſingular pitie of you, and that your beautie conſtraineth me to doe you pleaſure, I will giue you heere a pretious thing, and hauing ſuch vertue, that if ye boyle it with one of the ſhirtes of Hercules with the bloud that runneth out of my wound, and if that ye giue the ſhirt to Hercules and that he weare it, he ſhal neuer after loue other woman ne lady but you.

And with theſe wordes the giant tooke the poiſon, and tempered it with his bloud, & wound it in a linnen cloth, and gaue it to Deianira. The fooliſh Deianira giuing credence to the giant, tooke the poyſon. The giant charged her that no man ſhuld touch it bare, ſaying that then it woulde looſe his vertue after the touching: and with that he gaue vp his ghoſt and died pitiouſly, and Deianira eſcaped from his handes, purpoſing that ſhee woulde kéep that poiſon ſecretly at all aduenture, for to helpe her ſelf, if it were néed. In the mean while that theſe things befell betwéene Deianira and the giant, Hercules was not in heartes eaſe for Deianira: for he was in great diſtreſſe when he ſaw Neſſus beare away his wife. Aſſoone as he had ſmitten him on the right ſide with his arrow, as is ſaid, he vnclothed himſelfe, and caſt his gown, his harneſſe and club, ouer the water by great ſtrength, and after he ſtarted into the water, and ſwamme ouer vnto the other ſide, and then as he put on his raiment, Deianira (again accompanied with her damſels that followed her) came to the riuer furniſhed with the curſed poyſon. When Hercules ſawe Deianira returne, hee imagined anon that he had ſlaine the giant, and went againſt her, and demaunded where the traitor was. Deianira aunſwered not at the firſt to this demaund, but ſaide to him: alas my Lord, in what perill haue I been? what oppreſſion? what diſpaire of ioy hath oppreſſed mine heart? The traches of mine armes where yet is ſeene the print of the handes of the giant, ſhewe in what diſpleaſure I haue been. The curſed glutton giant bare mee vnto the depth of a déep valley, where death approching by ye ſtroke of your arrow, yt made him to fall down, and he would neuer let me go vntill the laſt ſigh of death. Certes, I haue ſuffered a great ieopardy, but thankes bee to the goddes, ſince I haue found you againe. And know you verily, that I am auenged of mine enemie, whom I haue ſeene die miſerably, whereof I am all reioyced and glad againe.

CHAP. XVIII. ¶How Hercules fought againſt the ſerpent of the moore Lerna, and ſlew him, &c.

DEianira and Hercules kiſſed eache other by right great loue. After, Hercules went into the place where the giant lay dead, & foraſmuch as hee found him depriued of his life, he let him lie there to the beaſts & to the birdes, and tooke his arrow that lay by him. And this was the Arrow that Achilles was ſlaine with after in the temple of Phebus in Troy, for the loue of Polixene. Then Hercules and Deianira came againe to the riuer, and Hercules ſet ouer his men, and went frō that place into the citie of Lerna. The king of this Citie did great honor to Hercules, and receiued him as honourably as he could. Among diuers talk Hercules demanded him of his tidings. The king anſwered and ſaid, that he knew none other, but yt in a great pallace there dwelled & abode a monſter half man & half ſerpent, that deſtroied all his realme by common murder. For he ſaid that all the men, women, and children that this monſter can finde, he ſlaieth them with his taile that is inuenomed, with his clawes armed he deuoureth, and deſtroieth them with his téeth, and there eſcapeth none. And ſo it will come to paſſe that this countrey be deſart: for the labourers nor marchantes dare not go by the countrey with leſſe companie then two hundred men: and if they be leſſe, the monſter aſſaileth them, like as he hath done many other, &c.

Hercules was paſſing glad and ioyous of theſe tidings, and ſaid to the king: Sir, I haue laboured yet hitherto for the common weale of manie realmes, and yet haue I the will to perſeuer and to doe the workes of vertue. Know ye then, ſince that I am here arriued, I will doe ſomewhat for the weale of this countrey, like as I haue done for many other. And I haue intention for to put me in deuoire to morrowe on the way toward the monſter, and for to abide the aduenture, to vanquiſhe him, or to be vanquiſhed of him. This monſter was called Hydre, foraſmuch as he dwelled in the waters. When Deianira heard the enterpriſe of Hercules, that he would go alone, and abandon himſelfe in ſo great perill, ſhee began to weepe and make ſo great ſorrowe, that no man might apeaſe her, nor make her ſtint her wéeping. Hercules comforted her the beſt wiſe he could. Athlas & Philotes comforted her in like maner, and ſhewed to her the right high and glorious déedes of Hercules, for to giue her hope in this aduenture. All that might not helpe nor auaile: ſhe loued Hercules with all her heart, with all her might and puiſſance. She required him with her eies charged full of teares, that he woulde abſtaine him from ſo high an enterpriſe; ſaying that it was no wiſedome fo • a man to expoſe himſelfe to ſo euident terrible daungers, and that the goddes had ſent the monſter into the country, for to correct and chaſtiſe the people. Notwithſtanding that Hercules was very ardently in loue with her: yet her teares that ſhe wept, nor her praiers, nor her reaſons can cauſe Hercules to breake his purpoſe for to enterpriſe this aduenture. But on the morne earely he cloathed him, and departed from Lerne, and tooke his way toward the moore, whereas was the monſter.

This moore was long, and thrée miles in compaſſe, as the Chronicles of Spaine rehearſe, and all enuironed with fountaines that ſprung out of the high mountaines. In the middeſt of this plaine was a great lake or pond, wherin dwelled the Hydre on dry land. When then Hercules was come to this place, the Hydre that neuer ſlep • with both eies, and that had alway the necke ſtretched on high and the eares open, had anon eſpied him, and ſodainly came againſt him running with great force. Hercules abode when he eſpied the maruellous monſter, and had great pleaſure to ſee him: he was ten foote of heigth, and had as a long a taile: he was foule and couered with haire: he had his body armed, and in his right hand held a naked ſword, and in the left hand he bare a ſhield. Hercules thus beholding him, ſuffered him to come to him. Then the monſter ſpake to him and ſaide: poore giant whether goeſt thou? behold this ſworde ſharply on both ſides cutting: yet was there neuer man that heard me ſpeake, but he died by the point of this ſword. Foraſmuch as I am the moſt wiſe creature that euer nature made, and that I am accuſtomed to make a queſtion to ſuch men as I finde, and then to deſtroy them if they cannot aunſwere thereto. And foraſmuch as I find not in my realm, any but people as beaſtes, and without vnderſtanding, I haue therefore deſtroied their bloud, and ſo will I doe thine, if thou canſt not aſſoil a ſophiſme that I ſhal make to thee. O thou man ſerpentine ſaid Hercules, thine eloquence, thy prudence, thy cruell ſworde, foule and polluted with infinite homicides make me nothing abaſhed, ne diſcourage me: I ſeeke thée, and am come hither for to deſtroy thee. And I will aſſaile not onely one of thy ſophiſmes, but as many as thou canſt thinke: and will that thou well know, that if by force of my wit, I aſſaile thy ſophiſmes, and fallacious argumentes, I will doe vnto thee like as thou wouldeſt doe to mee: and if it happen that thy ſcience may not ouercome mee, yet will I that that thou defend thee with armes, and that thou kéepe thy life as well as thou canſt, &c.

With theſe wordes the monſter made vnto Hercules ſeuen ſophiſmes one after another, all fallacious and ſubtill: then when Hercules had giuen ſolution to one, the monſter replied by ſeuen argumentes. Yet Hercules that was full of philoſophie, and expert in all ſcience, aunſwered ſo ſubſtantially to all his fallacious argumentes, that hee ſette hm at a non-plus. And for this cauſe the poets faine that this Hydre had ſeuen heades, as it appeareth in the firſt tragedy of Seneca, and ſay that when Hercules hadde ſmitten off one of his heades, that ſeuen other heades came againe in the ſame place. In the end then, for to purſue this matter, when Hercules had ſo diſputed againſt the ſerpent that hee yéelded him to Hercules, in ſuch wiſe as he wiſt not what to ſay. Hercules ſaid to him: Serpent inhumaine, wee haue fought long enough with the tongue. Take thy ſworde, I may no longer withhold my hand from ſmiting vppon thee, and aſſay if thou be as ſubtill in armes as thou art ſubtill in language. Poore foole, ſaid the ſerpent (which was full of pride) knoweſt not thou, that by my part ſerpentine I haue infected all this countrey, and I wil this day drinke thy bloud, and deuour thy body, wherefore make good watch, and kéep thee well.

Without mo wordes Hercules enhaunſed his ſworde, for to haue ſmitten his aduerſary, but he could not ſo ſoon haſte him but the ſerpent gaue him firſt two ſtrokes, one with his ſword, and the other with his taile, wherewith he had almoſt ſmitten him down to the ground. Yet Hercules abode ſtanding, & with his ſword yt he had lifted vp he ſmote the monſter vpon the helme with ſuch ſtrength that he al to fruſhed the helme, and made him a wound in his head. At this ſtroke that the Serpent felt, he was full of furie, and with his ſword ſmote Hercules the ſecond time vpon the helme, with ſo great might that the ſparkles and the fire flew out, and the helme was broken. Hercules that neuer before hadde receiued ſo great a ſtroke, promiſed him that he would reuenge it, and ſmote him right angerly. Their ſtrokes were great and deadly, they ſmote eche other 〈◊〉 , and they were both two of great courage. But when fortune had enough cheriſhed them both, ſhe turned againſt the Serpent ſo earneſtly: that after many ſtrokes Hercules ſmote his ſharp ſword within the helme into his head, and bare him downe dead vnto the earth.

Hercules had great ioy when he ſawe the monſter put to the foile, & he went for to fetch the king of Lerna, with Deianira, and his folke, and brought them for to ſee the monſter. When he hadde ſhewed them the monſter, hée made a great fire and burned it, and made ſacrifice vnto the goddes. And by the fire hee conſumed the monſter Hydre. Wherefore there were giuen to him great and right high praiſes and thanks. And he was brought to the Citie of Lerne with great glory of Ladies and of gentlewomen, which conueied him vnto the kings pallace ſinging melodiouſly. Deianira thē ioyed greatly in the triumphant victorie of her noble huſband. When Hercules had abidden there a while, he departed and went to Athens, where Theſeus receiued him gloriouſly. Then Hercules and Athlas held ſchoole in Athens, foraſmuch as they of Athens were quicke of capacitie and of wit, and gaue themſelues all to learn ſcience: and there they were a great while introducing and enforming them of Athens in philoſophy and in aſtronomie. And eſpecially in aſtronomie Atlas profited in ſuch wiſe, that the ſtudents ſaid, that he ſuſtained and bare the heauen on his ſhoulders. O noble vertuous man. When Hercules had ſpent ſome time there, and ſtudied ſo long that his doctrine had giuen light vnto the Athenians, hee departed from thence with great bemoning, and brought his wife vnto the citie of Licie. And then hee was ſo greatly renowmed, that from all the realmes of Greece there came dayly to him noble men and other, for to profit in vertue, in nobleneſſe, in honour, in armes, in philoſophy, in aſtronomie, and in all other perfection, &c.

CHAP. XIX. ¶How Hercules went into Spaine: and howe hee fought in the Sea againſt king Gerion, and vanquiſhed him: and how he tooke the citie of Megidda, and entred therein.

IN the time that Hercules flouriſhed in vertue, and that his name was borne from realme to realme by glorious renowme, as the Chronicles of Spaine rehearſe, there was a king of the Citie of Megidda that ſtandeth vppon the riuer of Gaudian which began to make his name to haue a great report by many bad miſdeedes and tyrannies that no man coulde tell the third part. This tyrant had to name Gerion, he was king of Andaloſ • e, and Deſtremadure, and alſo of the mountains of Galicia, and of Portingale. The Poets faine of this tyrant, that he had three heades, foraſmuch as he had two brethren great giantes, the which were all of one nature, and of one complexion, and they were ſo vnited togither, that al that the one would, the other would: and they were neuer in diſcord. Gerion was the worſt of them all. Hee did cauſe to be made a temple in the Citie of Megidda, and ordained that all they that were noble ſhoulde there haue their image and ſepulture: and that men ſhoulde make there the remembrances of al the men of name that he ſhould flea, to the end that there ſhould be a memory of them in time comming. What ſhall I ſay of his deedes? he & his brethren tyrannized not alonely vpon the ſtrangers, but alſo vpon his neighbours, and had pittie on no man, in ſuch wiſe that he gat him an euil name, and that the Affricanes, whom they perſecuted more then any other, went for to complaine to Hercules, by the commandement of Afer, as to the ſoueraigne deſtroyer of tyrantes and of monſters, and praied and required him greatly, that hee woulde deliuer them out of this tribulation.

When Hercules vnderſtoode the complaint of the Affricanes, and was aduertiſed of the tyrannie that Gerion and his brethren vſed: He enterpriſed for to go into Heſperie, and promiſed to the Affricans, that they ſhoulde haue right ſhortly lidings of him. And after aſked them of the ſtate of king Afer. And when they had tolde all that they knew, they returned with great ioy into their countrey. Hercules from thenceforth, diſpoſed him for to go into Heſperie: wherefore his wife Deianira made great ſorrow. The renowne of this voiage was anonne ſpred in all the countrey. In ſhort time there came more men, of armes into Lic • e for to ſerue Hercules then he ſent for, he was ſo good, bountifull and wiſe: and alſo valiant and ſo free that he gaue a way all his ſpoiles; wherefore euery man woulde follow him, and good cauſe why: for no man followed him nor ſerued him, but that hee rewarded and enriched him in al wealth and worthineſſe. When then his army was readie, hee tooke leaue of his wife Deianira, and departed out of the realme of Licie. Manie a teare was ſhed at his departing, as well of Deianira, as of his ſchollers that learned of him. Theſeus and Hiſpan, Athlas, and Philotes were with him. During this voiage, he ſtudied oft times with Athlas, and was neuer idle without doing ſomewhat that ought to be remembred. Hee ariued in Affricke, where hee found Afer, which receiued him worſhipfully. From Affricke Hercules paſſed by the ſtrait of Gybaltar, and went into the Gades, that now we call Galicia, and peopled the countrey, foraſmuch as he found there good land, and deliuered this people for to gouerne vnto a noble man named Phyliſtines. This Phyliſtines as Bocace rehearſeth in the genealogie of goddes, was ſon of Phenis, king of Phenycia. And this Phenis was ſonne of king Agenor, ſon of king Belus. Philiſtines then raigned in Galicia, and was after named the Prieſt of Hercules, foraſmuch as when Hercules had vanquiſhed the tyrants of Heſperie, he foū ded there a temple which he held after in great reuerence. Alway as Hercules peopled and inhabited this land, hee did cauſe to bee made pillers or columnes high and maruellous great, and ſet them vpon the ſea: and vppon euery piller or columne hee did make an image of hard ſtone, in the ſemblance and likeneſſe of a knight, like vnto Hercules all clad with the ſkin of a Lion. And there was one of the images that held a table wherein was written with letters of gold. Paſſe no further for to ſeeke land, ne go for to conquer further any realms in the Weſt, for thou ſhalt find no more land, &c.

The noble Hercules went then into the countrey whereas ſtandeth now the citie of Siuil, which was not then founded, and found by his ſcience that there ſhoulde be builded a citie of great renowme: wherefore in memorie thereof, he ſet vp in that place a pillar of hard ſtones, and thereupon ſet an image holding in his hand written, that ſaid: That there ſhould be made one of the greateſt Cities in the world. This land of Galicia appertained to Gerion. But then when Hercules had made this pillar aboue-ſaid, and ſet it whereas now ſtandeth Siuill: hee had a great will for to begin to build the citie, for the coū tray was paſſing good & commodious. But Athlas (by the ſcience of aſtronomy) counſelled him contrary, ſhewing him by certaine ſignes, that it was deſtinie, that another ſhould make the citie. And therefore nigh the piller, he did make a columne of white marble, vpon which ſtoode the image of Hercules great & rich, that held one hand againſt the Eaſt, wherin was written: Here hath been Hercules. And with the other hand he ſhewed the writing that the other image held.

Theſe thinges accompliſhed, Hercules departed from thence, and left to inhabite and keepe the countrey eight hundred men of his of the countrey of Scithia, that were ſtrong and expert in armes, and with good wil they abode there, becauſe the countrey was plentifull. Then went Hercules by the banks of the ſea, into the laſt and furthermoſt part of Europe, and ſailed ſo farre that he entred into the riuer of Guadiana, whereas the tyrant Gerion dwelled and abode in the Citie of Megidda. The ſame time that Hercules entered into the riuer: Gerion went vp to the top of an high towre, where he might ſee all about the countrey, for to eſpie if any perſon came, vppon whom he might exreciſe his tyrannie. He had not bin long there, when he beheld the riuer and ſaw the army of Hercules: And ſeeing this armie, he had great ioy, for him ſeemed well that in all haſte hee ſhoulde ſubdue and ouercome them. Without other delay hee aſſembled his complices, and ſownded to armes. Within a little while all his men that were ready and furniſhed with arms, came vnto him for to know what he would? when Gerion was all armed, and ready for to go and enter into the battaile, he declared to his people his intention, after he entred into his gallies as haſtily as he might, and went from Megidda approching toward the Gréeks. Thus rowing forth, it hapned him that he met a little boat: And from as farre as he ſawe it come, hee went againſt it and areſted it. In this boat were no mo then two mariners, & Hiſpan. Gerion then called Hiſpan, and demanded of him whither hee went, & what he was? Certes ſir, anſwered Hiſpan. I am a Greeke, & haue intention to go to the king Gerion, that is nowe in his city of Megidda, for to diſpatch a meſſage that I am charged with. Meſſenger (ſayd the king) if yée ſéeke Gerion, yee néed for to go no further forth: for I am he, whom ye ſpeake vnto. Sir (anſwered Hiſpan) ſince that you be he to whom my meſſage apperteineth, I let you haue knowledge in the name of the vertuous Hercules, that he is an enemy to your vices: and for to correct your great and abominable treſpaſſes and ſinnes, hée is come into your dominion. Meſſenger (anſwered Gerion) how is Hercules ſo preſumptuous as for to come vpō me, to take vpon him to correct my vices? he wote litle with whom he hath to do: go to him, and tell him, that he ſhall not be let to find me, but it ſhall be too ſoone for his health, and that I will feaſt him in ſuch wiſe ere he eſcape mée, as I haue béene accuſtomed to feaſt ſtrangers.

Hiſpan departed with theſe words, and returned vnto Hercules as haſtily as he might, and tolde him worde for word what Gerion had ſayd vnto him: and moreouer hée ſayd, that he would méete with him right ſoone all prepared and ready for to begin the battell. When Hiſpan had finiſhed his meſſage, the gallies of king Gerion appeared, and were ſéene from farre. Hercules and the Gréekes had great ioy, and began a right great ſhouting, in ſounding trumpets, fifes, and tabours. Gerion and his folke ſéeing and hearing their enemies, they likewiſe beganne to ſhoute, and to make a marueilous great noyſe. The aire was then filled with a right great and ioyfull noiſe. In this vprore and outragious noyſe, the two hoſtes approched eche other. At the approching was not ſpared darts, nor round ſtones, nor arrowes. They of Heſperie had great aboundance of daries, which they vſed and caſt on the Gréekes as it had béene raine. The cries redoubled on the one ſide and on the other, ſo that there were many dead and hurt. They were all men of warre: ech man bare him valiantly, and among all other, Hercules hauing the bowe in hand, ſlew as many of his en • mies as he ſhot arrowes. The ſhot dured long. When it failed they fought hand to hand. Then beganne the battaile to be eagre and hard. Gerion ſhewed himſelfe a man boyſtrous and well expert in armes, and put to death many Greekes: but for one that he ſlew, Hercules ſlew ten of the Heſperiens, &c.

At the encounter that the Gallies made, there were many hurt, and ſtrokes giuen. Hercules tooke his clubbe and in ſmiting one of the Galies, that thought to haue grapled and borded his galley, hee ſtrooke with ſo great force, that he made it to cleaue aſunder, and that the water came in ſo ſodainly that the moſt part of them that were in that galley were drowned, and periſhed without ſtroke ſmiting. After this, Hercules came to another galley, and there did he maruailes of armes: all they that he raught with his club were dead or ſore hurt. Some he ſmote the braines out of the head, and of other hee brake legges and armes. It ſeemed to thunder with him: hee did ſo beſtir him, that eche man fled from him: and there was no man that withſtoode him, or durſt abide him. When hee ſawe this, hee put himſelfe forth to exploite great affaires. He leapt from gally to gally, and made ſo great ſlaughters, that his people by his good example abounded in valour of courage and puiſſance, and the Heſperiens diminiſhed & leſſened: and alſo they had ſo much damage, that all thinges went againſt them. And then Gerion, cūſidering that he might not but loſe, and that fortune was an enemy vnto him, he did ſound a retrait, and ſo left the battaile.

CHAP. XX. ¶How Gerion aſſailed Hercules the ſecond time, before Megidda, and how Hercules ſlewe his brethren, and vanquiſhed in his battailes, & conſtrained Gerion to flie, &c.

WHen Hercules ſaw his enimies buſie to withdraw them, he ſounded the retrait, and foraſmuch as it was nigh night, and alſo becauſe he had encloſed the Gallies of Gerion, in ſuch wiſe that they might not returne into his Citie without paſſing by him. When the two armies were withdrawn, Gerion in the darkeſt of al the night, ſhipped & went into the ſea, and went into the Citie of Valeritia, whereof one of his brethren was king, & put him there in ſafetie, in purpoſe to make the greateſt army that he could to come vpō Hercules. Hercules after the retrait, ankred his Gallies vpon the riuer of Gaudiana, and paſſed there that night. On the morrow when he ſaw that Gerion and his folke were fled, & were not vpon the ſea within kenning, he rowed vp into the city of Megidda. There he tooke land and aſſailed fiercely the city. The aſſault was eagre and ſharp, and the Megiddans defended themſelues, but they were ſo diſfurniſhed of men of war, that they might not hold it out, but opened the towne to the Greekes and yeelded them al to the will of Hercules. Thus was Hercules lord & maiſter of the principal city that Gerion had, & he entred into it, and the Greeks with him. There had they good daie •• the city was well prouided with vittaile. Since they departed out of Greece, they found no where ſo good fortune. What ſhal I ſay? Hercules held him there a ſpace of time ſearching in what place he might finde Gerion. During theſe things, he went vnto the temple, for to thank ye gods. In this temple were many Sepultures garniſhed with right faire maruellous hiſtories. Among all other there was one paſſing riche: for the remembrance of Gerion was there, as of a king of fine gold, and he was enuironed with 30 kings, whoſe heads were ſmittē off. Hercules abode at this ſepulture, and demaunded of the Citizens wherefore ſerued the ſtatues & images ſo rich. A citizen ſaid to him, that there were the ſepultures of the noble men of their realm, and that the king Gerion had brought vp that cuſtome to make theſe Sepultures, for to haue remembrance of them that were valiant in arms. Furthermore (ſaid that ſame man) as ſoone as in this countrey a man hath put a noble mā to death, then he doth to make a remēbrance of that dead man on his ſepulture. And foraſmuch as king Gerion in his time hath ſlain 30 kings, he hath cauſed this ſepulture to be made which you ſee, meaning to be buried here, in the end of his daies. When Hercules heard this that the Citizen ſaid, he anſwered, that he held himſelfe happy, that he had eſcaped the ſword of ſuch a tyrant, that put ſo many kings to death, and made his Oriſons, & his praiers vnto the gods: After this he returned to the pallace, and there came vnto him the meſſenger of king Gerion, that by the power of his maiſter commanded him to void the city, and the realm, or els to make good watch. Hercules anſwered, that he was entred into the realm, & alſo into the citie with ſtrength of armes and that he would not go out therof vntil ye time that one had taken from him his ſword and arms, by force of arms, or vntil the time that he put the countrey in obeyſance.

The meſſenger returned from Megidda with this anſwere vnto Gerion, and told him what Hercules had anſwered him. Gerion was with his two brethren: they tooke the words of Hercules impatiently, and ſware that they would auenge them of him. To make ſhort worke: they went to the ſea with a great army of men of armes. They rowed and ſailed with all the ſtrength they might vnto Megidda: the winde and fortune ſuffered them in few daies to come and arriue at the port of Megidda: And Hercules was aduertiſed of their comming, who ſuffered thē to take land, and let them reſt that day that they came there: they were fiftie thouſand men. At that time that they came a land it was late. When they ſawe that the Greekes made no defence at their landing, they ſaid one to another, that they durſt not come and fight with them. And weening all to haue wonne aduantage, they thereupon concluded that on the morrowe they woulde aſſaile the Citie right early. Vppon this concluſion, Gerion and his brethren purueied them of things appertaining to the aſſault, and menaced greatly Hercules and his Greeks for to ſlea them villanouſly. Hercules and his Greekes were then in Megidda, thinking on their affaires, not only in the intention for to defend them from their enemies, but for to iſſue out the next day following, and for to aſſaile them by battaile, aſſoone as the night were paſſed. Then a little before the ſun riſing, on the morrow, Hercules made two battails. In the firſt, hee put a thouſand fighting men, and enterpriſed to conduct them. In the ſecond hee put the reſidue of his armie, and made Theſeus captain of them. After this, when he hadde right well trained his people, and ſet them in a right good order, he admoniſhed them to doe well their deuoire, and had in minde to ſay to them certain things, but he might not finiſh his ſpéech: for that ſame time Gerion and his brethren, & their folk, made their approches to aſſaile the citie, and made ſo great a hurly burly and noiſe, that all about it redounded, &c.

When Hercules heard this vproare, he did prepare opē ye gate, for to behold & ſée what new thing was there. And at the iſſuing out he ſaw his enemies that haſted them to come to the forts and walles with ladders and other Engines fit and neceſſary to make an aſſault. Then hee began to laugh in himſelfe, and bad his men to follow him: and he went ſtraightway forth for to begin the ſkirmiſh. And aſſoone as the porter had opened the gates, Hercules marched vnto ye Heſperiens bringing his club with him. Whē Gerion ſaw Hercules come from far, he knew him, by his ſkin of the Lyon, and by his club, and ſhewed him to his brethren, that maruelled of him, becauſe he came alone vpon them. Luther is our mortal aduerſary, ſaid Gerion: he is full of pride, and ſetteth little by vs: Let vs aſſaile him al three, and deſtroy him: it is time: al the gold of the world ſhal not ſaue him. Hercules with theſe wordes came ſo nigh the three giantes, that he might well ſpeake vnto them, and cried vnto them and ſaide: yee euill tyrants, lay downe your engines apperteining to aſſault: it is now no time to aſſaile the citie, but it behooueth you to diſpoſe you to enter into battell. The battell is ready, beginne at me, and I at you, and let vs ſight together till more come. With theſe words he lifted his club, and diſcharged the ſtroke ſo ſore vppon one of the thrée brethren, that he caſt his ſhielde before the ſtroke, and all aſtonied he bare him to the earth. When Gerion & his other brother ſawe their brother ſo borne downe and beaten, they ſmote with their ſwords vpon Hercules with great fury, and ſo imployed their ſtrength, that they brake part of his armes. With theſe two ſtrokes of their ſwords, Hercules receiued more then an hundred dartes vppon his body: howbeit the ſwordes nor the darts were not ſo hard tempered, that they could pearce, enter, ne hurt the armes of Hercules, ne Hercules left not to worke with his clubbe: but he it lift vp on high at that time, and ſtrak it vpon the ſecond brother of Gerion ſo luſtily, that downe from the top of the helme, he all to cruſhed and bruiſed him, & ſmote him downe to the ground, like as an hard and great rock • had fallen on his head, &c.

Gerion was all afrayde for to ſée ſo great a ſtroke, and with a wonderfull angry and fierce heate, he layde vpon Hercules, and gaue him ſo great a ſtroke vpon the helme with his ſword, that he made the fire ſpring out: but the helme was ſo hard, that the ſword might not enter. Then was Hercules enuironed with his enemies, and was ſmitten in many a place vpon his body. The Heſperians deſired ſore to ſée their ſwordes and glaiues red with the bloud of Hercules, but Hercules put himſelfe to defence, ioyous for that he might employ his ſtrength vpon them. And when he prooued him thus vpon one and other, and would ſuffer none come néerer then his arme and clubbe might reach, and that his enemies more and more came about him, Malion, that was nephew to Vliſſes, iſſued out of Megidda with a thouſand men of the army of Hercules. And ſéeing ſo great a company of people about Hercules, and was aſſured that he fought there, hee and his people addreſſed themſelues thitherward, making ſo great a crie, and ſetting on ſo valiantly, that in bearing downe all afore them, they came and founde Hercules, that he had ſlaine more then ſixe hundred of his enemies, and that he feared yet nothing. They that bare ladders and other engines, were conſtrained to caſt them downe to the ground, and to goe to the battell. The battell was there grieuous and hard: and there were many knightes ſlaine. Gerion beſtirred himſelfe terribly. His brother that was firſt beaten, after that he was borne out of the preaſe, came vnto the field againe, and in his comming he made a great roome among the Gréeks: he was ſtrong and puiſſant, and bare a right heauie guiſarme, the edge of which was thrée great foot long: he did maruailes with this guiſarme, and beate downe ſo many of the Gréekes, that the noiſe aroſe greatly about him. And this noyſe came to the eares of Hercules. Then left Hercules them that he fought with, and drew to the noiſe that procéeded by the cauſe of the giant. Aſſoone as he ſaw the giant, that deall with the Gréekes as he would, he was not well content with that guiſarme: and hee lifted vp his clubbe, and ſmote the giant vpon the ſhoulder, employing his ſtrength in ſuch maner, that the ſhoulder and the ſide hee all to brake, and bare him downe to the grounde, not fully dead, but in worſe eſtate then dead, for he might not relieue himſelfe, and muſt néedes die vnder the féet of the men of armes right miſerably.

At this time Theſeus and Hiſp • n, with the reſidue of the Gréekes, came vnto the battell right ioyfully, and finding their enemies without ray, and without conclud, they ſkirmiſhed among them fiercely, and ſlewe ſo many, that all the place was couered. Hiſpan and Theſeus clo • the heads of many knights vnto the téeth: they 〈◊〉 right expect in the feats of armes. At their comming they made their enemies to retire, and wanne vpon them with ſo good fortune, that by their meanes and well doing, Gerion loſt mo then thirty thouſand men. In ſhorte time the battaile was ſuch about Hercules, that his enemies wiſt not where to ſaue them. And Gerion being aduertiſed of the death of the ſecond brother, turned his backe and fled vnto the ſea, blowing his horne. When the Heſperiens heard the horne, anon they endeuoured ſodainly to commit themſelues to flight; and they that might ſaue themſelues, ſaued them without delay. Hercules, Theſeus and Hiſpan, with about twelue hundred Greekes followed them ſwiftly: they entered into ſome of their ſhips, and purſued Gerion, but they had not marriners ſo ready as the other had, wherefore they were a little letted. Howbeit, as farre as they might ſee, Hercules purſued them onely with his twelue hundred men.

CHAP. XXI. ¶How Hercules purſued Gerion, and howe hee went and vanquiſhed him, and put him to the death, at the port of the Corogne.

THus hauing finiſhed the battaile for this day, to the great damage and diſhonour of Gerion, and all to the honour and profite of Hercules, Malion abode in Megidda by the ordinaunce of Hercules, for to keepe the Greekes that abode there, and for to take the ſpoile of their enemies. Hercules on the other ſide, ſailed and rowed after Gerion. Gerion perceiued him, and was ſore afraid and fled all that euer he might. The flight dured three daies. Gerion had good mariners, who kept them warily from bording of the ſhip of Hercules. And they ſayled by the ſea Mediterrane, from coaſt to coaſt, from floud to floud; nowe before and nowe behinde. But the end was ſuch, that on the fourth day they were conſtrained to abide Hercules at the battaile vppon the ſea or deſcend to land at the Corongne in Galicia. For to flie alway the death, whereof they were in doubt, they left the ſea and tooke the land at a port, imagining that they ſhould well defend them againſt Hercules, for they were ten againſt one. Anon as they had taken land at the port of the Corongne, they tooke and tramed them about the port, for to defēd the ſea, which was ſtrong for to take. And then Gerion warned his men, ſaying: loe nowheere is the houre or the day that wee muſt die or ouercome our enemies in. Fortune hath done to vs the worſt ſhe can. She was woont to make all ſtrangers to tremble before our ſwordes. Nowe ſhee maketh vs to tremble before a right little number of people. Alas what ſhame is this? truely the ſhame is great, and wee ought to haue right great reproofe ſo to do. Since we be at this point, there is no way but to auenge this ſhame. If we auēge vs at this time, we ſhall recouer our worſhip and honour. In our vſage lieth right good hope, for fortune hath brought vs into a very good port; and me ſeemeth that ſhee w • ll raiſe vs againe, and make vs conquerours of our aduerſaries: let vs now defend the port. Auenge we our bloud, auenge we our ſorrow, auenge we our damage: it muſt needes be done, &c.

In the meane while that Gerion encouraged thus his folke, Hercules and his companie rowed ſo nigh the port, that they were come to ſtrokes ſmiting. The Heſperiens caſt vpon Hercules then round ſtones, dartes with ſharp yrons on the end, ſpeares and ſwordes. Againſt this the Greekes tooke their ſhieldes, and couered them, and put them in deuoire for to winne the port. But the caſting of the Heſperiens was ſo mortall, that it conſtrained their enemies to abide, and not approche the porte. They had at this port great aboundance of ſtones. The Heſperiens kept well the entry more then three houres, ſo that the Greeks coulde finde no way nor meane to remedy it. At the end of three houres, Hercules right ſorrowfull to ſee his men troubled ſo, thought he would enter into a little boat, and aduenture himſelfe alone to win the port. Then he that doubted no ſtroke of any mortall man, entered into the little boate, and ſteared it himſelfe, with helpe of the winde which he had at his aduauntage, and hoiſed vp the ſaile, and putting all in aduenture, as faſt as he might he brought the boate vnto the port, whither hee came by his hardineſſe. But this was at ſuch time as he receiued more then a thouſand ſtrokes with ſtones: and that his ſaile that ſtood ouer end by force of the winde, was ſmitten full of holes, and the cordes broken, and the maſt ouerthrowne, and the boate well nigh filled with ſtones. Notwithſtanding all theſe thinges, Hercules ceaſſed not at all from his enterpriſe, but through he paſſed by al the ſtrokes of his enemies. He laboured ſo that hee tooke land, and that he thruſt himſelfe among the Heſperiens: and there he began to ſmite with his clubbe, on the right ſide, and on the left ſide endlong and ouerthwart, with ſuch aboundance of proweſſe, that all the place was red with their bloud and with their braines. Theſeus and Hiſpan, and fiftie of the Greekes beſt armed, by the example of Hercules, tooke a light boat and aduentured themſelues to winne the porte. Hercules was euen at the mouth of the porte: he ſaw Theſeus come, and for to make him haue paſſage, he ran hither and thither, and did ſo great hurt to the Heſperiens, that without great danger, they tooke land, and ſprang out of the boate. Then was the aſſault hote and furious. Gerion came to the landing of Theſeus and fully three hundred of his men that followed him. All they ſmote and layd vpon the Greeks, and of the fiftie they ſlew ten. When Theſeus and Hiſpan ſaw that, their heartes began to ſwell. They encouraged themſelues, and pierſed the aſſembly of Gerion: and againſt one man that was ſlaine of theirs, they ſlew fiftie of the Heſperians. And there they vſed ſo their proweſſes, that they did there the greateſt marueiles of the world by armes.

Gerion died for ſorrow that he might not come to haue his will on the Gréekes: hee and his men were eager as Tygres that had béene famiſhed. The Gréekes were very mighty and ſtrong as Elephants: their ſtrokes were great, they doubted neither death nor ſworde, but put all in aduenture. The battell was ſtrong, and the Gréekes receiued many a wound: alway Theſeus and Hiſpan by their marueilous proweſſes ſaued them from the death, and made paſſage thorow a great preaſe where Hercules was. Hercules that left not to ſmite was very glad when he ſaw Theſeus and Hiſpan, and their forty companions. Their comming coſt Gerion the death of a thouſand men & more: for Hercules, for to encourage his men, and for to be to them an example of well doing, he added to his déeds ſtrength vpon ſtrength, and proweſſe vpon proweſſe, confounding his enemies ſo dreadfully and terribly, drawing them toward the ſea, that they that ſaw him, wiſhed that they had bin in their mothers wombs: and in flying they were in ſuch haſte, & ſo diſtreſſed, that they beat ech other into the ſea, and ſo they ſlew ech other themſelues. Then was Gerion ſmitten to the heart with great ire, medled with impatience: ſo hee put himſelfe in the preaſe, and ſmote not only vpon Hercules, but alſo vpon the companions of Theſeus: he ſmote the firſt man vpon the helm, ſo that he cleft his head vnto the téeth. After he aſſailed another, and bare him to the earth ſo aſtonied, that he wiſt not where he was. Conſequently, he made there a great aſſault ſuddenly on the Gréekes, ſo that he died his ſword with their bloud, and that the Gréekes were conſtrained to make a huge great crie, for to haue ſuccours.

At this ſeaſon the Gréeks, that were left in the gallies, entred into the port, and tooke land eaſily. When Hercules and his folke heard the crie that his men made, he ran thither to the aſſault, and made about them a newe noiſe great & pitious. Gerion knew anon, that the noiſe came becauſe of Hercules: For he ſaw him come and ſmite in ye thickeſt of the preaſe, for to ſaue himſelfe: then he called to his folke and chéered them in encouraging, and had there ſo great miſhap, that for one ſtroke that Hercules gaue him with his club by chance he was conſtrained to depart from the preaſe, & to withdraw him apart with them that were weary, & for to take his breath. Gerion afterward fought to his extremitie, and caſting ſo his eies vppon the ſkirmiſh and fighting, he ſaw the Greeks vpon the port, & prouiding them vnto the battaile. After he ſaw how they put many of his men to the worſt, and that hee might not reſiſt it: al his loſſes came before his eyes, and then he began to ſigh, and ſaid, with a dolorous heart: alas, what is the mutabilitie of fortune? Flattering fortune, what haſt thou thought? All the honor that thou haſt giuen me here before, redound now to my ſhame, ſince thou haſt ſent and parted to me ſo many goodes, wherefore haſt thou ſent to me Hercules? this is the enemy of all my glory no • e quēched. He from a ſhining hath brought me vnto a name all full of darknes. At leaſt, if thou haſt giuen him ſufficient: let him not come after me with his horrible deedes. All my veines be repleniſhed with furies, my heart murdereth it ſelfe boyling with ire. O what great miſhap is this: ſince it muſt needes be that I ſhalbe vnfortunate, I will verily die of the club that I haue ſeene my brother die with: or I will take vengeance. Gerion all out of his wit with theſe wordes put him in the preaſe, crying: Gerion, Gerion, for to make his men to courage thēſelues. Thus crying & ſeeking Hercules, he put to death many Gréeks: he was al furious, ſo as his ſword was died with the blood of his enemies. In the end he came vnto Hercules, & with his ſword ſo died, he ſmote him ſore. Hercules was weary, for without ceaſſing, hee abode fighting by the ſpace of 4. houres, and had receiued vpon his arms ſo many ſtrokes, that no man could number them. This notwithſtanding, hee fledde not at all from Gerion: but came to him ioyfully, and fought againſt him with ſo great force, that all they that ſaw it maruelled: and after many ſtrokes ſmitten of Gerion and Hercules, Hercules ſmote him one ſtroke, ſo great that he al to bruſed Gerion, and beate out the braines of his head, and ſmote the helme vppon his ſhoulders, ſo that he fell down dead among the dead men, in ſuch wiſe mangled that he abode there dead.

CHAP. XXII. ¶How Hercules founded the Citie of Corogne, vppon the tombe of Gerion.

SVch was the end of the vnhappy life of Gerion the tyrant: he died in like wiſe as the two brethren did, by the club of Hercules. When the Heſperiens ſaw him brought to that paſſe, as for to taſte the bitter morſel of death, all left their armes. All they bewailed ſorrowfully the death of Gerion, and fell all in deſpaire: So that one ſtaied ſtill to be ſlaine, other fled by deſartes, by mountaines, by the bankes of the Sea, and turned all backe in diſcomfiture. When Hercules had eſpied them ſo diſraied, he thanked the Goddes, and began for to purſue his enemies. The purſuite dured vnto the Euen. The Greekes filled the fieldes, the mountaines and the waies by the Sea, with the bloud of them that fled. When the night was come, Hercules and the Greeks withdrew them into the Gallies, and did eate, and drinke ſuch as they had, and made ioyfull cheere. The hurt men were remembred and comforted with the victory and ſpoile. The wearie men forgat the labour that they had done. They reſted them after their trauaile, & paſſed the night ouer. When it was day, on the morrow Hercules iſſued out of his galley: And beholding the porte him ſeemed that a citie ſhould ſtand well there, and ſaid that he would make one there: and concluded to begin it. Hee ſent vnto all places where he wiſt that any people were thereaboutes, and gaue to each man in knowledge, that hee was minded to make a citie there, and that the firſt perſon that woulde come to put hand thereto, ſhoulde haue the gouernment thereof. This thing was knowne in all Galicia. Manie came thither, but a woman named Corogne was the firſt that came. And therefore Hercules gaue vnto her the ruling therof, and made to begin the citie, and named it Corogne, in remembraunce of the victory that hee had there. Vpon the body of Gerion he founded a towre, and by his art compoſed and made a lampe burning continually day and night, without putting of any thing thereto. Which burned afterward by the ſpace of 300. yere. Moreouer vpon the pinacle or top of the towre: hee made an image of copper looking into the ſea, and gaue him in his hand a looking glaſſe hauing ſuch vertue, that if it happened that any men of warre were on the ſea meaning to doe anie harme to the city, ſodainly their army and their comming ſhould appeare in this ſaid looking glaſſe: and that dured vnto the time of Nabuchodonozor: who being aduertiſed of the propertie of the glaſſe, filled his gallies with white things & greene, bowes and leaues, that it ſeemed a wood, and in the looking glaſſe appeared none other thing but a wood: Whereby the Corogniens not knowing of any other thing then their glaſſe ſhewed to them, furniſhed not them with men of armes, like as they had been accuſtomed to do when their enemies came: And thus Nabuchodonozor tooke the citie in a morning and deſtroied the looking glaſſe and the lampe. When this towre was made, Hercules cauſed then to come thither all the maids of the countrey, & willed them to make a ſolemne feaſt, in remē brance of the death of Gerion. After, he departed vnto Megidda, where were preſented to him 100. oxen of ye faireſt.

CHAP. XXIII. ¶How Hercules aſſailed the king Cacus, and had battaile againſt him, and ouercame him: and how Cacus began to tyranniſe in Italy, &c.

AFter this conqueſt, as Hercules intended to people and inhabite this new country, tidinges came to him that in the Citie of Cartagene, a king & giant raigned, named Cacus, which was paſſing euil, & ful of tyranny, and had ſlaine by his curſed dealing the kings of Aragon and of Nauarre, their wiues and their children, and poſſeſſed their ſeignories, and alſo held in ſubiection all the countrey of Italy. Hercules receiued right ioyouſly theſe tidinges, and ſaid, that by the pleaſure of the Gods, hee will aſſay if hee may take vengeance of the death of the kinges of Arragon and of Nauarre. Then he diſpoſed him vnto this work, and hauing an appetite to correct the king Cacus, as ſoone as his armie might be ready, he went vnto the realme of Caſtile, whereas was the king Cacus in the cittie of Cartagene, that ſtood beſide a mountaine named Monachaio. And hee paſſed by many realmes that did him obeiſance, for his vertuous renowme: but when hee came to approche to Cartagene, the king Cacus came againſt him without obeyſance, and in armes: for he had been aduertiſed of his comming. And as hee entred into the frontiers, hee ſent vnto him one of his knights, that ſaid to him theſe words that follow: Hercules thou open tyraunt, that haſt thine heart greater then thy body, and that wouldeſt aſſaile the heauens, for to conquer them, if the Gods had giuen thee winges for to flie as the birdes haue: If thou ſeeke peace and loue vnto the king Cacus, thy equall in condition and fortune, I ſalute thee in his name: and if thou come otherwiſe to him as his enemy, I defie thée in his name. And in no wiſe be thou ſo hardy as to enter into his countrey. And if thou enter, know thou that thou ſhalt find in Cacus and in the Caſtiliens ſo hard an encounter, that from thy euill aduenture ſhall no man of thy company bée quit, &c.

Knight (aunſwered Hercules) whatſoeuer you bee, you ſhewe not that you haue the heart of a noble man. For it is a ſhame to all men, and eſpecially to a noble man, to miſſay or ſpeake euill of another man. Ye haue called me an open tyrant: and alſo ye haue compared mee vnto the tyrant Cacus. I anſwere you to this article, that I am no tyrant: but a deſtroier of tyrantes: and therefore yee ſhall returne againe vnto Cacus, and ſignifie to him, that I haue intention for to ſhew what hate I haue vnto tyrantes: and that within few daies he may prooue vpon me the hard encounter, whereof I haue now receiued the menaces. With this aunſwere the Caſtilien departed from the preſence of Hercules, and returned vnto the king Cacus, and tolde him worde for worde what Hercules had ſaide to him. When Cacus had heard all this: he was abaſhed, notwithſtanding that hee was a ſtrong Giant and a puiſſant, and that he had neuer found a man ſtronger then he was himſelfe: for the renowme of Hercules was then ſo great through the vniuerſall worlde, that the moſt ſtrong, and the moſt aſſured in armes, and moſt fortunate doubted him, and trembled hearing him ſpeake of his deedes. Howbeit Cacus tooke c • urage in himſelf, and in paſſing ouer abaſhment, in the p • eſence of his nobles he ſaid: Bleſſed be theſe next haſty daies, that nature and fortune ſhal bring to vs, for to make the proofe of our force and ſtrength. Nowe it behoueth that Caſtile and Sicille ſhew the force of their armes, for to defend the king Cacus from the clawes of his enemies: and it is of neceſſitie likewiſe that the king Cacus, for his people diſplay, and put forth the vttermoſt of his ſtrength. Now go we on my brethren and friends, wee be come to the warre. The Greeks come vpon Caſtile without any quarrell, let vs go againſt them and fight for our countrey: the birdes fight one againſt the other for their neſts, and the dumbe beaſtes for their caues. Nature leadeth them ſo for to doe. If we haue the ſame nature: the time is come that we ought to ſhew it, &c.

When the Caſtiliens and the Aragonnoys that were there, heard Cacus ſo ſpeake, they praiſed greatly his courage, and anſwered all with one voice, that they were ready to aſſaile their enemies. With this anſwere the king did diſlodge his hoaſt that he had there in the fieldes: and went forth againſt Hercules, the ſtraiteſt way that hee could. The king Cacus then went on the way deſiring ſore to finde Hercules. Hercules on the other ſide came then againſt Cacus. They went ſo long the one againſt the other, that ſoone after they ſawe each other, nigh a place where Hercules founded after a citie, which was named Terracene. Aſſoone as they ſawe each other, they began to make great ioy, and to make ſhoutes and cries. After they trained them in order of battaile, and marched the one againſt the other ſo hotely and ſharply, that they filled the aire in ſhort ſpace with ſhot of arrowes, caſting of ſtones, and of dartes. At the beginning of this battaile the Caſtiliens bare them valiantly, and there were many of their part ſlaine, more by hardineſſe then for dread. For they put themſelues too farre forth. And they doubted not the ſhot of the Greekes, that ſhot on them ſo ſore, and ſo thicke, that al the ground was made red with their bloud. And the Caſtiliens which were ſo farre gone and ſore chafed were driuen to reſorte backe againe to their fellowes. When king Cacus ſawe his folke ſo ſore beſtead, and heard that they reculed from the ſhotte of the Gréekes, he hadde great ſorrow in his heart, and wiſt not what to doe for to entertaine and holde his battaile. Some fledde, and other reculed and went backe, and other fell downe to the earth dead or ſore hurt. The battaile dured long in this point, alway to the ſorrow of king Cacus. But in the end the ſhot of the Gréekes failed, and the Caſtilians with Cacus recouered new ſtrength, in ſuch ſort, yt they came to fight hand to hand with ſwordes, and that they ſhed and ſpread largely the bloud of them of Tyre and of Ancone which were in the firſt front of the battaile of Hercules.

The noiſe aroſe great there: there were many ſhields broken and ſkinnes of Lyons cut in peeces. There as Cacus approched, it ſeemed that the tempeſt was: he was great, ſtrong, and fierce and outragious in ſmiting: eche of his ſtrokes was the death of a Greeke. In the end, hee did ſo much that the cries of them that were about him mounted ſo high in the aire, that the Caſtiliens had well weend to haue woon all, and beganne to make ioy for their good fortune in chaſing the Greeks to the death: but euen in like wiſe as a right cleere day is other while trobled by a darke black cloud: ſo by the alone comming of Hercules that came then to the ſkirmiſh, all their ioy was troubled and turned into mortal loſſe. For the deadly arm of Hercules layd about him then ſo terribly that hee beate downe the Caſtiliens, like as a mower with a ſithe cutteth downe the graſſe in a medowe. When Cacus ſawe Hercules ſo foundre and beate downe his men, all the bloud in him chaunged. Then his bloud ſo mooued, as a couragious man he preſented himſelf before the front of Hercules, and ſmote him with his ſword ſo ſore and hard, that he cleft his ſhield in two partes. The Caſtiliens ſeeing the ſhield of Hercules flie by peeces, thought anon that Cacus had ſlaine and put to death Hercules, and then made a cry for ioy, but it dure • not long: for Hercules lift vp his armes with his club, and ſmote Cacus vppon the top of his helme with ſuch ſtrength, that it ſeemed to Cacus that he ſaw an hundred thouſand candles, or that he had been ſmitten down with the greateſt rock of Spaine. This notwithſtāding Cacus abode ſtanding in his place, and chalenged Hercules to death, and ſmote him with all his might. At this aſſailing, the Caſtiliens hoping in the fortune of Cacus, al they aſſailed Hercules. Hercules was gone ſo farre among his enemies, that he was alone from all his company. When hee heard that Cacus threatned him to death, and ſawe that the Caſtiliens aſſailed him & came to him from al ſides, he had his heart all filled with ſolace, and abandoned the thickneſſe and hardneſſe of his ſkinne of the lion to the ſwordes of them all, without reuenging him ſaue only againſt Cacus. Thus began the battaile betweene Hercules and Cacus: the ſtrokes were great and fearefull without meaſure. Cacus fought in the ſpirite of a tyraunt chafed, and deſired ſore to ouercome Hercules for to tyranniſe and triumph ouer him. Hercules fought in a vertuous heart, founded and nouriſhed in vertue, and as an enemy of vice, hee aſſailed this vitious king. Both two were great, fearce, and ſtrong, of great courage. But certes when they hadde both taſted enough each other, at length the ſtrokes of Hercules were ſo great and ſo forcible, that the ſhoulders of Cacus nor his head might not beare, nor had the might to ſuſtaine them. So the end was ſuch, that after their battaile had dured two houres, Cacus left him: for hee might no more ſuffer him, but fled and went his way, &c.

When Hercules ſaw that Cacus fled, hee meant not to follow after. This notwithſtanding, for to haue the victory in this battell, hee began to hew on the Caſtiliens, Arragonoys, and ſuch other as he might finde: for he left no man aliue, before him yong nor old, féeble nor ſtrong. Hiſpan & the other of his ſide, made their feates of armes to flouriſh and ſhine. The battel was ſharp: for then the Greeks doubled & redoubled their ſtrokes, and ſlew manie of their enemies. In the end when Cacus had taken his breth, he put him again into the middle at one ſide, where his folk fled, & made thē to tary, ſmiting and beating the Gréekes more terribly then he had done before, whereof the cries aroſe ſo high there, that Hercules then ſighting on another ſide, heard the cry, and then hee ran thither at all aduenture. And anon as he ſpied Cacus, hee went before him, and brake the preaſe, and ſmote downe ſo ſore, that Cacus knew Hercules, but hee durſt not abide him, but fled againe with euill hap. And then the Greeks made a cry and a ioyfull noyſe, ſo that all the Caſtiliens fledde, ſome heere and ſome there to the great hurt and loſſe of Cacus. For of all his people there was left no more but 50 which ſaued thēſelues vpon the mount of Monchayo which ſtoode thereby. But that was with great effuſion of bloud of them of Caſtile, that thought to haue mounted vp with the other, yt it ſéemed that there had been a great ſpring of bloud, that the caues in the valley were repleniſhed with bloud, howbeit Cacus for to flie wel, ſaued him ſelfe and fiftie of his men vppon the mountaines, as the chronicles of Spaine rehearſe. When he was aboue, and in ſure peace, he returned and looked downe to the foot of the hill, and he ſaw there ſo many Caſtiliens, that without number were dead, or in daunger for to die: hee hadde great ſorrowe then at his heart, not for pitie, but for deſpite, and for the danger that he ſawe ready whereby hee muſt paſſe. Anon after he ſawe from farre in the champaigne and each quarter and place there all couered with them of his part and of their bloud. Alſo he ſaw them that fled taken and brought to the handes of the other. Theſe things conſidered, the deſolation of his dominion and the puniſhment of his tyranny was to him euident: he thoght then that Hercules would ſoone conquere all the country: For they obeied him for his tyranny, and not for naturall loue. This notwithſtanding he diſpaired not, albeit that he ſaw all the puiſſance of his men deſtroied by the clubbe of Hercules, and knewe that hee might no more reigne in that countrey, for all were ſlaine in the battaile, and then hee returned vnto his Science. And thus as ſorrowfull as he was he entered into a houſe that he had there. But firſt appointed twelue of his men to keepe the paſſage of this mount, which was ſo ſtraite and narrowe that there might go vp but one man at once.

When then Hercules and his men had put to death all their enemies, Hercules began to aſſaile the rocke, and to mount, and go vppon the degrees or ſtaires: but then ſodainly they that kept the paſſe, caſt vppon him great ſtones, in ſo great aboundance that of force hee was conſtrained to deſcend. When Hercules ſawe that hee muſt withdraw him, he obeied fortune, but notwithſtanding he made there a vowe that hee would neuer depart from the foot of the rocke vnto the time that he had conſtrained Cacus to deſcend & rome downe by famine or otherwiſe. This vow made, Hercules came vnto the foote of the hil, where battell and ſlaughter had been, and made the place to bee made cleane and purged of the dead bodies and of the bloud of them that there lay dead. After hee did make his tent of dewes and leaues, and his bed of freſhe graſſe, and commaunded that each man ſhoulde lodge there. At that time the night came and the day fayled, the Greeks were weary for that they had all day laboured in armes, and woulde faine haue reſt, and made good cheere with that they had. And after that they had ordeined and ſet their watche, aſwel for to keepe the coaſt, as for to keepe the rocke, that Cacus ſhould not come downe, they layd them downe vpon the graſſe, in ſuch wiſe as they were accuſtomed, when they were in war, and ſo ſlept and paſſed that night.

On the morrow Hercules parted the hoaſt in twaine, and ſent Hiſpan with one of them into Arragon and Nauarre, and hee abode there with the other. Hiſpan in the name of Hercules was ioyfully receiued of the Nauarroys and of the Arragonoys. And they made to him all obeyſance, acknowledging Hercules to be their Lord, and the moſt vertuous prince that was in the Weſt. When Hiſpan had all ſubdued as is ſaid, hee returned vnto Hercules. Hercules lay yet ſtill before Monchaio, and there held Cacus in ſuch ſubiection that he might not iſſue. Cacus and his folke were then in great want of vittaile, and they wiſt not what to eate nor to drinke. They deferred as long as they might, hoping that Hercules woulde bée weary to be there ſo long. But in the end when their vittaile failed, and they ſaw that they mu • t néeds aduenture themſelues to come downe, Cacus by his ſcience made certaine ſecret things to go downe into their ſtomackes, and after put thereto the fire and taught all the other to do ſo: and then ſodainly as they felt the fire iſſue out of their mouthes, and the fume and ſmoke in ſuch aboundance that it ſeemed all on a light fire; then by the counſaile of Cacus, they aduentured themſelues to deſcend downe in running and caſting fire and fume ſo impetouſly, that Hercules and the Greeks thought that it had been a tempeſt of lightning of the heauen, and had burnt the mountaine: ſo they made him place, for it was a thing for to make men ſore abaſhed: and thus they eſcaped the daunger of Hercules at that time. For during all that day the rocke was full of ſmoke and fume that Cacus had made, and the ſmoke was ſo material, that it ſéemed darknes.

When Cacus and his folk were thus eſcaped, and paſſed the hoſte of Hercules and of the Greekes, Hercules was then the moſt wiſe clerk that was in the world: and all his paſtimes hee emploied in ſtudy: hee tooke his bookes, and began to muſe howe and by what reaſon hée was deſcended from the rocke: he read and turned many leaues, but all thing well conſidered hee found not that this fume came of naturall thinges: wherof he had great maruel. Then he ſent for Athlas that alway was lodged behinde the hoſte, for to be ſolitary. When Athlas was come, he ſhewed him the ſmoke and fume that yet dured. Then he told of the lightning yt was paſſed by the hoſte, and demaunded of him his opinion. Athlas knew incontinent the fume, and anſwered to Hercules. Certes my ſonne, thou art more ſharpe in ſcience then I, for mine age may not attaine to ſo high things as thy youth. Howbeit, foraſmuch as I know the growing of this thing long time paſt: I will tell thee (that I ſhal ſay, thou ſhalt find true as I ſuppoſe). Thou ſhalt vnderſtād that this fume is a thing artificiall and made by the craft of Vulcan that was father of Cacus, which was an excellent maiſter in this ſcience, and was the inuenter thereof: he made certaine mountaines in Cicille to burne, and ſhall alway continually burne vnto the end of the worlde. Cacus, which can the arte and craft of his father, hath made this fume, and for to eſcape from thy handes, hee is deſcended with his companie in the forme of lightening or tempeſt, and thus thy ſtrength is deceiued by his Science.

When Hercules vnderſtood this that Athlas had ſaid to him, hee greatly maruelled of the ſcience of Cacus, and might not beleeue it. Then for to know the trueth, he tooke his clubbe, and went vp through the ſmoke or fume, vnto the top of the rocke, ſeeking Cacus: but hee found there neither beaſt nor man: then he returned vnto Athlas, and laughing, confeſſed to him that hee had ſaide trueth, and ſaide that he woulde make no purſuite after him, forſomuch as hee was ſo gentleman-like eſcaped. This day they paſſed ouer in ſpeaking and communing of Cacus and of his father Vulcan. The day following when the ſmoke and fume was gone and vaniſhed away, Hercules began to behold the country, and ſawe that it was commodious and fertile, and to the end that there ſhoulde euer be remembraunce and memory of him, hee founded there a citie, which he named Terracone, foraſmuch as he gaue this countrey to the ſonne of the king of Ancone, and there hee made him dwell with his people and with them of Tyre. Hercules after this foundation, went to the cittie of Salamanque, and foraſmuch as it was wel inhabited and peopled, hee would make there a ſolemne ſtudy, and did make there in the earth a great round hole in maner of a ſtudie, and hee ſette therein the ſeuen ſciences liberall with many other bookes. After he made them of the countrey to come thither for to ſtudy, but they were ſo rude and dull, that their wittes coulde not compriſe any cunning of ſcience. And then foraſmuch as Hercules woulde depart on his voiage, and woulde alſo that this ſtudy were maintained, he did make an Image or ſtatue of gold vnto his ſemblance and likeneſſe: Which hee did ſet vp on high in the middeſt of his ſtudie vpon a piller: and made ſo by his crafte and arte, that all they that came before this image for to haue declaration of any ſcience, to all purpoſes, and of all ſciences the Image anſwered, inſtructed, and taught the ſchollers and ſtudentes, in ſuch wiſe as it hadde been Hercules in his proper perſon. The renowme of this ſtudie was great in all the countrey. And this ſtudie dured after the time that ſaint Iames conuerted Spaine vnto the chriſtian faith. From Salamanque Hercules departed and went into Catalogne, and founded there the citie of Barſeloigne, which is a right good citie. And finally when he hadde accompliſhed all theſe thinges, he ſent Athlas home againe into his countrey, but he held by him all his writers, for he loued bookes aboue all the riches of the world. After he woulde giue leaue vnto Phylotes for to returne vnto his countrey. But Phylotes refuſed his congie and leaue, and ſaid to him that he would ſerue him all his life, and that hee reputed his felicitie more great to be in his ſeruice, then for to gouerne the countrey that fortune hadde put in his hand. Hercules after this, called Hiſpan, and ſaid to him: Hiſpan, I know thy wit and thy valiance. I haue found thée alway wiſe and true. Thou art a man of authoritie and well knowne in theſe Coaſtes. I do now make and conſtitute thee to be king ouer all this Countrey, and I doe giue vnto thee none other charge but to loue vertue and to enſue honou • and worſhip. When Hiſpan heard the gift that Hercules made to him, he fell downe at his feete and thanked him, and after excuſed him of ſo great worſhip. But Hercules ſaid to him, that he would that it ſhould be ſo, and deliuered to him a certain number of people of his company for to ſerue him. After he made him to depart, with great ſighes and ſorrow. And Hiſpan went then by all the coū tries that Hercules hadde conquered there from Gerion, and Cacus. And from thenceforth on, the countrey was named Spaigne, after his name: Whereof I will nowe ceaſe talking of this conqueſt of Spaigne, and will come to ſpeake of the deeds of armes that Hercules did in Lombardy, and of the death of Cacus.

CHAP. XXIIII. ¶How Hercules fought againſt the eleuen Giantes of Cremona: and how he vanquiſhed them.

WHere be now the kings, the emperours, the ſouldans, and the princes that men may ſpeake of the vertuous liberalitie of them, equall or like vnto that of Hercules? The men at this day fight one againſt other, and make mony conqueſts: but they attribute them vnto their ſingular profite. They reſemble not Hercules, that neuer fought but for the common weale of the worlde. O noble Hercules. For to follow & purſue my matter. When he made Hiſpan king of al the region of Heſperie, that now is named Spaigne, hee ſent for his Oxen, his kine and calues, and after departed from Barſelone, and tooke his way into Lombardie, he went ſo long on his iourny, that he came nigh to the city of Cremona, which is but a daies iourny frō Millane. There were thē in this city xi. giants great out of meaſure. Theſe eleuen giants were all brethren, & ſonnes of Ne • e • the ſonne of Saturne. And they called themſelues all kings of this city. They held all eſtate royal, howbeit their rnoumes were but ſmall & litle, & that becauſe they were théeues & robbed their neighbo • r, and made them alwayes warre. When then they knew that Hercules approched their citie, anon they aſſembled their councell together, and demanded the one the other, if they ſhould ſuffer Hercules for to enter into their citie? All were of one opinion; that they ſhould not receiue him, and that they woulde ſende vnto him one of them, which was named Neſtor, that he ſhould not enter into Cremona, vnleſſe he firſt had vanquiſhed in battell the eleuen brethren. Neſtor at the commandement of the giants departed from Cremona, and went to Hercules, whome he found with his litle armie but thrée mile from Cremona. Then ſpake he to Hercules, and ſayde vnto him. Sir, I haue ten brethren kings of Cremona, that haue ſent mée vnto thée, foraſmuch as they be aduertiſed that thou entreſt into their dominion, and they charge thée by me, that they will giue vnto thée no paſſage into Cremona, vnleſſe thou firſt ouercome them one after another in battel: and therefore chooſe whether thou wilt haue the battell, or els to returne againe, and leaue this voyage. I aduertiſe thée that they be all giants more great and more puiſſant then I am. Sir knight, anſwered Hercules, I haue taken my way for to paſſe by Cremona: let the giants knowe that Hercules hath intention to ſpeake vnto them more neare, as he that dreadeth not nor feareth their accuſtomed tyrannies, which I muſt deliuer the world of, by feats of armes. And foraſmuch as to the end that they preſume not that I haue any doubt or dread of them in any maner, yee ſhall ſay to them that I will not fight with them ten, one after another, but all at once together, and you with them, if you will accompany them: and for to do ſo, they ſhall finde me raedy to morow early, by day light.

Hercules with theſe wordes made his people to abide, and reſt there for that night. And Neſtor returned to his brethren, and ſayd to them: My brethren, I haue ſpoken vnto Hercules, and haue tolde him your commandement: he hath anſwered vnto mee with a right high and plaine courage, that he will fight with vs to morrow, not one after another, but with vs all at once. And for to ſpeake plainely of him, he hath the ſemblance of a man to be valourous in armes, and furniſhed with proweſſe: he is a prince very modeſt, and of great courage. Diſpoſe you well, it behoueth to furniſh well the battell. Certes the battell will be perillous, for hee is mightily membred, and as great as one of vs, but me thinketh that hee may not compare nor preuaile againſt vs eleuen, and that hee may not eſcape from our forces, but that wee ſhall pearce him with our ſwordes whatſoeuer force or ſtrength is in him. The giants ſo hearing him praiſe Hercules, had great maruaile of him, and might not beléeue Neſtor of that, that he had reported that he would fight with all together at once, for there was none of them all, but hee thought himſelfe ſtrong enough for Hercules. Then they aſked of Neſtor, and demaunded of him if he were ſure to haue well vnderſtoode that Hercules ſayd vnto him, that he would fight againſt them all at once. Neſtor anſwered, yea, and that he had heard him ſay it in his proper perſon. With this aunſwere they concluded, that on the morrow they ſhould arme them all, and that they would goe to the field for to fight againſt Hercules, if he came againſt them. One of the giants ſayd then vnto his brethren, to morrowe ſhall be the day of our glory & worſhip. Wee ſhall vanquiſh the vanquiſher of the monſters, let vs make good chéere. Brother (anſwered Neſtor) therein is no doubt but that wee ſhall ouercome and bring to the foile him that ye ſpeake of, but ſo much ſhall our glory be the leſſe, that we ſhall be eleuen againſt one. Well ſayd the other, if in fighting againſt vs eleuen, we ſhall haue the leſſe honour, let vs euery man fight for himſelfe. Brother, anſwered Neſtor, if ye had ſeene and heard him as I haue, ye would not be ſo hardy as ye ſhew ſemblance of: he is another maner of man then you wéene. Kéepe you at the offer that hee hath made, it is better to haue the moſt profite and leſſe honour in ſuch a caſe. In theſe conferences they paſſed all that day, afterward they went to reſt. When the houre was come on the morrowe earely, they aroſe and made themſelues ready in the beſt wiſe they could. After they ſent one of their men vnto Hercules, for to know if he would ſay any thing: but aſſoone as the meſſenger iſſued out of the gate, the firſt thing he ſaw, was a giant, armed marueilouſly: the meſſenger abode then, and aduiſed him a little. After he had aduiſed himſelfe, he went vnto the giant armed, & aſked him what he was. I am Hercules, ſayd the giant. What will you ſay or haue, ſayde the meſſenger. I will ſay, ſayd Hercules, that the giants of Cremona haue no cauſe for to let mee the paſſage of their citie. And foraſmuch as they let me to vnderſtand yeſterday, that if I would haue paſſage, it behooued mee to vanquiſh them one after another in the fielde by battell: I am come hither in hope to winne the victorie: and demaund no other thing but for to ſee them in armes for to fight with them all together at once, to the end to haue the ſooner done. Wherefore I pray you to goe to them, and ſignifie vnto them my comming, and that they haſte them.

The meſſenger with theſe woordes returned vnto the giants, and tolde them all what he had found. When the giants knewe that Hercules was already come into the fielde, they all tooke their ſwoordes and their furniture of warre, and departed from the citie, addreſſing themſelues againſt Hercules. Hercules was then alone in the place. The men and women of Cremona went vpon the walles and towers for to ſee the battell. And Phylotes with other noble men of the Gréekes were vpon an hill farre enough from the place where Hercules was abiding the giants. Certes, it was a faire ſight to ſée the comming of the eleuen giants. They were all well appointed & wel furniſhed with helmets inriched with gold and ſtones. They were great and ſtrong, all of one meaſure, they were bearded, and had fierce countenances: they came on and marched ſtoutly, and with a great courage. When they came nigh to Hercules within halfe a bow ſhoot, they menaced him all to death, and made a crie ſo great that the walles of the citie redounded. After they ranne againſt the aſſured prince, like as they had béene lyons: Hercules hearing theſe cries, and ſéeing their courſe on foot, hee ſtayed for them, lifting vp his clubbe ouer his head. When it came to méeting, it ſéemed well that the giants would haue all to bruiſed him with their ſwordes, for they ſmote vpon him ſo vnmeaſurably, that the pieces of their ſwords flew into the ayre. Their ſtrokes were great. Hercules ſuffered them, and beheld what power they had: but when they had made their aſſaies vpon him, Hercules made his aſſay vpon them, and with his clubbe ſmote one of the giants vpon his helme, ſo that hee all to bruiſed not onely his helme, but alſo his head, that he fell downe ſuddenly dead. When the other tenne giants ſaw that their brother was ſo dead of one ſtroke, they had great ſorrow, and their bloud was much moued. Nature willed them to take vengeance. They did that in them was, and aſſailed Hercules eagerly on all ſides. And thus beganne the battell betwéene Hercules and the giants. Hercules dreaded not any ſtroke of ſword, of ſpeare, ne pollax: his ſkinne of the lion was harde and ſtrong: his ſtrength was ſtable, and his clubbe bare all, and ſo it was néed: great were the ſtrokes that they gaue eche other. The giants did all their endeuour, and gaue ſtrokes enough to Hercules, but they coulde neuer pearce the ſkin of the lion, it was ſo hard: but yet was his clubbe more harder. The giants marueiled of the conſtance and puiſſance of Hercules. Aſſoone as Hercules had lift vp his club for to ſmite on them, his enemies that were there, leaped aſide, and other while brake his ſtrokes: howbeit he did ſo much, that in leſſe time then an houre, hee ſlewe foure of them, and the other ſeuen fought afterwarde by ſuch vigour, that the more he ſmote them with his clubbe, the more furious he found them and fierce, &c.

The battell was terrible and hard, for the giants were ſtrong, & long had vſed the ſkill of armes, and great paine had they to ſaue themſelues, and to auenge the bloud of their brethren, and for to haue worſhippe of the battell. And they ſayde, that they were infortunate, ſéeing they might not ouercome one man alone, nor match him. In fighting, they helped and comforted ech other, and had all good courage. But what profited them the great number of brethren? and what auailed them their couragious ſtrokes, when they were approching their death? Hercules was alway Hercules: he reioiced much in the plentie of his enemies, hee comforted himſelfe in fortune: fortune helped him, hee did marueiles on all ſides, well could he fight, and well defended he himſelfe, all that hee did was well done: all that other did, and indeuoured to do, was nought worth: notwithſtanding that they were mighty and hardy. But the lucke and good hap of Hercules was not to bee broken, ne his clubbe coulde not bee foyled: but hee triumphed, and more was his puiſſance to ſuſteine the furies of his aduerſaries, then their might was to charge him with their ſtrokes. O marueilous ſtrength and might of a man. His puiſſance was not of a man, but of an elephant: his ſkin of the lion, ſéemed that it had bene tempered with quicke and hard ſtéele: his body ſéemed more conſtant againſt the cutting ſwordes of all his ill willers, then is an anuill againſt the ſtrokes of many hammers or great ſledges. There was no ſtroke of his enemie that grieued him: he tooke great pleaſure in the battell, ſéeing himſelfe among ſo many giants. He ſtil greatly reioyced, and there was nothing grieuing him, but the declining of the day, which began to faile. At this houre, when the Sun withheld her rayes, and turned into the Weſt, Hercules would make an end, and ſpéede his battell. The giants began to ceaſe for to ſmite, for from the morning vnto the euening, they had fought without any ceaſing: and Hercules behaued himſelfe in ſuch wiſe, ſmiting vppon one and other, being about him, harde and ſharpely, that it befell ſo, that of ſome hée ouerthrew and brake helmets and heads, and of other, he brake armes and ſides maruellouſly, and gaue ſo many great ſtrokes, that finally; he beat downe, and to bruiſed them all, except Neſtor, which fled away when he ſaw the diſcomfiture. And therein did he wiſely, for all his brethren were there ſlaine by the hand of Hercules, &c.

When they of Cremona ſawe their Lordes dead, they had ſoone made an end of their weeping and ſorrowe, for they had béene to them hard and troubleſome. At the end of this battell, they aſſembled to councell, when they ſawe that Hercules had woonne the battaile, and concluded together, that they would yéeld themſelues to Hercules, and put themſelues to his mercy. With this concluſion they iſſued out of the gates in a great number, and came vnto Hercules, which was the conquerour of his enemies: firſt they knéeled before him downe to the ground: ſecondly, they prayed and required of him mercy: and thirdly, they ſurrendered vnto him their city and their goods, and ſayd to him, they woulde holde him for their lord during their liues. Hercules, that was pitifull and gentle vnto them that were méeke, and humbled themſelues, receiued the Cremonians into his grace, and made them to riſe & ſtand vp, and after ſent for them of his hoſte. When they were come, he brought them into Cremona, where great ioy was made vnto them, for they were glad of the death of the giants. And there was no man, nor woman, nor childe, that thanked not the gods.

By this maner was Hercules king of Cremona and inriched with a new title of victory. The firſt night that he entred into the city, he reſted him and his people: and then were they well refreſhed and right well feaſted and ſerued with vitaile. On the morrow he did cauſe to bring into the citie the bodies of the giants that were dead, and did bury them worſhipfully. And after he founded vpon them a very great tower and high, and vpon the tower he ſet xi. images or ſtatues of metall, after the faſhion of the giants that he had ſlaine, in remembrance of his victorie.

After the edification of this tower, Hercules left in Cremona, folke for to gouerne them, and departed thence for to goe further forth into the countrey. He ſtudied alway, and was neuer idle: he ſtudied ſo much, that he could make the fire artificiall, aſwell as Cacus: and founde the remedies againſt the ſame. What by armes and by his ſcience, he gate a very great glory and praiſing in Italie. He went into many places, and ouer all where he came or went, men did him honour and reuerence. What ſhall I make long proceſſe? with great good aduenture, he went ſo farre, that he came to a citie ſtanding nigh the mount Auentin, where reigned a king named Euander, which receiued him ſolemnly. It is to be noted, that when Cacus fled from Monchayo (as is ſayd) vnto this mount, hée came into Italie all diſpleaſant to haue loſt his ſeignorie. Then hee gaue leaue to depart from him to all his ſeruants, and all deſpaired alone, he went to the mount Auentin in an euening, where he was conſtrained to withdraw himſelfe, for he doubted much Hercules. When he was come aboue on this hill, he found there a great caue, and there he went in without ſupper, and then he began to be diſcomforted greatly & bitterly, & ſaid: Alas, now am I exiled & baniſhed out of all my ſeignories & lordſhips. Now haue I no ſuccour nor comfort of perſon. I dare not name me king, where I was wont by my name to make kings to trēble, alas al is turned, & become vpſide down. I haue nothing to eat, nor wote not where to lodge, vnleſſe it be with the beaſts. O poore king: where ſo any man ſo vnhappy as I? I am ſo infortunate and vnhappie, that I dare not be ſéene nor knowen. With theſe wordes he layd him downe vpon the bare ground, and layed a ſtone vnder his head, and with great paine and griefe fell aſléepe: which dured not long, for his veines were ſtrongly ſtirred, his heart was not quiet, and his body was right euilly ſuſteined. Anon he awoke, & went out of the caue, for to looke if it were nigh day: for the night troubled him, and was to him too long. But when he was come into the ayre, he ſaw no day appeare, nor ſtarres, nor moone ſhine, but he found it all darke, cloudy and thicke, and ſaw all the region of the aire couered with clouds, whereat he was greatly vexed and grieued. Then he went into the caue againe, not into the déepeſt, but at the mouth thereof, and there ſorrowful and penſiue abode without any more ſléeping till it was day.

When the day appeared, Cacus iſſued out of the caue, and went vp vnto the top of the hill, and beganne to beholde and ſée the countrey about. The countrey ſéemed to him good and faire for to liue there. After great penſiuenes, and many thoughts, he concluded in himſelfe, that he would abide there vnto the time that his fortune ceaſed, and would liue there of booties, rapin and theft. After he bethought himſelfe, that he would goe to king Pricus of Calidonie, which was his couſin, for to haue company to leade his wife with, that he had choſen, and that he would aſke and demand in mariage one of his daughters. With this concluſion he departed from the mount Auentin, and tooke the way vnto Calidony, going apace til he came thither. Some ſay that Calidony is the countrey that we call Calabrie. When Cacus was come to Calidonie, king Prycus receiued him, as it apperteined to a king, foraſmuch as he knew him, and was of his linage: and after demanded him of his tidings. Cacus began to ſigh, when he ſaw that he muſt tell his miſhappe, and then told him and recounted from the beginning to the end, howe Hercules had taken from him his realmes, and how he hadde been beſieged, and how hee was eſcaped. And foraſmuch (ſaid he) as I dare not abide in mine owne countrey, I am come hither vnto you for refuge, and to tell and count my ſorrowes. And I haue intention to holde mee on the mount Auentin in a Caue that is there vntill that time mine enemie Hercules ſhall depart from mine heritage: and I will keepe mee there ſo ſecret that no man in the world ſhall haue knowledge thereof, to the end that Hercules know it not, foraſmuch as he hath me in great hate, and he hath more greater hap and fortune in armes then I haue. And if hee knew that I were in any place, I am certaine that hee woulde come thither for to deſtroy mee. This conſidered, I haue choſen this caue for to hide me, as I haue ſaid: but forſomuch as I haue more ſorrowe in feacute;eling, then my taſte requireth, it is ſo that the eyes of a man being in great trouble, reioyce in the viſage and fight of a woman, for a woman is a gladneſſe and comfort of a man. Wherefore I require you, and pray you that ye will giue mee to wife one of your daughters. And if it pleaſe you ſo to doe, certes ye ſhall doe to me great pleaſure, and the moſt friendſhip that I may haue for this preſent time. The king Pricus anſwered and ſaide: Cacus ye be come and deſcended of high gentleneſſe, and haue great lordſhip and ſeignory in Heſperie. If fortune were againſt you this day, your highneſſe ought not therefore the worſe to be eſteemed. At this day I haue foure daughters, of whom the one is named Yole. Take whom it pleaſeth you, except Yole: for I will not yet marry her. And if yee haue any will to make any army againſt Hercules, tell it me plainly, and I will ſuccour you as a true friend. Cacus was right well content with the aunſwere of the king, and thanked him, ſaying that he would make no army for this ſeaſon, but hee woulde paſſe his time in the caue, like as he had purpoſed and concluded. Then the thrée daughters of king Pricus were ſent for, and Cacus chooſe one of them, which hee wedded, and after lay with her, and abode there two daies. At the end of two daies, he would depart, and tooke leaue of the king. The king would haue deliuered vnto him tenne knightes and tenne Squires, for to haue brought him on his way, but he refuſed them and would none. Then hee woulde haue deliuered to him certaine ladies and damſels, but of all them he took none, ſaue the two ſiſters of his wife: which would by force go with him. Thus then he departed from Calidonie, accompanied with thrée ſiſters. He was alway ſorrowfull and penſiue, and from that time forth, thus being in impatience for his miſhappe, and caſting out of his royaltie, he beganne to runne out, and bathed his axe in the bloud of the men, women and children that he mette, and put them al to death, &c.

Cacus beganne to exerciſe the déeds of furie and of tyrannie, as he was going vnto the mount Auentin. Anon as he was come, he entered into the caue, the beſt wife he could with his wiues, and the moſt ſecretly. And of this place he made a neſt of theft, and a pit of ſinnes. For the firſt night that he had lodged his wiues, he went into the village that ſtood there faſt by, & beheld the faireſt houſe, where into he entered by a window that was open, and ſlew all them that were therein: and after tooke all the goodes, aſmuch as hee might beare vppon his ſhoulders, and bare them into the caue, wheras were his wiues.

CHAP. XXV. ¶How Cacus ſtole away the oxen and kine belonging to Hercules: and how Hercules fought with him therefore, and ſlew him.

IN the morning Cacus found a right great ſtone of marble, which hee tooke and bare it vnto his caue, and made therewith his dore. The moſt part of that time Cacus held him in his caue, and went neuer out but when he would doe harme or euill. When hee went into the field, as is ſaid, he ſlew al thē that he met. He robbed euery man, he defloured women, hee burnt houſes and townes, and ſhortly ſpoiled, and did ſo much harme in Italy, that they that paſſed in the coūtrey, ſuppoſed it to be deſtroied by the Gods, and could not knowe whereof, nor from whence came theſe perſecutions that Cacus made vpon them. For to returne then to our talke of Hercules: he came vnto the citie of king Euander, in the time that Cacus bedewed Italy with bloud of men, and filled his caue with continuall ſtollen goodes. After the comming of Hercules and of his men of armes, his beefes, or oxen, were brought into the citie, becauſe the king Euander ſhoulde ſee them. The king tooke great pleaſure to behold and ſée them: for they were high and paſſing faire. After that the king had ſéene them, Hercules demanded of him, whither hee might ſend for to paſtour them, for that night? In trueth Sir, ſaide Euander, if yee will followe my councell, yée ſhall let them abide in this Citie, and not ſend them into the fieldes. Wherefore ſaid Hercules? Euander aunſwered and ſaide, foraſmuch as when we ſend out our beaſtes, we knowe not where they become. They haue beene ſtollen, and driuen away, and wee cannot knowe who be the robbers, our ſeruauntes béen murdred, the houſes be burnt, the people that ſhould labour in the field, be ſlaine, the women and maidens bee violated and put to ſhame: and wee cannot remedie it. For wee cannot haue knowledge of the authours or doers thereof. Wherefore, ſome men ſay, & will auouch it, that they be the Gods that thus puniſh vs, for our ſinnes. Wherefore I pray you let your beaſts abide in this citie, to ye end that they be not ſtollen. Sir, ſaid Hercules, ye recount and tel to me a great maruell: I beleeue well that thoſe things that ye ſay be very true. But this notwithſtanding, ſince that the Gods haue ſaued them vnto this day, they will keepe them yet if it pleaſe them. For if they will haue them, euen as well they will take them in the Citie, as in the fieldes. And if there be a robber or theefe in the countrey that will take them away, I ſuppoſe I ſhall finde him, and ſhall make Italy quite of him. With theſe wordes, Hercules ſent his beaſtes into the paſture, and there left them without any keepers. The day paſſed ouer, the night came. In this night Cacus iſſued out of his caue, and went into the countrey for to pill and rob if hee might finde any booty. Thus as he that is vnhappy ſeeketh euill, and in the end he is paid at once for his treſpaſſes, the vnhappy aduenture brought him into the medow, where as paſtured the oxen and kine of Hercules: it was nigh the morning, he had with him his three wiues. Aſſoon as he ſaw the beaſts by the light of the moone that ſhone cleere, he knew them. Anon he was all abaſhed, and his bloud chaunged in his viſage, and not without cauſe: for ſoon after his ſorrows began to grow on him, and came to the quickneſſe of the heart, that he could not ſpeake. His wiues ſeeing that he ſpake no worde, and that hee beheld the beaſtes, as all a wondred, came to him, and demaunded of him what hee • iled? Alas, aunſwered Cacus, ſince it is ſo that yee muſt needes know: I tell you for certaintie, that all the ſorrow of the worlde ariſeth in my ſtomacke, and enuironeth mine heart: for I heere ſee the oxen of the triumph of mine ennemy Hercules, and in beholding them, I remember the loſſes that I haue had by him, and the honours and worſhips that hee hath made mee for to looſe, and alſo the realmes that he hath taken away from me, and the great miſery that I am now in. Hee muſt needes be hereby in ſome place. Curſed be his comming, for I wote not what to doe: but in ſigne of vengeance, I will ſlea his oxen and his kine.

When the three ſiſters had heard yt Cacus ſo ſorrowed, they councelled him that hee ſhoulde not ſlea the beaſtes, Saying that if he ſlewe them, Hercules ſhoulde léeſe nothing, for he ſhoulde eate them. It were better ſaide his wife, that ye take and leade away as many as ye may, and bring them into our caue: for if ye doe ſo, Hercules ſhall haue loſſe and diſpleaſure, and ye ſhall haue pleaſure and profite. Cacus beleeued that his wife ſaid to him, yet hee looked in the medow al aboutes, if any man had bin there to keepe them, but hee found no man nor woman: And then he came to the beaſts, and tooke eight of the beſt that he could chuſe, foure oxen and foure kine, after hee bound them togither with a corde by the tailes, and put the corde about his necke, and drewe them ſo in that maner vnto his caue, albeit that the beaſtes reſiſted ſtrongly to go backward in that maner. Cacus brought in this maner reculing, and going backward, al thoſe beaſtes that hee ſtale, to the end that no man ſhould follow him by the traches of the feete of the beaſtes.

When he had put in his caue the beaſtes of Hercules, as ſaid is, he ſhut the doore ſo well, that a man ſhould neuer haue knowne nor perceiued that there had been anie doore. Then weening that he had been ſure, he laid him downe and ſlept. Anon after, the ſunne riſing, and that it was day, Hercules that deſired much to heare tidings of his beaſtes, aroſe vp, and did ſo vſe the matter that the king Euander brought him vnto the place, whereas his oxen and kine were. When they were come into the medow, Hercules found that he lacked foure oxen and as many kine: Whereat hee was ſore troubled, and for to knowe if the Gods had taken them, or any théeues hadde ſtollen them, he commaunded that they ſhould ſéeke all about the medowe, and ſée if the traches or the printes of the féete of the beaſtes might be ſéene or found. At this commandement, one and other began to ſéek. Some there were that looked toward the mount Auentin, and founde the ſtepps and footing of the oxen, but they thought by that footing yt the beaſts were deſcended from the mount, for to come into the medowe. When al they had ſought long, and ſaw that they found nothing, they made their report vnto Hercules, and ſaide to him, that they coulde not perceiue on no ſide where theſe oxen were iſſued out, and that on no ſide they coulde finde any ſignes nor tokens of beaſtes going out of the paſture. But right now ſaid one, I haue found the ſteppes and feete of certaine oxen, and kine, that he deſcended from the mountaine into the medow. When Hercules heard, yt from the mountaine were come oxē into the medow, he called Euander, & demanded him, what people dwelles on the mountaine. Euander ſaid to him, that thereon dwelled no man nor beaſt: and that the mountaine was not inhabited. Hercules woulde go to ſee the footing: and went thither, and hee thought well that thither might haue paſſed eight great beaſtes in that night, for the traces of the feete were great and new. Then hee woulde wete where they were become: but hee found wel that ye footing of the beaſts took their end there as they paſtured. He was then right ſore a maruelled, foraſmuch as there were no ſtrange beaſtes, and beganne to muſe. When he had a little pauſed, he beheld the mount, and ſaid, it muſt needes bee that the Gods haue rauiſhed mine oxen, or els that there is a théefe in this mountaine, that is come and hath ſtollen them, and hath led them away reculing backward. But foraſmuch as I haue leſſe ſuſpition of the Gods, then of the theefe, I will neuer depart from hence vntill the time that I haue ſearched this mountaine from one ſide to another, for my heart iudgeth, that the beaſtes be here, &c.

With this concluſion Hercules did cauſe to take diuers calues that were there, and made them to faſt till noone. During this while hee ſent for his harneis and armes by Phylotes, and armed and made him ready to fight. Anon after midday, as the calues beganne to crie and bleate for hunger, he cauſed them then to be brought about the mountaine. Thus as they paſſed by the place where the caue was, and cried, it happened that the kine that were in the caue heard them, and anſwered, crying ſo loud, that the ſound paſſed by the holes of the caue, and came to the eares of the calues, and alſo of Hercules, and of other. When Hercules heard the crie of his kine, hee abode there: his calues beganne to cry again, but his kine cried no more, for Cacus by the force of their cries was awaked, and as he that alway doubted for to bee diſcouered, roſe vp, and cut the throates of the kine. The calues then naturally knowing their dammes, cried very loud, and bleated as they that deſired the milke for to liue by. Howbeit they coulde not ſo loud cry, that their dammes aunſwered them: heereof maruelled much Hercules. Then he approched the mount, and went vnto the place where him ſéemed that he hadde heard the kine, and was there full three houres ſeeking if hee could finde any hole or caue or way to paſſe by. But howbeit that hee paſſed many times by the entry of the caue, hee could neuer perceiue it. Some ſaid, that the noiſe and bleating that they had heard of the kine, was come by illuſion. The other ſaid, that Hercules loſt his labour and trauell, and praied him to leaue to ſéeke any more, for they thought them not recouerable. In the end when Hercules had heard one & other, and ſaw that hee might not come to ye end of his deſire, in a great anger he tooke in both armes a great tree that grewe there, and ſhooke it three times with ſo great force, that at ye third time he ouerthrew it root and all, in ſuch wiſe that the roote that came out of the earth made a very great large hole ſo déepe, that the bottome of the caue was ſéene plainly.

When Hercules ſawe the great hole that the roote of the tree had made, hee was right ioyfull and glad, and ſaid: truely it is here that the great théefe dwelleth. I muſt ſée if he be heere, and what marchantes inhabite in this place. In ſaying theſe wordes, Hercules bowed downe his head, and beheld on the one ſide of the caue, where hee ſaw Cacus. Aſſoone as he ſaw the theefe, he knew him anon, whereof he was more ioyous than he was before, and called to him, Cacus I ſee thee, thou haſt before this time troubled the realmes of Heſperie with innumerable treſpaſſes and great ſins that thou didſt commit openly and manifeſtly. This was the cauſe of the deſtruction of thy ſeignory. Now thou troubleſt the Italians with tyrannies ſecret and vnknowne. I know thy life. Thou maieſt not denie it, nor gainſay it. It behooueth that thou die therefore, and that I make the Italians franke and free from thine horrible and odious thefts. O curſed man, if thy crownes, thy Diademes, thy Scepters, thy renowns, thy royall men, might not maintaine thee: Why then, and wherefore art thou wrapped here ſtill in ſinnes, and amendeſt not, for all thy puniſhment that thou haſt ſuffered, but yet ſtill in the ſteed and place that thou ſhouldeſt diſpoſe thee to that, that appertaineth to a king and a prince, thou haſt been a theefe. In ſteed to doe iuſtice, thou haſt been a murderer, and a putter in of fire to burne villages and houſes. And where thou ſhouldeſt haue kept and ſaued womē, thou haſt defloured them and done them villany. O caitife king, without coniuring or pining of thee, Certes, I ſee well, that thou art hee that the Italians know not, and that thou haſt perſecuted thē. Thy malice hath been great and thy ſubtiltie, ſeeing that this day thou wert neuer bewraied, and haſt done great miſchiefe. But thy cunning is not ſo great, nor haſt not thou ſo hid thée, but thou art right nigh peril, for thou ſhalt yeeld to me againe my Oxen. And to conclude, thou ſhalt put mee to death, or thou ſhalt die by my hand, and thou ſhalt not eſcape by running, nor by thy ſubtile ſhiftes.

When Cacus vnderſtood this ſentence, he was exceedingly afraid, neuertheleſſe he lifted vp his head, and ſeeing that he was found by Hercules, the onely man of the world that he moſt hated, he ſaid to him: Alas Hercules, a man all corrupted with couetouſneſſe: what curſed fortune hath made thee to draw out the tree whereof the profound and déepe rootes hath couered the ſecret abode of king Cacus late reigning, but nowe depriued from reigning, and baniſhed from all worldly proſperitie? Suffiſeth it not to thee, that I may haue the vſe of my natural forces to liue by, when thou haſt taken al away from me, and that I am forced to liue of robbery and ſpoile, whereof the blame and fault ought to redound vpon thee: Why ſuffereſt thou not me to liue and drawe forth the reſidue of my poore life, among the ſtones, among the rockes, and among the wormes of the earth? Conſider nowe, what thou haſt done to this king, and ſeeke him no more. Thou haſt hurte and greeued him enough. Hercules anſwered Cacus. In the déepeſt of thy depthes of wretchedneſſe and miſeries, thy demerites wil accuſe thee: and I am right ſory and greeued to ſée a king in ſo wofull and ſhamefull eſtate: but ſeeing thou canſt not beautifie thy dayes paſſed or preſent with one onely good deed, what remedie? thou haſt dayly exerciſed tyranny as well in proſperitie as in aduerſitie. I wote well that thou art the newe perſecuter of the Italians, and that thy hand is all foule with their bloud. I ſéeke thée not, nor the Italians can ſay nothing of thee. And for aſmuch as they complaine not of thee, hauing cauſe to their preiudice, this tree hath ſpoken for them, and by his rootes hee hath diſcouered thine ambuſh. So behoueth it that thou chooſe, whether thou wilt come and fight with me here in the aire at large, or els that I come and aſſaile thée there within. For if it be to me poſſible, I will deliuer the world from thy tyrannies, &c.

By this anſwere, Cacus knew that there was no reſpite for his life. Then he intended to ſaue him as he had done aforetime, and made by his crafte ſo great a ſmoke and fume, that it ſéemed to come out of the hole that the tree had made, as it had ben a very pitte of hell. And this fume was mingled with flames burning as it was maruaile. For all this fume Hercules left not Cacus, but leapt into the Caue, in the middle of the flames and fume, as he that was maiſter of the craft, and was quickly purueied of remedies that thereto appertained, and went in luſtily and aſſailed Cacus, in ſuch wiſe as he felt no fume nor let: and then hee gaue him ſo great a ſtroke vpon the helme with his clubbe, that he made him to hit his head againſt the walles of the caue. Cacus with the receiuing of this ſtroke, let the fume diſgorge out of his ſtomacke, ſeeing that by that maner he could not eſcape, and tooke his huge great axe, that ſtood by him, for to defend him with. Hercules ſuffered him to take his axe. Cacus ſmote vpon him, for the caue was not large: & they fought long therein. Vnto the reſkewe of Cacus came the thrée ſiſters, that made great ſorrowe, and did caſt ſtones vppon Hercules in great aboundaunce, and wept bitterly.

Theſe three damſels loued very wel Cacus. Hercules and Cacus fought more then a long houre without ceaſing. At the end of the houre, they were both ſo ſore chafed, that they muſt needes reſt them. Then Cacus tooke in himſelfe a great pride, for he was ſtrong of body, and him ſéemed, when he had reſted, that Hercules was not ſo ſtrong as hee had been afore times, & that he might neuer vanquiſh him, foraſmuch as he had not ouercome at the beginning. By this preſumption hee demaunded of Hercules, if he would finiſh the battell without the caue. Hercules anſwered, that he was content. With this aunſwere Cacus tooke away the ſtone that ſhut the caue, and went out, and in going after him, Hercules eſpied his kine that were dead in a corner, and his oxen that were bounden by the muſſels vnto a piller: He was ſory when he ſawe his kine in that caſe. Neuertheleſſe hee paſſed forth, and purſued Cacus, that reached out his armes, and made him ready, and ſaide to him: Thou curſed theefe, thou haſt done to me great diſpleaſure to haue ſlaine my kine. Yea (curſed theefe thou thy ſelfe) anſwered Cacus, yet haſt thou done to mee more diſpleaſure, to haue ſlaine my men and taken away my realmes. Thou art onely culpable of the euill that I haue done, and of the death of thy kine. I would it pleaſed the Gods, that I had thee as well in my mercy, as I had them: be thou ſure that thou ſhouldeſt neuer take away realm from no man: and now let vs diſpatch our battaile. At theſe wordes, Hercules and Cacus ſmote each other right ſore, and with great fury ſo as their ſtrokes cleaued to their harneis, & made a great noyſe. At this noiſe, the king Euander and the Gréekes came to the battaile, for to ſée it, which they made before the entry of the caue, whereas were the thrée ſiſters paſſing deſolate. Cacus enforced him with all his puiſſance: For he ſaw it was time, then or neuer to ſhew and put forth all the force that he might. Hee handled his axe right mightily, and well was him need ſo to doe. Hee was hard and boyſterous: he gaue many a ſtroke to Hercules. And him ſeemed otherwhile that hee ſhoulde confound him vnto the déepe pit of the earth. But Hercules on his ſide failed not, though he had a ſtrong party againſt him: He was alſo ſtrong at the combate, and more ſtrong then was good for ye health of Cacus. He ſmote neuer Cacus, but he turned his eies in his head, or made him ſtoup, or knéele on the one ſide or the other, or to go back ſhamefully. This battaile by long during gréeued the beholders, they ſo aſſailed eche other, and fought hard on both ſides. Finally, they did ſo much that they were driuen to reſt them, and that all their bodies ſwette all aboutes. When Hercules ſawe, that yet was not the victory wonne, and that the night approched, he had great ſhame in himſelfe, that he had held ſo long battaile. Then he began to lay on Cacus ſo hard, and redoubled his ſtrokes with ſuch force vpon Cacus ſo fiercely, that at laſt hee bare him downe to the ground all aſtonied, and made him to looſe his axe, and then tooke off his helme. The three ſiſters fledde then into a forreſt named Oeta, all ful of teares and cries. Many Gréekes would haue gone after: but Hercules made them to returne. After hee called the king Euander and his folke, and ſaid to the king. Sir, lo here is he that was wont to trouble the Italians with ſecret murders, couert theftes, and vnknowne defiling of women. Giue no more ſuſpition to the Gods. Lo here is the miniſter and doer of theſe treſpaſſes, I haue intention to puniſh him, not only after his deſert, but vnto the death.

Euander anſwered to Hercules and ſaid: Prince excellent and worthy aboue all worthies, and the moſt beſt accompliſhed of all men flouriſhing in armes: What reuerence is to thée due? thou deſerueſt not only humane reuerence, but that reuerence that is of diuine nature: I beléeue aſſuredly that thou art a God, or the ſon of a God, or els a man deiſied. Thou in eſpeciall haſt ſeene more in a moment, then all the eyes in generall of all the Italians haue ſeene, not in a whole yeare, but in an hundred yeres. O the bright reſplendant ſunne of noble men, and faire ſhining with glorious feates and deedes: how may wee thanke thee, and giue thée land for thy deſert in this great worke? Thou (by thy moſt excellent labour) haſt diſburdened vs from darkneſſe, and haſt giuen vs light of cleereneſſe: thou haſt effected more then the great troups and all the aſſemblies & men of armes of Italians would haue béene able to do. Thou haſt gotten more triumph in chaſtiſing of this giant paſſing terrible, thē we be able to reward thee for. Truly if thou be not a god, thou haſt from the gods their ſingular grace. I promiſe to thée, in remembrance of this labour, to build a ſolemne temple in my citie, where thou ſhalt haue an altar, and vpon the altar ſhall be thy repreſentation of fine golde, and the repreſentation of this tyraunt, in ſhewing how thou haſt vanquiſhed him, to the end that our heires and ſucceſſors in time comming, may haue thereof knowlege.

During theſe wordes, Cacus refreſhed him, who was aſtonied of the ſtroke that he had receiued, and thought to haue fled: but Hercules ranne after, and caught holde of him, and embraced him in his armes, ſo hard that he could not ſtirre from him, and brought him againe, & bare him vnto a deepe pit that was in the caue, where he had caſt in all ordures and filth. Hercules came vnto this foule pit that the Gréekes had founde, and put Cacus therein, his head downward from on high vnto the ordure beneath. Then the Italians came about the pit, and caſt ſo manie ſtones vpon him, that he died there miſerably. Such was the end of the poore king Cacus: he died in an hole full of ordure & of ſtincking filth. When the king Euander ſaw that hee was dead: by the conſent of Hercules, hee made him to be drawen out of the pit, and cauſed him to be born into his citie, whereas Hercules was receiued ſo triumphantly, that no man can rehearſe. The feaſt was great that night in the palace of king Euander, and paſſed with great ioy. On the morrow the king Euander cauſed to be ſet forth the body in the common view and ſight of all the people, and afterward ordeined certeine folke thereto • it and meet, to carie this miſerable corps or body thorow all the cities where he had done harme, and for to count and rehearſe to them his life. What ſhal I make long rehearſall? When the body was ſhewed in the citie of king Euander, they that had the gouernance thereof, bare it into diuers places, and alway they praiſed Hercules. In remembrance of the nouelty of this victory, the king Euander made to beginne the Temple that he had promiſed to Hercules, & required Hercules, that he would abide there in that countrey vntill the time that his Temple ſhoulde be fully made and finiſhed. Hercules beheld how the king Euander did labour about building his temple, with all diligence, and agreed to his requeſt, foraſmuch as him ſéemed that the Temple would be ſhortly made. And ſome books ſay, that long time before, the god Mars had promiſed to Hercules, that there ſhould be a temple made vnto him: and for that cauſe he was come into Italy, for to wit if his deſtiny ſhould happen or no. And when the Italians heard recount the birth of Hercules, they beléeued better, that he was the ſonne of god Iupiter, then of Amphitrion.

CHAP. XXVI. ¶How the queene of Laurentia grew inamored of Hercules: and how the king Pricus came into Italie with a great hoſte, and ſent to defie Hercules.

THe glorious déeds of Hercules were greatly recommended in Italy, aſwel for that he had vanquiſhed the giants of Cremona, as for the death of Cacus. So great was his renoume, that during the building of his temple, all maner people came thither, for to ſee him, and did to him diuine honours, naming him the ſonne of god Iupiter. The kings and the lords came to him, for to giue him gifts and rich preſents. Among all other, the quéene of Laurentia came thither from her citie, with manie chaires and chariots, filled and laden with iewels, and preſented them to Hercules. Hercules receiued into his grace this quéene & her preſents, and thanked her greatly. This quéene had to name Facua, and was wife of the king Fanus, ſonne of the king Pricus, the ſonne of Saturne: ſhe was yong, freſh, tender, and full of luſtineſſe. She had not ſéene king Fanus her huſband in foure yere, for he was gone into a farre countrey, and was not in all this time come againe. So it happened that after ſhe firſt began to take héed of and beholde Hercules, and to marke him well, ſhe began to deſire his company and acquaintance: and ſhe loued him ſo ſore and excéedingly, that ſhée could not turne her eyes nor her thoughts vppon none other thing but vpon Hercules. In the beholding & ſéeing him, ſhe ſayd in her heart, that he was the moſt well fauouored man, and proper without compariſon, that euer ſhe ſaw, and that of right men ſhould giue him laud & praiſe, ſaying moreouer, that her ſéemed that her heart was intangled with the fire of his loue: many cogitations and thoughts ran in her minde. Nowe was ſhe awaked and quickned with a ioyous ſpirit, & eftſoone all penſiue. She paſſed ſo the firſt day that ſhe came in this maner wt Hercules. When ſhe was gone away for to reſt, ſhe layd her downe on a bed all clothed, and there ſhe began to thinke on the beautie of Hercules with ſo ardent deſire, that ſhe could not abſteine from wéeping, & ſore wiſhed after him: whereof the end was ſuch, that after many imaginations, about the gray morning, ſhe began to ſay vnto her ſelfe: O fortune, what man, what priuie, what king haſt thou brought into this countrey? This is not a king like other. This is an image ſingular, and like as if the gods had made him by nature to exceede and triumph aboue all her other ſubtill workes and labours. All glory ſhineth in him not onely by his valiant proweſſe, but by his ſimple and ſacred perfection of bodie, to which may be made no compariſon. O cleere image among the nobles, who is ſhe ſéeing his eyes, that with one onely ſight will not haue her heart thorowly pearſed? who is ſhe that will not couet and deſire his grace? The moſt fortunate of al happie, and well fortuned ſhall ſhe be that may get his good will: he is humble, faire, pleaſant, and laughing: he is a treaſure. O deare treaſure: like as the golde paſſeth all other maner mettals, in like ſort he paſſeth all other works of nature in all proſperities: how then ſhal I not loue him? As long as I ſhall liue, his name ſhall remaine written in my memory, and his beauty ſhall not be forgotten, but remaine for a memoriall eternall,

Great were then the praiſes that Facua vttered of Hercules: ſhe forgate anon the king Fanus, and put him all in neglect for the loue of Hercules. She was there a certaine ſpace of time, and alway thought on Hercules. Hercules that thought nothing of her, made vnto her no ſemblance nor ſigne of loue: howbeit he talked oft times with her, and with the wife of the king Euander, named Carmenta. The more he conferred with them, the more was Facua in great paine by the inflaming of loue: ſome time ſhe loſt her colour and countenance, but certainly ſhe couered it, and hid it ſo well, that no man tooke héede of it. Then when ſhe had bene there eight dayes, bearing ſuch grieuous paine, ſhe ſaw that Hercules could not perceiue the loue that ſhee had to him: for to come to the end of her deſire, ſhe came on a day to Hercules, and humbly required him that he would come and take the paines to come to her houſe, for to paſſe the time, whiles the king Euander there finiſhed his temple. Hercules accorded, and agreed vnto her requeſt, whereat ſhe had very great ioy in her ſelfe. They then diſpoſed themſelues for to goe vnto Laurencia, and tooke leaue of the king Euander, and of the queene, and ſo tooke their way. Thus then going, Hercules was alway by the ſide of Facua, who reaſoned of many things by the way: and alway Facua had her amorous eyes fixed on the view of Hercules, that at laſt Hercules began to take heed, and ſayd to her ſoftly thus: Lady, you doe me great worſhippe to bring me into your houſe. Alas ſir, anſwered Facua, I do to you nothing but trouble you: for I haue not the power to feaſt you and make you chéere as I fain would. Lady (ſaid Hercules) the good chéere that ye beſtow on me, is to me acceptable, ſo that from henceforth ye bind mine heart for to bée willing to fulfill your will in ſuch wiſe that there is nothing that ye deſire, but I will accompliſh it at your commandement, after my power, as to anie the moſt beſt accompliſhed lady that is in the Weſt part. Facua with theſe wordes began to ſmile, and anſwered. Sir, I haue nothing done for you: and ye are not ſo beholding to me as ye ſay. Howbeit I thanke you for your good worde. And thereof I hold me right fortunate and happy, for that the moſt worthy man of all • en dayneth to accompany one ſo poore a lady as I am. Lady (anſwered Hercules) I take not that to be attributed rightly to me, to ſay, that I am the moſt worthy of men: for there haue béen many better then I am. But certes the more ye ſpeake, the more ye make me your ſubiect. And ſince you doe to mee ſo great honour, I requeſt you as much as I may, that I may be your knight, and that ye take power ouer mée to commaund me to doe your wil and pleaſure. Sir, ſaid Facua, will ye that it be ſo? Lady (anſwered Hercules) alas yea. I will not commaund you, ſaid Facua, but I will giue you ouer me aſmuch ſeignorie and lordſhip as it ſhall pleaſe you to take. Hercules with the ſame word, would faine haue kiſſed the lady, and had done it, had it not béen for the worſhip of her, which hee woulde keepe. They had enough of other conferences. From that day forth Hercules intended to pleaſe the lady more then hée had done before. And ſhortly hee acquainted himſelfe ſo with her, and ſhe with him, that they lay togither ſecretly. And he begat on her a ſonne that was named Latine, which was afterward of great gouernment.

During theſe things, whiles that Hercules and Facua had this good time in Laurencia, tidinges came that the king Fanus was comming. Facua, that then began firſt to ioy in the loue of Hercules, was paſſing ſorie and heauy, when ſhe heard theſe tidings, for ſhee firmly fixed her heart on Hercules. Sodainly the teares all blubbered her eies. And ſo wéeping ſhe came into a chamber where as Hercules was: then ſhée tooke him apart, and ſaid to him. Alas my loue, I ſhall die for ſorrow. Lady, ſaid Hercules, wherefore? Forſomuch ſaid ſhe, as my huſband the king Fanus commeth home: It is full foure yeare ſince I heard of him, I had ſuppoſed he had been dead, but hee is not. His herbingours and fourriers bee come before, and ſay, that he will ſuppe héere this day. Alas, what euil aduenture is this? we muſt néedes now depart, and our communication ſhall faile. With this word the lady embraced Hercules, and fell downe in a ſowne in his lappe. Hercules tooke her vp, and comforted her the beſt wiſe he could, and ſaid to her, that ſince it is ſo that ſhee was married, it was reaſon that ſhee abode ſtill with her huſband. Whatſoeuer Hercules ſaid vnto the Ladie, ſhee coulde not kéepe her from weeping, nor bewailing her loue, and her bewailinges were great. In the end ſhee went into her chamber, and dried her eyes, and brake off her dolorous weeping aſmuch as ſhe could, arraying and apparrelling her in ſuch wiſe, as if ſhee had been ioyous and glad of the comming of her huſband, who came ſoone after, and entred into his citie with great triumph.

Hercules and Facua went againſt the king Fanus. When the king Fanus ſaw Hercules, hee did to him as much honour and worſhip as he could doe: Foraſmuch as he had heard ſay, and was aduertiſed of the deeds of arms that he had done againſt the giants of Cremona, and againſt Cacus: and thanked him, forſomuch as hee was come into his citie. For concluſion, Hercules abode there foure daies after that Fanus was come home: on the fifth day hée conſidered, that hee might no more enioy his loue, and that he did nothing there but looſe his time: ſo he tooke leaue of the king Fanus, and of the queene Facua, and returned vnto the houſe of the king Euander, where he held him, and abode vnto the time that his temple was made and accompliſhed. About the conſummation of this temple, an Herauld of Calidonie, came to Hercules, and ſignified to him, that the king Pricus came againſt him with a great puiſſance of men of armes, for to reuenge the bloud of Cacus his couſen: and that he charged Hercules, that he hadde without a cauſe (and cruelly put to death one ſo noble a king as Cacus was: and ſaid to him moreouer that if he would mainteine the contrary, on the morrow early he ſhould finde the king Pricus in the ſame place where the bloud of king Cacus was ſhed: and that there, by mortall battell, by puiſſance againſt puiſſance, he would prooue it true that he ſaid.

When Hercules had wel heard, what the king Pricus had ſignified to him: he had his heart all full of ioy, and anſwered to the Herauld, that the death that he had made Cacus to die, was a worke of iuſtice, and that vppon the quarrell, hee woulde furniſh by battell the king Pricus, at the houre and place that hee had ſaid. After this aunſwere thus made, Hercules gaue vnto the Herauld has gowne that he ware, and did him to be feaſted right wel, ſaying, that he had brought him tidinges of pleaſaunce. When the herauld had had good chéere, and wel feaſted, as Hercules had commanded: He returned vnto the king Pricus, & tolde him, what Hercules had anſwered to him, and that he ſhould haue on the morrow the battaile. The king Pricus, that ſuppoſed to haue wonne all by aduantage of multitude, (for he had in his hoſte mo then thirty thouſand men) thanked the Gods of theſe tidinges: and came and lodged him the ſame night, nigh vnto the mount Auentin, vpon the riuer of Tyber. He made him readie then for to fight this battaile. And likewiſe Hercules: eche man on his ſide thought on his workes. The night paſſed ouer, and on the morrow as ſoone as it began to dawn, the king Pricus & Hercules began to ſound their great tabours, and with that ſound, their men put them in armes to be ready, and after trained in battaile order. And ſo they came both parties, as well the one as the other, into the ſame place where the bloud of king Cacus had béen ſhed, &c.

CHAP. XXVII. ¶How Hercules fought againſt the king Pricus in battaile: and how he fled into the Citie, where Hercules alone ſlew him and many mo with him.

ABout fiue of the clocke in the morning, Hercules and Pricus aſſembled at the battaile: from as farre as Pricus ſawe Hercules, hee made a maruellous cry. With this cry, all the Calidoniens began to runne againſt Hercules▪ and made ſo great a noiſe that it ſéemed that there was not people enough in all the world for them. But certainly like as a ſmall raine abateth or laieth downe a great winde, in likewiſe Hercules alone laid downe their ouer great boaſting and vproare. For aſſoone as he ſawe his enemies runne againſt him, about a quarter of a mile off, hee departed from his battaile that was well ſet in order, and after that he hadde commaunded his folke that they ſhoulde not haſte for nothing, hee beganne to runne againſt the Calidoniens ſwiftly, not like an horſe, but like an Hart that no man might ouertake. The king Euander was all abaſhed for to ſée in Hercules ſo great nimbleneſſe and ſwiftneſſe. Pricus and the Calidoniens, when they ſawe him mooue from the hoſte, they ſuppoſed that it had béen a horſe or other beaſt. In the end when Hercules was come nigh to them, within the ſpace of a bow ſhot, they knewe that it was Hercules, whereat they were ſore abaſhed of his comming. Pricus cried to haue ſet his men vppon him. They ſhot arrowes, and caſted dartes and ſpeares vpon Hercules, againſt all the partes of his body: neuertheles they coulde neuer pierce nor enter into the ſkinne of the Lion, and he neuer reſted till hee hadde accompliſhed his courſe, thruſting him among his enemies ſo mightily, that ouerthrowing all before him, like as it hadde béen a tempeſt or thunder, hee went into the midſt of the hoſte, whereas there was the chiefe banner of the king Pricus.

Hercules abode and ſtaied there, but beganne to ſmite and lay on vpon the one ſide and the other, and to die his ſword with the bloud of the Calidoniens. His ſworde was ſo heauy that no man might endure it, it al to bruſed all that it raught. It made the place red, whereas the bloud of Cacus was ſhedde, with bloud vppon bloud, and with dead men vpon dead. Then was not the ſhame and death of king Cacus auenged, but augmented vppon the perſons of his friendes, in abundance of ſlaughter and of murther. The crie aroſe greatly about Hercules: he brake and all to rent the banners, and the recogniſances of the Calydoniens, and of their conductors: there was none ſo hardy, but he draue him away: and there was none ſo reſolute, but he was afraid and trembled. All the beſt and hardieſt fled before him. Then hee made what ſpoile hee would with his enemies. Theſeus, Euander, and other came then vnto the battaile. At this conflict there was many a ſpeare broken, many a halberd and many a helm broken, and many a knight ſmitten in peeces. The Calidoniens were in great number, and there were many of them ſtrong and mightie. The battaile was right ſtrong and mighty and fierce. The king Pricus ſet formoſt before vppon the Gréekes, and laboured with his hand right cheualrouſly. And Hercules and Theſeus did worthily and deſeruing memory: they ranne from ranck to rancke, and brake the ranckes of their enemies. They comforted and encouraged their men, and ſhewed to them how they ſhoulde doe. Their feates and deedes were ſo great, that it is impoſſible to recount and tell: for in little time they put their enemies in deſpaire. What ſhall I ſay? all the diſcomfiture was in the Calidoniens, for by force of armes they abode vppon the fielde for the moſt part. And then when the king Pricus ſaw, that his people could no more fight, and that he loſt on all ſides, & that fortune was againſt him in all points, after hee had ſore labored, & that he had néed of reſt, hee withdrew him out of the preaſe, & ſounded a retrait, and with the ſound, the Calidoniens turned back, and fled after king Pricus.

When Hercules ſaw that the Calidoniens withdrew thēſelues, he made in like wiſe his Gréeks to withdraw them: not for any need they had, but for to ſhewe their emies, that they woulde well that they ſhoulde reſt them. In this wiſe the battell ceaſed, Hercules ſuppoſing that the Calidoniens would aſſemble on the morrowe when they had reſted them: but they withdrewe themſelues, ſome heere and ſome there. The day paſſed, the night came on: then the king Pricus aſſembled his folke, and ſhewed to them their loſſe, and the ſtrength and might of the Greekes, and in eſpeciall of Hercules. After hee ſaid to them, that they could neuer conquer them, and that they could no wiſelier doe then to withdrawe them, and to returne into their countrey. The Calidoniens that dreaded Hercules more then the death, or tempeſt, or thunder of the heauen: had great ioy, when they vnderſtood the will of king Pricus: and anſwered all with one accord, that they were ready to go forth on the way. With this anſwer they concluded, that they ſhould leaue their tentes, their cartes and armours, for to go lightly and more ſecretly. After this they tooke their way, according to their concluſion, & faire and ſoftly they went their way without making ſtir or noiſe, and did trauel ſo much this night yt on the morrow they were far from Hercules. After this, on ye morrow when Hercules eſpied that they were fled, he and his men purſued after ſwiftly, howbeit they could not ouertake them. For, to ſpéede the matter, the king Pricus returned into Calidonie. Hercules purſued him into his citie, which was ſtrong with walles, and beſieged him. During this ſiege, there was neuer a Calidonien that durſt come out. Hercules oft times aſſaulted the citie, but he loſt his labour. At length, when he ſaw that he could not get ne win vpon his enemies, he called his Gréeks, and ſayd to them: that man that ventureth not winneth nothing. We ſoiourne here without doing any thing worthy of memory. Our enemies will not come againſt vs, vnleſſe we fetch them, and thus we ſhal haue no end: ſhortly we muſt all win or looſe. Wherfore I thinke it beſt that I diſguiſe me, and goe vnto the gate, & let the porters vnderſtand that I haue an errand vnto the king: and heereupon, if I may enter, I will goe vnto the king, & ſo deale, if it be poſſible, that he ſhall neuer aſſault me any more in battell. And if it happen that I may ſo doe, as I haue tolde you, I will that ye aſſaile the citie aſſoone as I ſhall be within, to the end that the Calidonians may haue to do with you aſwell as with me, and that I haue them not all at once vpon me.

When Theſeus and Euander vnderſtoode well what Hercules would do, they anſwered, that they were ready to obey all his commandements, and that they would aſſault the citie, after his ſaying. Then Hercules arrayed himſelfe like as he had béene an embaſſadour, and Theſeus & the Gréeks diſpoſed themſelues to make the aſſault. When al was ready, Hercules departed and came & knocked at the gate of Calidonie: the porters looked out at a little window, to ſee who knocked there, and ſéeing that there was but one man in a long gowne, they opened to him the gate, and aſked him what he would haue? Hercules anſwered, that he ſought the king. And what would ye with him, ſaid one of the porters? Hercules ſayd, I would faine ſpeake vnto his perſon: and ſaying theſe wordes, the porters ſawe that Hercules was armed vnder the gowne: and then at few wordes they cried, vppon him, and laid at him before and behinde, ſaying that he was a traitor, and that hee was come to eſpie the citie. When Hercules ſaw him to ſet vpon by the porters, he was there as he would be, and had great ioy: which hee couered vnder ſimple countenance, and made at the beginning ſemblance that he would haue fled away and eſcaped: but hée emploied ſo little of his ſtrēgth, that the porters brought him vnto the king Pricus, which ſate in the hall with his daughters and his princes, & preſented him to him, ſaying: Sir, lo heere is a traitour, that is entered into your citie for to eſpie your power. We haue taken him: he ſaid that he would ſpeake vnto your perſon, and hée is armed vnder his mantel as ye may ſée: it is a right euil token: for a man deſiring to ſpeake to a king, ſhould in no wiſe be armed priuily nor couertly.

When the king vnderſtood the accuſation of the Porters, whiles they ſpake, hee beheld Hercules, and knew him: Whereat hee was ſo ſore afraid, that hee wiſt not what to ſay. Hercules then beſtirred himſelfe and wrung himſelfe out of the holding of the porters, caſting them downe to the ground ſo hard and ſo greeuouſly, that they neuer after might reléeue themſelues. When the Calydoniens that were in the hall, ſaw him ſo euill intreate the porters, they threatned Hercules vnto the death, and aſſailed him on all ſides. His gowne was then anon rent off. In bickering he receiued many a ſtroke, and alway he defended himſelfe without diſplaying of his power and of his ſtrength, as he that awaited for the tidings of the aſſault that was nigh. The affray was great in the hall and in the citie on al partes, the Calidoniens ranne to the pallace, for to aſſaile Hercules. King Pricus made him ready, & came with other vnto this fray. Then was Hercules aſſailed fiercely: but this aſſault was déere to ye king: for to his welcome Hercules came to the tabernacle that ſtoode vppon foure great barres of yron, whereof hee tooke the one, and beat downe the tabernacle. After he lifted vp his arme with the bar, and ſmote the king Pricus ſo vnmeaſurably vpon the • o • of his helmet, that notwithſtanding his ſtrong harneſſe and armours, he all to beat him downe to the earth, and ſmote him ſo ſore broken and bruiſed, that he fell downe dead betwéene his two porters.

At this time the crie aroſe great among the Calidonians. Not alonely there, but alſo in the citie (for hee that kept the watch ſounded to armes, foraſmuch as the Greeks aſſailed haſtily the walles.) Calidony was then terribly troubled, and the Calidonians wiſt not where to turne them, whether to Hercules, or to the aſſault. All was full of heades armed, aſwell in the pallace as vppon the walles. After this that Hercules had ſlaine the king Pricus, he beganne to ſmite vppon his enemies, and his ſtrokes were great, at ech ſtroke he ſlew two or three, ſo as ſhortly he bare himſelfe there a knightly, that in little while hee couered all the pauement of the pallace with dead bodies of the Calidonians, lying one vpon another, without that any man might dammage his armor. The Calidonians were of great courage, and had great ſhame for that they might not ouercome Hercules, that alone had done vpon them ſo great an exploit. They aſſailed him with great courage, and caſt vpon him darts & ſharpe iauelines. His armes and his ſhoulders bare all, and he did ſo great things with his barre, and gaue ſo great ſtrokes, that none of them might reſiſt his ſtrength. The poore Calidonians came thither with great courage and deſire for to reuenge the death of their king. Hercules put ſo many to death, that hee wiſt not where to ſet his foote, but it muſt be vpon Calidonians. Before the gate of the pallace was a pitifull noiſe of wéepings & of cries, that women and children made. In the end, when the Calidonians knew and perceiued the vertue & the ſtrength of Hercules, and that they laboured in vaine, they ceaſſed to aſſaile him, and fled. Then Hercules iſſued out of the pallace with his barre all couered with bloud. Aſſoone as the Calidonians ſaw him, they ſet vpon him paſſing furiouſly, and aſſailed him anew: they caſt ſtones and darts vpon him, they ſhotte arrowes on him aboundantly, as they that were purueyed, and awaited for his paſſage. In this aſſault Hercules had much to ſuffer: yet after receiuing moe ſtrokes then canne be numbred, he paſſed the watch, that awaited to haue ſtaine him, and reſted neuer till he came vnto the gate.

The Calidonians ranne then after him, as men without dread of death, and mightily ſwollen with pride and ire, beganne on anew to ſmite vppon his ſhoulders, and vpon his backe. When Hercules ſaw that, he turned his face vppon his euill willers, and ſmote vppon them with his barre, on the right ſide, and on the left ſide, ſo luſtily, that he died his barre with newe bloud: and maugre his enemies, he beat them downe, and all to bruiſed them before him. He made them then to recule and go backe more then fourtie paſes: and after came to the gate. And the Calidonians purſued him againe: but ere they came vpon him, he all to brake & bruiſed, and to fruſhed the lockes, and the wickets, and doores of the gate: and the Greekes aſſailed him with all their power, and beate downe the draw bridge. After he called the aſſailants, and they came vnto him, and with little reſiſtance they entred the citie, which was at that time with great ſlaughter of the Calidonians that would not yéeld themſelues, nor put themſelues to mercy, vntill the time that they ſaw their ſtréets and houſes full of dead bodies. &c.

CHAP. XXVIII. ¶How Hercules was enamoured on Yole the daughter of king Pricus: and how he required her of loue: and how ſhe accorded vnto him.

BY this maner was king Pricus ſlaine, and his city taken by Hercules. After the ſlaughter, when ye Calidoniens had hū bled themſelues, Hercules and Theſeus went to the pallace, & they came thither ſo fitly, that they found the daughters of king Pricus, with their ladies and gentlewomē, ſéeking the king among the dead bodies. There were ſo manie dead bodies, that they could not finde nor know him that they ſought. Hercules at his comming beganne to behold one and other, and eſpecially among al other, hee caſt his eie vppon Yole, the daughter of the king: foraſmuch as ſhe was excellently gliſtering in beautie, that in all the world was none like vnto her. When hee had a little beheld her, by a ſecret commaundement of loue, hee drewe him vnto her, wéening for to haue comforted her. Anon, as the right deſolate gentlewoman ſaw Hercules approching vnto her, ſhe trembled for dread, and fled vnto her chamber, the ladies and the gentlewomen followed her: and among them ſo did Hercules. What ſhall I ſay? hee entered into the chamber where ſhe was, and ſate downe by her. She thought to haue riſen for to haue gone out of the way, but he held her by her clothes and ſaid vnto her: Lady, ye may not flie my companie. Yole ſpake then and ſaid: O miſerable tyraunt, what ſéekeſt thou me nowe for to trouble mee more? Thou haſt ſlaine my father, let that ſuffice thee. Madame (anſwered Hercules) if the king Pricus be dead, it is reaſon that he be not much bewailed nor wept: for he thinking for to auenge the death of the tyraunt Cacus, came not long ſince for to aſſaile me in Italy, ſaying: that I had vnrightfully and without cauſe ſlaine him. In maintaining the contrary, I fought with him vppon this quarrell: the battaile was not ended, nor put to vtterance at that time, for he withdrew himſelfe with his people, and came into this citie. and I haue purſued him haſtily, albeit I coulde not ouertake him. When I ſaw that, I laide my ſiege about this citie: he would not come to fight the battaile during my ſiege, wherefore I haue this day willed to haue an end. Fortune hath béen on my ſide, and hath put you in my power. Certes, it muſt néedes be, that without remedie ye be my lady and my loue: for in ſéeing your ſingular beauty, loue hath conſtrained me to be yours. Then I pray you as affectuouſly as I may or can, that yee ceaſe your ſorrow, and that ye receiue mee as your friend and loue. The more ye weep the leſſe ye get and winne, continual teares or wéepinges, nor long laſting ſighes may neuer raiſe your father againe.

The faire Yole with theſe wordes was ſore oppreſſed with hote & contrary imaginations, that her heart failed her. It was a piteous thing to beholde howe her friend Hercules would haue taken her vp and ſuſteined her betwéene his armes. But a wiſe lady that had alway gouerned her, came to him and ſaid to him kneeling on her knees: Sir, I pray you in the name of all the Gods, that ye will ceaſe to ſpeake to this poore damſell for this time. She hath this day loſt her father, it muſt needs bée that nature acquite her. Ye may do with her your owne pleaſure, if ye let her a little abide in her melancholie: all ſhall be well if it pleaſe the Gods, as well for you as for her. At the requeſt of the Lady, Hercules was content to let her go for that time: hee recommended Yole vnto the Gods, and went vnto Theſeus for to paſſe his time with him: but to the end that Yole ſhoulde not go away nor eſcape, he ordained twelue Gréekes to kéepe her, and commaunded vpon pains of death, that they ſhould ſuffer no woman to iſſue out of the chamber, without witting whither ſhe went. In this night Hercules did cauſe the dead bodies to be had out of the pallace, and the place to be made cleane. And alſo he ordeined that the body of the king Pricus ſhould be put in the ſepulture. When theſe things were accōpliſhed, Hercules & Theſeus with their men of armes, made good chéere with ſuch as they found there: and Yole was neuer out of ye remembrance of Hercules. Yole certainely at this time was ſo diſcomforted, that it cannot be recounted. The ladie that had her in gouernance, trauelled right ſore for to comfort and chéere her. Then when Hercules had left her in the chamber, as ſayd is, ſhe had many words to her: and among all other ſhe ſayd to her: My daughter, you wéepe too much. Ha madame (ſayd Yole) how may I leſſe do? when ſhall I haue cauſe to wéepe and to waile if I haue not nowe? My father is dead: I haue loſt him that moſt loued me of all the world. I may looſe no more, ne no greater thing. Ought not then my heart to be angry and ſorrowfull? My daughter (ſayd the lady) I know well that ye haue the moſt apparant occaſion of ſorrowe that any woman may haue: but ſince it muſt néeds be that you paſſe by this infortune, what profite you your grieuous wéepings? There may nothing procéed of them but augmentation of melancoly, and hurting and appairing of your praiſed beautie. Ye be now fallen into the hand of this prince. This is a man worthy and noble aboue all other, he loueth you: ye ought to thanke the gods, and to giue them praiſe for this grace. For this is to you a good fortune, and an hap in your miſhap. If ye will be ruled by me, y • ſhall take all this in good part. Better it is to ſuffer one euil then two. He thinketh ye ought to conſider your eſtate. And if ye conſider it well, ye ſhall indeuour you to forget it. Madame (ſayd Yole) Alas, and how may that be, that I ſhould haue loue or affinitie or familiaritie with him that hath done to mee ſo much harme. He hath not taken onely from me a knight, an vncle, nor a couſin: but mine onely proper father. Let none ſpeake to me thereof. Hee is, and ſhall be my mortall enemy, as long as I liue: and as long as he ſhal liue, he ſhall haue no more of me, for prayer, promiſe, nor for menace.

My daughter (ſayd the lady) make not your ſelfe bond, whereas you be free: the effects and déeds of loue be ſubtill and ſudden. Loue is alway in his ſecret throne, that can doe none other thing, but humiliate, and méeken the hard hearted, and bow the ſtrong. So hard nor ſo ſtrong a heart is not amongſt the humaine creatures, but that it is right ſoone humbled and made méeke when that it is his pleaſure. There is no tower ſo high, but it may be beaten downe by ſubtill mining. Neither is no winde ſo great, nor ſo rigorous, but it may be tempered. There is no night ſo darke, but that it is ſurmounted with the day. Ye hate Hercules now, but if you haue a while kept companie with him, and haue had communication with him, peraduenture you will loue him better then euer you loued your father, your mother, or any other of your linage. And that I may proue by my ſelfe: for I had my huſband in ſo great hate firſt, ere we loued together, that I would faine haue ſéene him die a ſhamefull death. Shortly after, when we had begun to be acquainted one with another, I loued him ſo ſtedfaſtly, that if he had not beene with me day and night, I had thought I ſhould haue died for ſorrow and griefe. My daughter, ſuch be the chances of loue, that often times I ſay, after great hate commeth great loue. The glory of Hercules is ſo cléere, that your heart ought to be delighted therewith: the conqueſt that he hath made in this citie, ſhall be for you a ſingular preparation to all good. Would you attaine to a more greater weale, then for to be fellow or loue of him that is the ſubduer of kings, the moſt beſt wel-faring man, and the moſt triumphant in armes? for to him is nothing vnpoſſible: hee hath conquered the moſt part of the vniuerſall world. O my daughter, reioyce you in fortune: ſhut not the doore to proſperitie that commeth to you: it is to be beléeued, that the deſolation of this citie, hath bene deuiſed and ordeined by the parlement of the gods, in fauor of you, that are the paragon, and none like vnto you, of all the daughters of the kings, for to giue you in marriage vnto this man.

By theſe wordes the faire Yole had her ſtomacke ſurpriſed with ſundry imaginations. She roſe then vp from that part, and entred into her guardrobe, whereas was the preſentation of the goddeſſe Diana. When ſhe was come thither, ſhe knéeled downe in great humilitie before the image, and in abounding of ſighes, and weeping as ſore as ſhee had done any time of the day before, ſhee ſayd: Goddeſſe of virgines, what ſhall thy right ſimple ſeruant and handmayden doe? Alas, lighten mine hope, beholde mine affection, weigh my miſhappe. Send thine eyes into the ſecret of mine heart, and ſée the ſorrow that I beare, and in the fauour of virgines kéepe my bodie, and preſerue me frō the hand of him that would that I ſhould be his wife. Since that he had cauſed in me the roote of mortall hate, which is not poſſible to be rooted out, as nature iudgeth in mee (for it is not poſſible that I may loue mine enemie) I am therefore perſwaded, and it is trueth, that the hate that I haue againſt this tyrant Hercules, ſhalbe euer abiding.

In theſe prayers and lamentations Yole abode vntill the dead of the night, curſing Hercules, ſaying that ſhe had rather die then to loue or like him. Thus diſdaining the loue of Hercules, without meate or drinke ſhe paſſed the whole night. The day next following, Hercules returned vnto her, and on a newe prayed her, that ſhe would be his wife: ſaying, without reſpite, that ſhe • muſt needes agree thereto. She was right ſore diſpleaſant of this requeſt, and excuſed herſelf in many faſhions that were too long to rehearſe at this time. But at the end of the praiers and requeſtes of Hercules, Loue inſpired in ſuch wiſe the gentlewoman, that ſhe vnderſtoode well that Hercules was of the roote of noble father and mother: wherefore ſhee accorded to doe his pleaſure. What ſhal I more ſay? Yole companied then with Hercules as his wife, and they lay togither, and they grewe acquainted each with other. Loue then inrooted in their heartes, ſo that their two willes were locked and put in one will. Hercules forgot Deianira, and Yole forgat the death of her father, and was ſo much enamoured on Hercules, that ſhe might reſt in no place, but that ſhe muſt be alway with him. O maruellous thing, the rancour and the hate that Yole had yeſterday vnto Hercules, is nowe ſodainly turned into loue infallible. For to ſpeede the matter: during yet the firſt dayes of the loue of Hercules and Yole, at the praier of Yole, Hercules gaue her ſiſters in marriage to certaine knightes of the Greekes, and left them there to gouerne the countrey and the realme of Calidonie. After he departed from thence, and brought his oxen and his kine with him, and ſent againe the king Euander into his dominion, thanking him of his company, and of the honour that he had done to him.

Euander woulde gladly haue accompanied Hercules into Greece: But Hercules would in no wiſe yt he ſhould haue the trauaile. At laſt then Euander (with great thankings of Hercules and of his armie) departed: and Hercules with his armie went vnto the ſea, and hee forgat not behinde him the faireſt Yole, but hee loued her ſoueraignly. All day he was with her, and ſhee pleaſed him as much as ſhee might, doubting more to looſe his loue thē ſhe was ſory for the death of her father. Then as they thus went by the ſea, maintaining to their power the amorous life, Hercules encountered on a day, nigh by an hauen and a good citie, a gally of marchants. Hercules made the galley to tarry, and after called the maiſter, and aſked of him what countrey he was, and from whence he came? Certes ſir (anſwered the maiſter of the galley) I departed late from the porte of Thrace that is hereby: I ſee well that ye be a ſtranger, and that yee know not the perill that ye be in: wherefore I haue pitie of you and of your company, and doe aduertiſe you, and wiſh you, that at the next hauen ye ſhal finde, in no wiſe yee tary there, for nothing that may befall you: for al ſo truely as yée bée héere, if ye go thither, yee ſhall take harme: for there is a king, a tyrant the moſt cruell that is in all the world, named Diomedes, that holdeth vnder him tenne thouſand théeues, and hee maketh warre againſt all them that hée may find, and hath a cuſtome that he putteth men to ranſome ſuch as it pleaſeth him: and if they that hee putteth to ſuch miſery, pay their raunſome, hee letteth them go quiet, and with that money and ſubſtance, he nouriſheth his théeues, and his horſes. And if they cannot furniſhe their raunſome, He himſelf ſmiteth them to morſels, and giueth them to his horſes for to eate and deuoure. But there is one thing good for you, for this morning he is gone to the chaſe, for to hunt in a forreſt, which is a foure mile from Thrace, and with him there be an hundred of the ſtrongeſt theeues that he hath. And this knowe I of a trueth, for I haue ſeene them depart not paſſing three houres ago, &c.

CHAP. XXIX. ¶How Hercules fought againſt Diomedes, in the foreſt of Thrace: and how he made his horſe to eate him.

HErcules hearing theſe wordes that the maiſter of the galley ſaid to him, and rehearſing the life of Diomedes, was paſſing ioyous in his heart, more then hee had béen ſince the death of the théef Cacus. He had in him that valor, that where he might know a monſter or tyrant to be, or any men moleſting the weale, thither hee went, and ſuch tyrants hee deſtroyed: and to the ende that men ſhould not ſay, that he did ſuch workes for couetiſe, hee would neuer hold, nor retain to his proper vſe nothing of their goodes, but all that hee conquered in ſuch wiſe hee geue it vnto noble men, and praiſed nor ſought nothing but vertue. He would not make his ſeignorie to grow nor be inlarged, and take to himſelfe realme vppon realme. He was content with that, that nature had giuen him. And alway he woulde labour for the commonweale. O noble heart? O right well diſpoſed courage? O moſt vertuous painym, there was none like to him of all them that were afore him, nor after him. For to holde on and go forward with my matter: when the maiſter had aduertiſed him, as afore is ſaid, that the tyrant Diomedes was gone on hunting into the forreſt, with his hundred théeues, he enquired ſo much that the maiſter ſhewed him the ſituation of the foreſt, & by what way and maner hée might ſooneſt come thither. After this, he gaue leaue to the maiſter to go his way. That done, he called his mariners, and made them to ſéeke the place. After, hee aſſembled the Gréekes, and told them, that he would that they ſhould abide him there, and that he himſelfe without delay would go into the forreſt, that the maiſter had ſhewed him, to ſéeke Diomedes: ſaying, that he would neuer returne into Greece vntill the time that hee had deliuered the countrey of this tyrant. Yole began then to wéepe, when ſhe heard the enterpriſe of Hercules, & praied him, tenderly wéeping, that hee would leaue and depart from the hazard of ſo great perill. Hercules tooke no regard nor héed to her praiers. He deliuered to Phylotes his bowe & his club, and entered into a little galley finely made and light. Which he guided by the helpe of Phylotes, right nigh the place where hee would be: and tooke land two bow ſhotte off, from the forreſt, and ſo in ſetting foot on land, he heard the cry and noiſe of the hunting, and hadde thereof great ioy, and ſaid that he was well and where he would be. He tooke then his club, and left his bowe with Phylotes. After he entered into the forreſt, and had not far ranged in the forreſt, when hee found Dyomedes and his hundred theeues. Diomedes was the firſt that from far eſpied Hercules, and knew that he was a ſtranger▪ & called to him and ſaid. Giant, what is it that thou ſeekeſt in this forreſt? Hercules anſwered, what art thou? Diomedes ſaide, I am the king of Thrace: thou art entered into my Dominion without my leaue: it diſpleaſeth me, and thou muſt be my priſoner, wherefore yeeld thée to mée. Hercules ſaid then: king, ſince thou art Diomedes the king of Thrace, thou art vndoubtedly the tyrant that I ſéeke. And therefore I am not of purpoſe to yeeld mée without ſtroke ſmiting, and eſpecially to an euill théefe. Know thou, that I will defend me with this club, with which I haue béen accuſtomed to deſtroy monſters, and am in hope this day, to make thy horſes eate and deuour thy body, like as thou haſt taught and vſed them to eate thy priſoners.

When Diomedes heard the anſwere of Hercules, hee tooke a great axe, that one of his theeues bare after him, and he lifted it vp, threatning Hercules vnto the death, and diſcharged ſo hard, that if Hercules had not turned the ſtroke with his club, he had béen in great perill. Diomedes was of the greatneſſe and ſtature of Hercules, and had aboundance of ſtrength and puiſſance. When Hercules had receiued the ſtroke, he lifted vp his club, & failed not to ſmite Diomedes, for he gaue him ſuch a ſtroke vpon the ſtomacke, and ſo heauy that hee turned him vpſide down from his horſe, and laid him all aſtonied in the field. Then his hundred theeues beſtirred them, and aſſailed Hercules on all ſides. Some of them there were yt recouered Diomedes, & ſet him on his horſe, ye other ſhot at Hercules: ſome brake their ſwordes on him. All this impaired nothing the armes of Hercules. His halberd and his helme were of fine ſtéele forged & tempered hard. He ſtood there among them like a mountaine. When hée had ſuffered the firſt ſkirmiſhe and aſſault of the théeues, for to ſhew to them with whom they fought, he ſet vppon them, and ſmote down right on all ſides with ſuch valor, that ſodainly he made the péeces of them flie into the wood, and ſmote them down from their horſes. Diomedes was at that time riſen, and with great furie and diſcontentedneſſe, with many of his complices came vnto the reſkewe of his théeues, whom Hercules vſed as he would. And whiles that ſome aſſailed him before, he came behind, and ſmote him with his axe vpon his helme, the ſtroke wherof was ſo great that the fire ſprang out. Diomedes had well thought to haue murdered Hercules: yet Hercules mooued not for the ſtroke, but a little bowed his head. After this then he lift vp his clubbe, and ſmote among the theeues, and maugre them all, in leſſe then an houre he had ſo belaboured the yron about their backs, that of the hundred hee ſlew ſixty, and the other hee al to bruſed and fruſhed and put to flight with Diomedes. But Hercules running more ſwiftly then an horſe, among all other purſued Diomedes ſo nigh, that hee raught him by the legge, and pulled him downe from his horſe, and caſt him downe againſt a tree vnto the earth. After hee tooke him by the body, and by maine force, bare him vnto the place where the battaile had béen. There he diſhelmed him and vnarmed him with little reſiſtance. For Diomedes was then all to bruiſed, and might not helpe himſelfe, and when he hadde him thus at his will, hee bound him by the feete and by the handes. After this hee aſſembled togither twentie horſes of the théeues, that ran diſperſed in the wood, and came to Diomedes, and ſaide to him. O thou curſed enemy, that haſt emploied all thy time in tyrannie, and diddeſt neuer one good déed, but all thy daies haſt liued in multiplying of ſinnes and vices, and haſt trobled the people by thefts & praies irreparable, and that haſt nouriſhed thy horſes with mans fleſh, & by this crueltie hadſt ſuppoſed to haue made me to die: Certes I will doe iuſtice vpon thée, and will doe to thine euill perſon, like as thou wouldeſt haue done to mine. Then Hercules laid the tyrant in the middeſt of the horſes, which had great hunger, and they anon deuoured him, for they loued mans fleſh. And thus when Hercules had put the tyrant to death, hee tooke his armes, in ſigne of victory, and returned vnto Phylotes that abode him.

Philotes hadde great ioy, when hee ſawe Hercules returne, he enquired of him how he had done, and howe hee had borne him. And Hercules hid nor concealed nothing from him. What ſhall I ſay? with great ioy and gladneſſe they returned vnto the Greekes, and did cauſe to diſancre their ſhippes, and ſailed for to arriue at the port or hauen of Thrace. Then would Hercules make to bee known, & publiſhed in Thrace ye death of king Diomedes. Whereat was a great vproare. This notwithſtanding, Hercules tooke to Philotes the armes of Diomedes, and ſent him into the citie for to ſummon them that gouerned it, and for to yeeld it into his handes. Philotes went into the pallace of Thrace, and made to bee aſſembled them that then were principall in the Citie. When they were aſſembled, Phylotes did then open to them his charge and meſſage, and ſummoned the Thraciens, that they ſhoulde deliuer their citie into the handes of Hercules: Saying that Hercules was he that had put to death Diomedes for his euill liuing, and for the loue of the common weale: and that the citie could do no better but to receiue him at his comming, for hée woulde not pill it, but hee would only bring it to good pollicie. When he had done this ſummons, to the end that they ſhould beleeue him, he diſcouered and ſhewed vnto them the armes of Diomedes.

When the Thraciens heard Phylotes, and ſawe the armes of Diomedes, ſome of the complices and companions of Diomedes and theeues, were full of great rage, and would haue taken the armes from Phylotes. The other that were wiſe and notable men, & that many yeres had deſired the end of their king (ſeeing his armes) knew aſſuredly that Diomedes was dead, and full of ioy aunſwered to Philotes. Foraſmuch as Hercules was a king of great renowne and wiſedome, and that he had done a worke of great merite in the death of Diomedes they would receiue him with good hart into the citie. Without long diſcourſes, the Thraciens went vnto the gate, and opened it. Phylotes returned then vnto Hercules and tolde vnto him theſe tidinges. Hercules and the Gréekes went out of their Gallies, and entered into Thrace in ſpace of time. The Thraciens brought them vnto the pallace where were yet many theeues. Hercules put all the theeues to death, not in the ſame night, but during the ſpace of ten daies that he ſoiourned there. He ſet the citie in good nature of pollicie. He deliuered it from the euill théeues, hee made iudges by election, at the pleaſure of the people. And then when hee hadde done all theſe thinges, hee departed from Thrace with great thanks, as well of the old as of the yong. Hée mounted vppon the Sea, and after by ſucceſſion of time without any aduenture to ſpeake of, he did ſo much that he came vnto his realme of Lycie, into his pallace, where he was receiued with great ioy of the inhabitantes, and alſo of the neighbours. And there he abode with the faire Yole, whom he loued aboue all temporall goodes.