The castell of loue, translated out of Spa­nishe in to Englyshe, by Iohan Bowrchier knyght, lorde Ber­nis, at the instaunce of the lady Elizabeth Carew, late wyfe to syr Nicholas Carew knyght.

The whiche boke treateth of the loue betwene Leriano and Laureola doughter to the kynge of Masedonia.

¶Cum priuilegio ad impri­mendum solum.

¶The Prologe.

FOr the affeccyant desyre and obligacyon that I ame bownde in, towar­des your ryghte vertu­ous and good lady: as well for the goodnes that it hath pleased you to shewe me, as for the nyrenesse of consanguinite, hathe pleased me to accomplyshe your desyre, as in translatynge this present boke. And though my so doynge, can not be correspondente any thynge to recom­pence your goodnes. yet not beynge ignorante of your wyll and desyre, the whiche in this cause I take for the hole effecte: thynkynge thereby to do you some smale rememoracyon. And also bycause the matter is very pleasante for yonge ladyes and gentle women. Therfore I haue enterprysed to translate the same out of Spanyshe in to Englysh [...], [Page] not adorned with so fre [...]she eloquence, that it shulde meryte to be presented to your goodnesse. For or I fyrste entred in to this rude laboure I was brought into greate doubtfulnesse, and founde my selfe in dyuers ymagynacyons. For seynge the quycke intellygence of your spyrit, I feared: and agayne the remembraunce of your vertue and prudence, gaue me audacyte. In the one I found feare, and in the other suertie and har­dynesse. Fynally I dyd chose the moste vnuaylable, for myne owne shame, and most vtilitie in any reprehencion or re­buke for the moche boldenesse, in that I haue not taken suche respyte as I oughte to haue done. yet in consydera­cyon of your gentlenesse, myne affeccyō is alwayes in truste to skape blameles. I haue taken this entrepryce on me, more be desyre to haue blame thereby, then to atteyne by my prayse or laude. wherfore ryghte vertuous lady, maye [Page] it please you of your goodnes to accept this lytle presente treatyse, and to re­ceyue this my good wyll, or ye con­dempne the faulte. And also to haue the more affeccyon to the presenter, then to the valewer of the thynge presented: requyrynge you to holde and repute me alwayes as one of the nom­ber of them, that alwayes shal be redy to do you pleasure. And for the surplus, I desyre the creatour of the fyrst cause long to indure and to en­crease your happy prosperite. Amen.

¶The ende of the prologe.

¶The Auctor.

AFter y e warres done and finyshyd in my countrey, beynge in my poore mansion, in a mornyng whan the sonne illuminyd the earthe, in a sha­dowyde darke valey, in the moun­tayne called Serua de Marenꝰ, in the coūtrey of Masedonia: as I walkyd in a strayte way shadowyd w t fayer trees Sodenly I mette with a knight fyers and furious, whose presence was fer­full to regarde. Coueryde all in here lyke a sauage creature. In his lyfte hande he bare a bryght schilde of stele, & in his ryght hand a shynynge ymage entaillid in a clere stone, of such plesure & bewtle, that y e clerenes troublyd the syghte of myne eyen, out of the whiche there issuyde dyuers Rayes of fier en­bransing & enflaming y e body of a man. The which the sayd knight forceably [Page] ledde behynd hym, wh [...]with dolorous playntes and sorowfull passions sayde: By reason of my hope, I suffre all this, and wheir he aprochyd, and that I was nere hym, he sayd with mortall anguysh frende, for the loue of god I pray the folow me and ayde me in this my great be [...]ynes, and I as then had more cause of feare, then reason to aunswere, but I set myne eyen on this strange vision, iudgyng in my hart dyuerce considera­cions [...] as to leue my way, me thought it symplenes, and to accomplysh the desire of the pacient, I thought it dangerous to folow hym was perell, and to leue hym in that turbacion was pite, so that I wiste not whiche was beste to chose, how be it after that feare had left myne alteracion in some ease, and that my spirites began to respyre, then I cōsyderyd well that I was more bounde to the vertue, then to the lyfe. And then determy­nyde for the dought that I was in, to folow y e way of hym who desyred myne [Page] ayede, and I hastyde me to go after in suche sorte that shortely I ouertoke them. Do we went all .iii. a longe space, with no lesse anoyance, then to be soly­tary alone fro pleasur or company, and though the desyre of the dolorous, was cause of my folowynge, yet to speke to hym that ledde the pacient, I faylyde audacyte, and to desire hym, me thought nothynge auayleable, nor I hadde not deseruyd it, though in this case I fayled counsayll, yet after I had reuoluyde my thoughtes in the remembrance of many thynges, I thought it beste to put to hym some maner of purpose, to thentent that accordyng to his aunswere I shuld determyne further. And with this dely­beracion I requyrede hym in the moste curtes wyse that to me was possible, to shew me what he was: who aunswered me, & sayd: Frende, certaynly accordyng to my naturall condycion, I oughte to gyue the none aunswere: bycause myne offyce is rather to assure euyll, then to [Page] aunswere well: how be it in that I haue bene alwayes norished among men of good nourture: I shall vse to the of the gentylnes, that I haue lernyd, a [...]d not of the fercenes of my nature. Thou shalt vnderstand sence thou wylt know it, that I ame principall officer in the house of the god of loue: and I ame namyd by my ryght name, desire. And with the force of this chylde / I resyst & defende all hoopes: And with the beau­tie of this Image I cause y e affections wher w t I broyle and enflame the lyues as thou maist se by this prisoner whom I lede in to the prisone of loue: who all onely by dethe hopeth his delyuerance. Whan this tormentour hadde shewed me all these thynges, we mountyd vp a sharpe & an hygh mountayne, that fur­ther to trauaylle, my for [...]e fayled, and with greate payne, we aryuyd to the heyght. In receyuynge this aunswer, then I studyed, how to thanke hym of the grace that he hadde shewed me: and [Page] therw t sodenly he vanyshed fro my pre­sence. This was in the begynnynge of the night, wherfore I coulde not kepe my waye, nor knowe whether I shulde drawe, for the darkenes of the nighte, & the small knowledge that I had of the coūtrey. Howbeit I thought it best not to returne, nor to departe fro the palce, that I was in. Then I began to course [...]yne aduenture, abandonyng my selfe fro all hope, abiding there my p [...]rdiciō. Thus in y e myddes of my tribulacyon, I neuer repentyd of that I had done, for I estemyd better to lese my lyfe, ac­complyshynge vertue: then to saue it, doing the contrary. Thus I was all y e nyght in heuynes and trauelous con­templacion. And when the light of the day discoueryd y e wayes, I sawe before me, on the most highest place of y e mountayne, a tower so hygh, that me semyd it atteynyd to the heuyn. Hit was made by suche artifice, that of the strangnes therof, I began to meruayll, & I ioy­ned [Page] my selfe to the foote therof. The tyme offeryd me more to feare, then to regard or note it, beholding the strange ouerage & newelte of the edefice. The fundaciō wheron it was foundyd, was of a stone clere and stronge of nature, wherupō was reysed .iiii. great pillers of violet marble, so fayre, and so hygh, beyonde the comon forme, that it was meruayll how they were systeynyd. A­boue the whiche was fabricate a tower iii. square, the most strongest that could be deuised: on euery square therof, on y e height there stode an humayn Image, made of metall, paynted w t theyr owne colours, one tawny, a nother blacke, & the thirde gray, eche of them holding a chayne in theyr handes, made of great force. And on the heyght of the tower, ther was a pynacle full of great clere­nes & light, comyng fro a raye of light issuyng out of the tower. I harde .ii. watches who neuer seaced, but still wa­kyd. Of these thynges greatly I mer­nayled, [Page] & could not tell what to thynke or to say. Thus beyng in great dought and confusion [...] I sawe ioynynge to the marbell a stayre mountyng to the gate of the tower, wherof the entre was so darke, that to mount vp, semyd impossible: how be it, I deliberyd, wyllynge rather to go to my perdicyon in moun­tyng, then to saue my self with tarieng. Thus takyng harte, I began to moūte and when I was vp .iii. steppes, I found a dore of Iron, the which satisfi­ed me rather to tast w t my handes, then to attayne therto by syghte, by reason of y darknes that I was in, And when I came to the gate, I founde ther a porter, of whome I demaundyd licens to entre. He aunswered, how he was con­tent, so that fyrst I shuld leue behynde me myne armure. I grauntyd hym to leue suche as I bare customably vpon me. Then he sayd: My ffrend, it ape­rith well, that of the vsage & custome of this house thou knowest but lytle [...] The [Page] armoure that I demaunde, and those that it behoueth the to leue, are suche as the harte is wonte to be defendyd withall, fro heuynes & sorowe, as are: hope, rest, & contentacion: for to haue those condicions, ther may none ioy of the demaunde that thou desyrest. And when I knew his entension, withoute any further aduyse, I aunswered & ass [...] ryd hym, that I was come thyther with out any of those armours. Thē he graū tyd the openyng of the gate, & so with greate trauaill and sore trouble, I ary­uyd to the height of the tower, where I found a nother porter, who demaundyd of me as y e other dyd. And when I had made hym lyke aunswere, he gaue me place to entre. Then I went all the length of the tower, and enteryd in to a halle, where in y e myddes therof stode a chayre brennynge full of fyre: in the whiche satte he who made to me the re­quest, and causer of my perdicion. And myne eyen were so chargyd w t regar­ding [Page] of this ouerage, & my tonge was so oppressed, that I could demaund no questiō of all these meruails. And as I regardyd them, I sawe the .iii. chaynes that the Images held on the height on y tower, were fast tyed about this poore captyue prysoner, who alwayes brent, and neuer consumyd. Then I saw two sorowful women, theyr faces ful of we­pynges and dolours. They ordeyned to sette on his hed with greate crueltie [...] a crowne full of sharpe poyntes of stea­le, without pyte, persyng his hed to the brayne. Also ther was a blacke morion, vestured in yelowe, who came often ty­mes w t a great fawchon, to strike hym, and euer I saw how the pacient recey­ued the strokes with a shelde, subtilly i [...]suyng out of his hedde: the which co­uered hym to the feete. I saw other .iii. seruaūtes ryght diligent, who brought hym meate on a blacke cloth, and with great fury gaue him mete of bitter tast. And on the one syde of the table I sawe [Page] an olde man syt in a chaire lenynge his hedde in one of his handes, lyke a man solitary in thought & pensyfenes. All these thynges I could scant se for the darkenes of the towre: but by reason of a clere shynynge lyght, that issuyd out of the prisoners harte, which gaue clere lyghte ouer all. And when this priso­ner saw me so astonyd, to se thinges of suche mystery: And that he saw tyme to pay me w t his wordes, though he were not in my det yet to gyue me some rest, & solacious comforte, with his discrete reasons, medlyd with piteous wepyn­ges, he began to say in this maner.

The prisoner.

SOme parte of my harte I shall discouer, as I oughte to do, for the sorowe that I haue of the, ac­cordyng to thy deserte, how be it, thou seist well that in my trybulaciō I haue no powre, to feale any other mans euil, myne owne is so great, I pray the take for satisfactiō, not that I do, but that I [Page] desire, of thy comyng hyther I ame the cause, I ame he whome thou sawest led as a prisoner, bycause of the tribulaciō that thou arte in, thou knowest me not. Torne agayne to thy spirites and take rest, and quyet iudgement, to thentent thou mayst be ententyue to that I wyll say. Thy comyng was to remedy me, my wordes shall be to aduertyse y , who I ame. I shall shew the, and of the my­steryes that thou hast seene, I shall in­fourme the. The cause of my prison, I wold thou knewdest, and I requyre the to delyuer me if it be in thy puissaunce, knowe for certayne, I ame Lereano sonne to duke Guerro, whome god per­don, & of the duches Colerea, my byrthe was in this realme, where thou arte present, named Macedonia, my fortune ordeynyd that I became amorous of Laureola doughter to kynge Guallo, who at this present tyme reygneth, whō I shuld rather haue fledde fro, then to haue fallen in to the trace of loue, and [Page] specially in so hygh a place, but as the fyrst mouynge, maye not excuse me in stede of forsakynge therof, by reason I haue confermyd it by good wyl. Also loue hath vanquyshed me, & brought me in to this howse, namyd the Castell of loue, who neuer perdonyth, for he seing displayed the vailes of my desyre, hathe broughte me in to y e state that thou seist me in, and to the entent, thou shuldest the better note, and marke the fundaci­on of this, and of al that thou hast sene, thou shalt know that the stone, wheron the pryson is foundyd, is my fayth, who determineth vtterly to suffre the dolour of this payne, for the welth of his euill. The great pyllers that are assysted to this stone, ary my vnderstandynge, my reason, my memory, & my wyll, whom amours commaundyd to apere before his presence, or he wolde gyue any sen­tence apon me. And the better to execute on me his true iustyce, demaundyd of eche of them, yf they consentyd that I [Page] shuld be taken prisoner, bicause if any of them wolde not haue consentyd, he wolde haue asoyled me fro payne and blame, to the whiche demaunde all .iiii. aunswerd in this maner. First vnderstā dynge said: I consent to the euill of the payne, for the welth of the cause, wher­fore my wyll is, that he be taken. Then sayd Reason: & I consent not allonely that he be in prison, out I ordeyne that he there abyde, and dye: for it were bet­ter for hym the happy deth, then to lyue in dispayre cōsidering for whom he shal suffre it. Then sayd Memory, syn that vnderstanding & reason, cōsentyth that without deth he can not be deliuered, I then pinyse, he shall neuer forget it, but alwayes haue it in his remembraunce. Then sayd wyll: seyng it is thus I will then be the key of his prisone, and determyne alwayes to be persecuter, of wyll and desyre. This seing the god of loue who ought to haue sauid m [...]e, cōdemned me, & gaue this cruell sentence agaynst [Page] me. As for y e .iii. images standing on y e walles of y e towre eche of them of a contrary colour, as tawny, blacke, & gray, The one is heuynes, the other anguish, and the thirde trauaill. The cheynes in theyr handes are their strengthes, wher with they holde falte tyed the harte in such wyse that it can recouer none ease nor rest. The great clerenes & shynyng, that the Egle hath in his bek & wynges as thou hast sene in the hyghest parte of the towre, whiche is myne inwardes thoughtes, whiche hath so great cleve­nes in it selfe, that it suffiseth to enlu­myne y e darknes of this clowdy prison, and the force therof is so great that the strength of the thick walles, can not le [...] it, but that it wyll attaigne to the Egl [...] in suche wyse, y t they wyll go together in cōpany, bycause they are the thinges that mountyth and ascendyth hyghest, for the which cause my pryson is in the hyghest place of the lande. The .ii. wat­ches that thou he [...]est, so dilygently watchyng [Page] be Mishap, & Hate. They be of that deuise y t no hope nor remedy shuld entre into me. y e darke stayres to mount on, is anguysh, wheron I mountyd, as thou seyst. The fyrst porter was desyre, who to all heuynes openyth the gate. Therfore he sayd to the y t thou shuldest leue al thyne armure of pleasoure. The other porter was tormēt, who brought me hyther, who is of the same cōdicyō. The chayre of fier wherin thou seist me syt, is my iuste affection, whose flames alwayes brynneth in myne entrayles. The .ii. women y t gaue me the crown of martyrdom are called payne & passyon, who satisfyeth my fayth with this pre­sent reward. The olde man y t thou seyst syt in so great study, representeth great thought & pensyfenes w t greuous care & soli [...]itude. The which (ioyned with y e other euyls) manisheth my poore lyfe. The blacke more ve [...]uryd in yelowe, who traueyleth to take awaye my lyfe, is named dispayre, & the sheld that issu­eth [Page] out of my hed defending me fro his strokes, is my wytte, who (seynge y e dis­payre wold slee me) cōmandeth me to defende my lyfe, cōsyderyng the deserte of Laureola, he cōmaundeth me to desyre long life w t sufferance, rather then with deth to make an ende. The black boord for me to eate on, is ferme stedfastnesse wheron I eate. Thynke & slepe, theron are the heuy meates, of myne contepla­tiōs. The .iii. diligēt seruātes y t serueth me, are named, euyl, payne and dolour. One bereth the meat of doubtfulnesse, wherof I eate. a nother bereth dispayre wherin y e meat is brought, & another bereth y e cup of tribulatiō, wherin I drink drawing water fro y e hart to the eyen, & from y eien to the mouth. Now iudge thy self, if I be wel serued, if I haue nede of remedy y u seyst. I requyre the syn y u arte here aryued that thou wylt serche for me some remedy, & sorow myne euyll, I desyre of the none other good, but that Laureola may be aduertysed [...] & knowe [Page] by the state how thou seyst me, and per­aduenture thou wylt excuse the bycause thou seyst me fayle power to make the a recompence. I requyre the let it not be vndone for that cause, for more vertue it is to remedy them that be in tribula­tion, then to susteyne them that be in prosperite: let thy workes be suche, that thou repente not thy selfe, for lacke of doynge it, when thou myghteste haue done it.

¶The aunswer of the auctour to Laureola.

THy wordes shewe well, that loue hath taken and occupieth thy ly­bertie, but not thy vertue, the whi­che I proue by that I se in the, to be more redyer to dye, then to speke: how be it, thou hast forcyd thy wyll, to proue the werynes of my lyfe, iudgynge what for trauels passyd, & for my solycitude present, that I haue but small hope to lyue, & without doubt, so it is, for thou causest my perdicion, desyrynge dough­tes [Page] remedy, and yet thou doest remedy the same, as a perfight iudge. And su­rely. I haue hadde no lesse pleasour to heare the, then I haue had sorowe to se the. For by thy persone is well sene thy payne, & by thy reasons knowen is thy bountie, in gyuynge socour and ayde to the nedy [...]lyke as thou hast do [...]e now to me. For I consyderynge the strange mysteries of this thy pryson, I doubted of my saluacyon, beleuynge all had ben but illusions done by arte diabolycke, rather then by any cōdycyon amorous. For this thou hast shewed me I thanke the, and nowe I knowe what thou arte, I thynke well enployed the tra­uayll that I haue enduryd for thy sake, the knowledge of the moralite of these figures, hath ryght well pleased me, for though I well regardyd them yet for lacke of knowledge my harte was in captyuyte and prisone, and now I ame out of doubt & feare. And where as thou hast cōmaundyd me, that I shuld gyue [Page] knowlege to Laureola in what cas [...] I haue sene y , the which to do I fynd gret perel for a man of a strange naciō, what maner & forme shuld he fynde to execute such a message, I haue not alonely this doubt but dyuerce other: The rudenes & dulnes of my wytte, the dyfference of oure speche & tonge, the noblenes of Laureola, and the grauite of this be synes, so that in this case I fynde but small remedy, but alonely my good will, whiche vanquyssith all other in­conuenientes and daungers for to thy seruice I offre my selfe as moche as though I hadde bene thyne owne seruant all the dayes of my lyffe. And I promyse the y t with good hart I shal accōplish to my power al thy cōmandemē tes. I pray to god, I may be as happy as I ame desyrous to serue the so that thy deliuerance may bere witnes of my true dilygence so great affeccion I bere to the, & so moche I ame bound to loue thy noblenes that if I myght remedy [Page] thy trybulacions I shuld repute my selfe well rewardyd for all my trauyls, so that in the meane tyme thou wylt bere al maner of assautes pacyently in trustyng vpon me that when I returne and bryng y any remedy y t thou mayste take suche corage in thy lyfe, that thou mayst feale the sparkels therof.

The Auctor.

WHen I had endyd myne aunsewre to Lereano, then I deptyd fro hym and lernyd the waye to the cytie of Suria where as lay y e kyng of Maze­donia, which was halfe a iourney fro y prisone fro whence I deptyd. Thus I came to the courte, & wente to y e palays to treat, and to se y e maner of the people of that courte, and to regarde the forme and situacion of the palayce, and how I myght resorte, goo, come, or abyde, to entre in to the enterprice, that I had in hand. And this I dyd dyuers dayes, to lerne and to se, what way shulde be best & moste couenable to my purpose, & [Page] the more I studyed the lesse disposycion I found to attayne to that I desyryd & when I had serched al maner of wayes I thought most auayleable to my pur­pose to acquaynte my selfe w t the yong courters and with the principall of y e courte: for generally among them is found good maner and curtesye, and thus I drew so longe to theyr company with in a breue tyme I was estemydde among them as though I had bene one of theyr ppre nacion, and at last I fell in aquayntance among the ladyes, and lytle and lytle I fell in acquayntance with the ladye Laureola, and dyuerce tymes I recountyd to her of the mer­uayls of spayne and of other places, where as I had bene. The whiche she gretly delyghtyd to here. Then I seyng my selfe in maner with her as a seruant I tho [...]ght then I myght shewe her that thyng that I desyryd, and on a day as I saw her aparte fro other ladyes I knelyd downe and sayd as folowith.

The Auctor to Laureola.

IT is lesse goodnes to perdone the great & puyssante persones, when they haue dseruyd trespace then to be reuengyd vpon the symple & small psonages, when they haue done iniury, for y one wyll make amendes by reason of theyr honour and the other are perdonyd by vertue, the whiche is due to be vsyd, amonge greate personages, and most specyally to noble ladyes & gentle women hauing noble hartes according to theyr birth, they ought naturally to haue pyte in theyr condicions. Lady I say thys for peraduenture in shewyng to you myne entent, I shalbe reputyd to bolde, not hauyng respecte to your great magnyficens. In the begynnyng or I was determyned to speake to you, I was in great doubt. But at the ende I thoughte it for the best, that yf ye en­treate me, inhumaynly, to suffre y e payn for my speakyng, rather then to endure in dolour for beynge styll. Lady ye shal [Page] knowe that rydynge on a daye amonge sharpe mountayns, I sawe by the com­mandement of Amours, how Lereano sonne to duke Guerro, was taken & led to prison as a prisoner, who prayed me to ayde hym in his trouble and besynes. By whose occasion I lefte the waye of my reste, and toke the daungerous way of his trauayle: and after that I hadde longe gone with hym, I sawe howe he was put in to a swete prisone as toward his wyll, but it was ryght bytter, as to his lyfe: for there he susteyneth all the euyls and paynes of the world: Dolour turmenteth hym, passyō foloweth hym, dispaire distroieth him, deth manasheth hym, payne executeth hym, thoughtes waketh hym, desyre troubleth hym, he­uynes cōdemneth hym, his fayth wyll not saue hym, & I knewe by hym, that all this ye are the cause. And I iudge by that I sawe hym, his dolour (whiche he kepethe secrete in his mynde) to be more greater, then he hath discouered [Page] to me by wepinges, but by reason of the syghte, y t I se of your presence, I fynde that his torment is not without a iuste cause. And w t sore syghes issuynge fro his harte, he desyred me to gyue you knowledge of his euyl: his request was with payne & dolour, & my obedience, of pure cōpassyon of his payne & torment, though I iudge you cruel [...] yet by y e fre­quētatiō of your gētlenes I se & thinke ye be piteous, & not w tout reason: for by reasou of your excellēt fayrenes & dignite, he beleueth the one, & by your noble cōdicion hopeth on y e other: & his payne wherof ye be causer, yf ye wyll remedy w t pitie accordyng to his deseruinge, ye shalbe thē praised aboue al other womē y t euer were. Remembre nowe, & behold whether it is better to be praysed for gyuynge remedy, orels to be blamyd for sleyng of hym. Cōsyder how moch ye be boūd to hym, y for al his passiō & aduersite, yet he doth serue you, & if ye remedy hym, thē he is y e occasiō to cause you to do [Page] as moch as god maye do, for it is of no lesse esteme, the redemer, then is y e crea­tor: for in takynge fro hym the deth, ye shall do as moche, as god to gyue hym lyfe. I knowe not what excuse ye can make not to remedy hym, without ye beleue that sleynge is a vertue. I desyre of you none other good, but to be sory for his euyll and payne. This desyre shall be to you nothynge greuable: for he had rather endure in hym selfe styll payne and aduersite, then to cause you to feale any payne & displeasour. This my bolde speakynge condemneth me, but the dolour of hym that hathe sente me, assoyleth me agayne, his payne is so great, that none euyll can come to me to be equall to his payne. I requyre your gentlenes, let your aunswer be cō ­fortable to your vertue, and not to the fercenes that ye shew by your regardes And in your so doynge, ye shalbe pray­sed, and I reputyd a good messenger, and the paynefull prisoner Lereano, delyuered [Page] quyte fro all payne [...]

¶The aunswer of Laureola to the auctour [...]

Lykewyse as thy reasons be teme­rous and fearefull to declare, sem­blably they are great and greuous to perdone. yf thou were of Macedonia as thou arte of Spaygne, thy reasons and thy lyfe shuld fynishe together, but thou beynge a straunger shalte not re­ceyue the payne that thou deseruyste. And as for the pytie that thou thynkest to be in me, I wolde thou knewest, that in suche lyke cases, doubtefull iustice & crueltie is as ryue and dewe, as is cle­mence or pitie, the whiche yf. I shulde execute vpon the, shulde be cause of .ii. welthes. The one, therby al other shuld take ensample of feare. And the other, all noble women shulde be estemed and reputed accordynge to theyr demerites. How be it, if thy fole hardynes, requyre punycion, yet my mekenes and benig­nite consenteth to perdone the, though [Page] it be agaynst the ryght waye of iustice: for not alonely for thy fole hardynesse thou oughteste to dye, but also for the offence that thou hast done agaynst my bountie and vertue, y t which thou haste sette in the balance of doubt, bycause this that thou haste sayde to me, yf it came to knowledge of sundry persons, some wolde beleue that thou foundeste me redy aparelled to accomplyshe thy desyre, as in hauyng pytie of the payne of Lereano. Thou oughtest to thynke that my dignyte shulde haue put the in feare, rather then his fole hardines to haue made the so bolde. yf thou entend any further to procure his liberte, thou mayst well seke for his remedy, and fall thy selfe in perell: therfore I aduyse the seynge thou arte a straunger, seke for thy naturall sepulture, and not in Ma­cedonia, and to comon with the in such maters, I offende my tonge, therfore I wyll say no more, but I wyl thou know that this that I haue sayde is suffycy­ent, [Page] and yf any hope be in the to speake any further in this case, thy lyfe shalbe shorte, or if thou thynke to come to me with any mo such ambassades.

¶The Auctor.

WHen Laureola had endyd her wor­des, I sawe well her reasons were short, but longe was her trouble & displeasour. So I departed fro her, & thought vpō many thynges, the which greuously tormentyd me, I remembred how farre I was out of Spayne, & of my longe taryeng thence. Also I callyd to my mynd y great dolour of Lereano sore mistrutyng his helthe, & I percey­ued well I could not accōplysh that I was purposyd to do, as to bryng Lereano to lyberte w tout great perel yet I determyned to folow myne enterpryse, duryng my lyfe, orels to brynge Lereano some hope of relefe. And w t this purpo­se, the next day I went to y e palays to se what coūtenance Laureola made: and whē she saw me, she entreated me as she [Page] was accustomyd to do before, without changynge of her porte or chere: whose sure demeanour brought me in greate suspecte. I thought she dyd it to proue yf I wolde returne agayne to entre in to my fyrste reasons, I fearyd leste she hadde dissimuled to cause me to take corage to haue spoken agayne for Lerea­no, and then to haue punys [...]hed me for my folyshe enterprice. So I coulde not tell wherto to truste, thus I passed that daye and dyuerce other, and euer me thought by the apparence that I could se by her, that I hadde more cause to be bolde, then reason to feare. And in that byleue, I wayted a tyme conuenient, & spake with her agayne, shewynge, my selfe fearefull, though I was not so indede. For in such besynes, and with su­che persons, it is behouable to fynde some doubtfull turbation: for in suche cases, to moche boldenes is reputyd fo­lye, for therby myghte be thought that the dignyte, nor auctorite of the persone [Page] were not estemed. Therfore to saue me fro that errour, I spake to her with no great audacite, but in a fearefull maner So I shewed her all that I thought cō uenient, for the remedy of Lereano, but her aunswer was accordyng to the fyrst sauyng she was not so force, nor in such displeasour with me, as she was before. How be it, in her wordes, she gaue me knowledge, that I shulde be styll and holde my peace, but yet me thought her continance gaue me lycence to speake. And thus euer when I founde tyme & place, I requyred her to haue pitie vpō Lereano. And so diuers tymes I found her aunswers sharpe in wordes, & meke in countenance. And when I had well aduysed al her demeanour, I hoped vppon some profytte, scynge in her dyuers thynges, wherby an amorous harte myght be knowen: for euer when I saw her alone, she was pensyfe and full of study. And when she was amonge com­pauy, she wolde not be mery, she abhor­red [Page] company, and to be alone was her pleasour, often tymes she wolde fayne her selfe syke, to eschewe other pleasurs and if she were espyed, she wolde fayne some dolour or payne, and often tymes she wolde gyue sore sighes. And if Lereano hadde bene named in her presence, she wolde sodeynly starte, and leue her comynge, and blushe redde as a rose & agayne pale: her voyce wolde change, and her mouth waxe drye, and though she coueryd her thoughtes as moch as was possyble, yet her piteous passyon, surmounted her discrete dissimulation, (I say) pitefulnes, for without doubte, accordyng as she shewed after, she receyued these alterations, more of pytie, thē of loue. Howbeit I thought otherwyse in her, seynge the tokens that I sawe in her, I thoughte my selfe halfe spedde of some good hope, and therwith I spedde me to Lereano, and after that I hadde shewed hym all y t was passyd bytwene me and Laureola. Then I counsayled [Page] hym to wryte to her, offerynge my selfe to bere the lettre, and though he was as then more redyer to remēbre what was best for hym to do, to write or not. At last he toke ynke and paper, and wrote suche reasons as foloweth.

¶The lettre fro Lereano to Laureola.

IF I hadde as good reason to write to you, as I haue to loue. Then w t ­out feare, I durste be bolde to do it but to thynke to wryte to you troubleth my wytte, so that I lese myne vnderstā ­dynge. Therfore or I begynne, I fynde my selfe at a greate confusyon: My be­leue sayth I may do it boldly: and your hyghnes putteth me in feare & doubte. In the one I fynde hope, & in the other dispayre: at the ende I agreed to wryte, but myne vnhap is to begyn in y e houre of sorow, for ouerlate it is, now to com­playne me [...] for I am now in y t case, if I haue deseruyd any grace or merite, ther is nygh no thynge lefte lyuynge in me [Page] to fele it sauyng alonely my true fayth, whiche can not dye, as for my harte is without strength, and my soule without power, and my wytte without memory. How be it yf it wold please you to shewe me so moche mercy, as to these my pre­sente reasons, to make some aunswer: the true fayth that I bere you, shulde then suffice, to restore agayne in me, all the partes that are destroyed, I repute my selfe culpable, to demaunde of you any reward, and neuer dyd you seruyce, and though ye take my seruyce & payne in good gree, yet ye paye me alwayes with doubtfull thoughtes. ye may say: how ame I so bolde to write to you, yet haue no meruayl therof, for your beau­tie causeth myne affection, and the af­fection myne desyre, and desyre y e payne and the payne causeth the boldnes. And for this that I haue done, yf ye thynke I haue deserued deth, cōmaund to gyue it me: For it were better for me to dye for your cause, then to lyue without the [Page] hope of your good wyll. And to say the trouth, without ye gyue me the deth, I shall gyue it my selfe, to fynd therby the lybertie, the which lyuynge I haue ser­chyd for. This wolde I do, and it were not that I shulde leue you defamyd, as to be renomyd a murtherer. Unhappy shulde be that remedye to delyuer me out of payne, and to cause you to bere blame. Therfore in eschewynge of all such incōuenientes, I requyre you send me your lettre, as a reward for all myne euyls, that I slee not my selfe, for I can not lyue with that I suffre, & my deth shuld so toche your honor, that all the dayes of your lyfe ye shuld be defamyd. And yf it maye please you to do me any relefe tary not, nor be not slowe lest ye shall haue no tyme to repent you, nor no place to redeme me.

¶The auctor.

ANd where as Lereano accordyng to the grauite of his passyōs wold further haue executed his wrytyng, but [Page] then vsyng prudent discreciō, for all hi [...] payne wrote no larger, for that he had wryten was sufficyēt to cause Laureola to knowe hys euyll and payne, for when letters be wryten at length, that is vsyd when the writer thynketh, that the rede [...] hath as good wyll to rede them, as th [...] sender hath to write them, but Laureola was quyte deliuered fro that p̄sumpciō wherfore he extendyd hys letter no lar­ger. The which when it was endyd, I receyuyd. with greate heuines, to se the sore wepyng that Laureano made, the which I felt more, then I can expresse Then I went fro hym and spedde me to Laureola, & when I came ther as she was, I found a tyme propyse to speke to her, and or I delyuered the letter, I said to her as foloweth.

¶The auctor to Laureola.

Ryght excellent Lady, fyrst or I say any thynge to you I require you to receyue the dolour & payne of me your poore kaytiue, for the dischar­ging [Page] of myne importunat suet, for wher so euer ye shall fynde me of custome, I shalbe euer more redy to serue you thē to be importunate. And surely Lereano endureth more payne for the trouble that ye receyue, then for the passiō that he suffreth, wherof he wold excuse hym selfe though his wyll desire to suffre it, to the eutent that it shuld not trouble you, yet his sowle desireth not to suffre but ra­ther to be in reste. The one cōmaun­deth hym to be styll, and the other byd­deth hym put oute his voyce. But tru­styng in your vertue, his dolour is op­pressyd, desyryng to put all his euyll in to your presence, beleuyng on the one parte ye shuld be dangerous, & on the other parte that it shulde cau [...]e you to haue compassyon. Beholde now many wayes he deseruyth meryte, to forget his trouble he desyreth the deth and not withoute ye consent therto, and bycause it shuld not be said that ye consent ther­to he desyreth the life, in that he receued [Page] his payne to be happy, and for lacke of his desyre, he loseth his vnderstan­dyng, and to prayse your beawte, he de­syreth ayde of all the worlde. Beholde how moche ye are bounde to him, for he prayseth them that distroyeth him, he hath all his remembrance vpon that thyng that is the occasyon of all his e­uyl, and by aduenture I shuld be so vnhappy that he shuld lese his loue by my intercession, which he hath deseruyd by reason of his faythfull harte: yet I had rather I were dede, wherfore I requyre you to receyue this letter fro hym, and in the redyng therof to shew hym some mercy, for the payne that he hathe suf­feryd, and yf ye blame hym ye are more culpable then he, for that ye haue suf­feryd hym to endure payne so longe, ye perceyue well the sorow that he is in, by the wordes in his letter, the which tho­ugh his mouth spake them, & his hand wrote them, yet his dolour dydde or­deyne and deuise them, & as god sende [Page] you parte of heuen as ye haue deseruyd in the erth that ye will receyue this his letter, & make hym an aunswere, and al­onely with this reward ye maye redeme hym, and therby do away his debilite, & mynysh hys torment, and fauor his sy­kenes, and brynge hym in to that state, that he wyll desyre no more welth, nor endure no more payne, and if ye wyll not thus moch do for hym, to whom ye are so moch bounde, nor at my request, I maye then well repute you cruell, but I hope so moche in your vertue, y t accordyng to yuor olde custome, ye can do no thyng but vertue.

¶Thanuswere of Laureola to the Auctor.

THe perseuerance in thy pursewt bryngeth me to so streyght a case, that many tymes my thought is dought what to do, other to banysh the owt of this lande, orels to Ieobarde my fame, in gyuyng the place & leysure to say what thou lyst, yet I ame agreyd [Page] not so to do, nor to put the to that extre­myte, by reason of the compassyon that I haue of the: for though thyne ambas­sade be euyll yet thyne entensyō is good as to fynd remedy for y e sorowfull. And the other way I wyll not take bycause of myne honor, for he can not be delyue­red fro payne, without I be defamed. yf I could remedy his euyll withoute daunger or blottyng of myn honour, I wold do it with no lesse affeccyon, then thou desyrest: but thou knowest well how that women are bound to preserue theyr good fame, rather then theyr lyfe, at the lest they shuld esteme it more then theyr bounte: for though y e lyfe of Lereano, shuld fynysh by deth, yet iudge thy self, whether I ought rather to be pite­ful to me self, or to his euyll. And if all women ought thus to do, then specially such as be of noble blod ought so to do: for al peple soner regardeth a smal spot in noble persons, then a great fawte in low psonages. Therfore in thy wordes [Page] conferme the to reason, for thy demaūd is vniust: y u thynkest I ame pleased w t thy comonīg, which is cōtrary, though thy demaūd trouble me; yet thy cōdyciō pleaseth me, & I haue pseasour to shew the myne escuse w t iust reasons, to saue me fro charge, blame, & sclaunder. The letter that thou woldest haue me to receyue maye well be excusyd, for my defence is of no lesse power, than the perceuerance of his hope: but syn thou haste brought it, I ame pleasyd to receyue it, but hope not of any aunswere, trauayll no more to desyre it, nor at lest speke no more therof, lesse that my dys­plesure trowble y t not asmoche as thou now prayseste my pacyence & sufferyng I blame my selfe, & that in: ii. thynges, bycause I comon so longe w t the. The one is bycause y e qualyte & heate of the cause hath brought me in trouble. The other is bycause thou mayst thynke y t I ame well pleasyd to speke with the in this mater, and beleuest how I shuld [Page] agre to Lereano though thou thynke so I haue no meruayll: for wordes is the Image of the harte. Go thy way, cōtent the with thyne owne Iudgement, and cary with the good hope, of that thou desyrest, and not to be condempnyd in thyne own thought: for yf thou returne agayn to make new request, thou wylt repent it, I will aduyse the lette this be the last spekyng of that mater oreles y u mayste well know thou shall repent it, for sekyng remedy for a nother, shalt fayle remedy for thy selfe.

¶ The Auctor.

THe wordes of Laureola dyd bryng me in to great cōfusyon, for when I thought best to vnderstand her then I knew lest of her wyl: whā I had most hope, then I was farthest out of y e way. And when I thought my selfe most sure, then I was in most feare for y e dyuersyte of her. Iesture & behauour blyndyd myne vnderstandyng. The receyuyng of the letter satisfyed me, but [Page] the ende of her wordes put me in dys­payre, so that I know not what way to folow, nor how I shuld fynd any hope. And thus as a man without counsayll, I departyd fro her, & went to Lereano thynkyng to gyue hym some counsayll and to seke y e best meanes that I coulde deuyse to remedy parte of his euell, and when I cam to hym I said as foloweth

¶The Auctor to Lereano.

FOr the expediciō that I bryng, ye may well knowe where woordes fayle, dylygence can not preuayll. Thou dyddyst recōmaūde thy remedy to me, but fortune hath bene to me so cōtrary, in that she wolde not be to me so fauourable, as to satysfye me in any thyng that is passyd, but fortune is ra­ther myne enemy. Though in this case I hadde good excuse to ayde the, for tough I was the messenger, thyne was the besynes. The mater that I haue passyd with Laureola I cā not vnderstand it nor can not shew it, bycause it is of so [Page] newe and dyuerce cōdycyons, a thou­sand tymes I thought to haue bene at the poynte, to haue gyuen the remedy. And agayne as often, to haue gyuen the thy sepulture: al tokens of her wyl, (wonne & vanquysshed) I saw in her cō tenance, and all the folysh frowarde­nes of women withoute loue, I harde in her woordes, Iudgyng vpon her de­meanour. I was ioyfull, and heryng her wordes, I was sorowfull. Some­tyme I thought she dyd prudently dyssimule, and agayne I thought she wan­tyd loue, but fynally when I saw her so moueable & changable, I beleuyd then veryly that ther was no loue in her: for if a persone be taken with loue, the hart shall be constante, and where as loue lacketh, ther is mutabylyte. On the o­ther parte I thought she dyd it for fare of the cruell harte of the king her father what shall I say she hath receyued thy letter, & manyshed me to the deth, yf I speke any further in thy cause, beholde [Page] now this greuous case, Ther semyth in one poynt .ii. dyfferences, yf I shuld shew the all that was passyd bytwene her & me, I shulde want tyme to speke yt. I requyre the enforce thy wytte and aswage thy passion, for in folowyng thy payne, thou hast more nede of sepulture thenne of comforte: for withoute thou take some repose, thou shalt leue here thy boones, in stede of thy true fayth, the whych thou oughtest not to do: for satysfying of thy selfe, it were more con­uenyent for the to lyue rather then to dye, for to be out of payne. This I say, bycause I se the gloryfye in thy payne but in sufferyng payne, thou mayst at­taygne to the crowne of lawde & prayse In that it may be sayd, y t thou enforcest thy felfe to suffre payne for the ladyes sake. Suche as be stronge & vertuous in theyr grettyst mysfortune, shew gret­test harte. Ther is no dyfference bytwe­ne the good & euyll, w tout the bountye be tempt and prouyd. Consider that w t [Page] longe lyfe, a thyng maye be wonne: haue good hope in thy fayth. Thynke y t the purpose of Laureola may change, and thy ferme stedfast loue neuer. I wyll not say all that I thynke for thy consolacion, for I perceyue by thy we­pynges & complaynt, that ardent deth hath lyghtened his flames, but what so euer thou thynkyst that I can do for the, cōmaund it: for I haue no lesse wyl to serue the then I haue to remedy thy helth.

¶Lereano to the auctor.

THe dysposycion that I ame in, y e seyst. The priuasyō of my vnder­standyng thou knowest, y e turba­syon of my tong thou mayst well note & merke: therfore haue no meruaylle though myne aunswere be more with wepyng, then with ornate wordes, by­cause y e Laureola putteth fro her harte, the swete appetyght of my wylle, the thynges that be past bytwen y t and her, for all that thou arte at thy liberte, yet [Page] thy iudgement can not vnderstande her meanyng, how shuld I thē knowe them for I ame so passyonyd: than I can not lyue but alonely to prayse her beautie & to repute my last ende happy. I wolde these shulde be y e last wordes of my lyfe: bycause they be to prayse her [...] what gretter welth can I haue then y t if I were so happy to be rewardyd therwith, as I deserue by reason of the payne that I suffre. who then shuld be lyke me? better it were for me to dye, syn I haue seruyd her, thē to lyue causyng her to haue any trouble or dyspleasour. The thyng that most shall greue me, is when I dye that the eyen shall peryshe that hath seen her, and the harte that remembreth her. The which consyderyng what she is, al my wyttes are past, the ordre of reason. I say thus bycause thou seyst, that in the warkes of my harte in steade of faynte loue, my stedfast loue encreaseth if in my captyue harte they consolaciōs could take any frute. This that thou [Page] hast done to me, suffyseth to enforce me but as the heryng of them that be in he­uynes and lockyd in passyō, in to whose sowle can entre no wordes of comforte, and where thou saest I shuld suffre no­ne euyll, Gyue me the strength therto, and I shall put to my good wyll. As for thynges of honor that thou shewest me I know them by reason, and I deny them agayne by the same reasone: I say I know them, for a man fre in liberte, shuld vse honor, and agayn I denye it, as consernyng to my selfe: yet I seke in my greuous payne to chose an hono­rable death. The trauayll that thou hast receyuyd for my sake, and y e desyre that I se thou hast to delyuer me fro payne, byndeth me to offre for the my lyfe as often as it were nedefull. But syn ther is but smal lyfe left in me, take for satysfaction my desyre, and not my power: yet I requyre the (syn this shall be the fynall good dede, that thou canst do for me, & the last that I shal receyue) [Page] as to bere fro me a nother letter to Laureola with suche newes as she shall be gladde of, and wherby she shall know how I dyspose me to passe out of this transytory lyfe, and no more to trouble her: & to the entent that with good wyll thou shuldest bere it to her, I wyll be­gynne it in thy presence wherof the ma­ter shal be as folowith.

¶The letter of Lereano to Laureola.

Syn that the sepulture is the re­warde of all myne euels, I ame redy now to receyue it, beloue that deth shall not dysplease me, for he is of small wytte that abhorryth that thyng y t gyueth libertie: but one thyng dyspleaseth me, that is in dyeng I shal lose all my hope euer to se you agayn, the whiche sore greueth me. It may be sayd in so shorte a space as I haue ben your seruant, how shuld I so sone lose my puyssance: ye ought not to meruail therat, for y e hope that ye haue brought [Page] me in, and smalle comeforte, with my greate passyon, suffyseth to put away & to destroy greater force, then myne, yet I can not beleue, that ye are cause ther­of, without your workes do certifie the same, but alwayes I haue beleuyd, that your cōdycyon piteous, shulde surmoūt your obstynate wyl, but sin ye wyll that my life shal receue this domage, y e faute therof is myne owne mysfortune. I am sore abasshyd that ye sorow not in your selfe, your owne ingratitude. I haue gyuen you my liberte, & intyerly haue gyuē you my harte, nothyng retaynyng to my selfe: for all that, I can haue no rewarde of loue, yet I desyre to serue you. Who wold thynke that ye shulde dystroy that thyng that is your owne certaynly ye are your owne enemy with oute ye fynde some remedy to saue me. This ye onght to do, orels ye cōdemne your selfe, for my deth & perdycyon can not profyght you. But I desyre that ye wold sorowe for myne euyll: yet yf your [Page] sorow shuld do you any payne, then I desyre it not, syn that lyuyng I neuer dyd ye seruyce. It were no ryght that dyeng I shuld cause you to haue trou­ble. They that loke agaynst the sonne, y e more they regard it, the blynder they be. And so the more I remember your fayrenes, the blynder is myne vnder­standyng. This I say to thentent that of this my rude wrytyng ye shuld haue no meruayll, for in the hard case that I ame in, accordyng to my wyll, I am better dysposed to ende my lyfe, then to make any reasones: yet I wolde that thyng that ye ought to regarde, were so orderyd that ye shuld not occupye your vnderstandyng on a thyng so fayre fro your condycio [...]. yf ye consent that I shall dye bycause ye wold haue it pub­lyshed, ye haue the power to slee me [...] then be ye euyll cousayled, for without hope your beautie hath sertyfyed me therof. And if ye esteme my deth to be good, bycause I ame not worthy to re­ceyue [Page] your grace, the whiche I haue [...]pyd to wynne, by reasone of my true fayth, the which I lese for lacke of de­seruyng, and w t this thought I thynk to suffre all my payne. And if it seme to you that the paynes that I endure for your sake can not be remedyed, with oute offence to your honor. Thyuk that I wyll neuer desyre y e thyng, that shuld torne you to blame: what profyght shuld any thyng do to me that shuld be euyll to you. Allonely I desyre your aunswere: for my fyrst & last reward & to be brefe, I requyre you, syn ye make an ende of my lyfe: yet at lest honor my deth, for in the place where as the de­sperate sowles becometh, yf ther be any welth: There I desyre, to feale none other ioy, but y t ye wyll honor my dede bones that I may ioy a lytle with that great glory.

¶ The auctor.

THe wordes and letter of Lereano finyshed, In stede of wordes myn [...] [Page] eyen were satysfyed, with greate we­pyng, & so withonte power to speke, I departyd, thynkynge my iudgement y t it shuld be the last tyme that I had any hope to se hym agayn alyue. And as I was on my way I wrote a supersc [...]yp­cion vpon the letter, to thentent that Laureola shuld be in doubt fro whence it came. And when I came in to her presence, I delyuered her the letter, who beleuyng that it had come frome some other persone, receyuyd it and began to rede it. And all the season that she was redyng, I regardyd styll her vysage, & when she hadde made an ende, I saw well she was sore troubelyd as though she had sufferyd a great euyll: yet the regardyng of her turbacyon, excusyd not my trouble Then to assure my selfe I demaundyd of her other questyons no thyng concernyng to that purpose. And to delyuer her selfe fro company, y t whych in suche case is perelous, lesse that the manyfest mutacions discouer [Page] not the secrete thoughtes of the harte. Therfore she withdrew her selfe a parte and all that nyghte she was without spekyng of any word to me, as tuchyng that purpose. And the next day she sent for me & shewed me many vertuous re­sons to dyscharge her selfe fro any thyng consentyng to release y e payne of lereano, howbeit, she sayd y t she thought great inhumanite to lese suche a man as Lereano, for so small a pryce, as in wrytyng of a letter, how be it in the re­dyng of his letter I take but smal pleasour. Therfore here I haue wrytten a letter, not w t so pleasant and swet wor­des, as be in his reasons: for who so euer here the wordes in this my letter, may well knowe y t I haue lytle studyed in the arte of eloquence. So for shame­fastnes sodenly her face was inflamyd, and as sodenly agayne pale, she was so sore alteryd and shorte wyndyd, that in maner she brethed for y e deth: her harte & voyce so sore trymbled, that her dyscre­cion [Page] could not enforce her selfe to speke therfore her aunswere was shorte, and also the place requyred no lenger tyme. So she toke me the letter, and kyst her hand, and I receyuyd it. The tenour wherof ensuyth.

¶The letter fro Laureola to Lereano.

THe deth that thou lokest for, by reasone of thy payne I haue ra­ther deseruyd it, yf I shulde put my wyll to thyne: but that is not so, for this my wryttyng is more to redeme thy lyfe, then to satisfy thy desyre, what shulde it profytte me to accomplysh it, for yf I were accusyd therof, I coulde haue no wytnes to salue me, but alone­ly my pure entensyon, which is so pryn­cypall a pertye, that his wordes shulde not be taken nor beleued And with this feare, I haue put to my hande to this paper, my harte & mynde beyng in he­uyn makyng hym iudge of my mynde, to whome the trouthe of all thynges is, [Page] manyfest & knowen. The cause why y I doubtyd to aunswere the, was, bycause withoute my condemnacion thou canst not be assoyled, as thou mayst well se: for though no creature know of this letter, but thy selfe & the berer: yet I know not what iudgement, any of you may make vpon me, though it be but good, yet I ame spottyd with y e suspecte therof. Therfore I defyre the, when y u hast seen myne aunswere, remember the fame & reuome of her that hath sent it, of this I hertely desyre the, for often tymes suche fawors, are publyshyd, for some hath more regard to the victory, then to honour of them that she with suche fauour. And whether it were bet­ter for me to be blamyd for crueltie, or to be spotted or defamyd for beyng to piteous, I reporte me to thy selfe: & yet to gyue the some remedy, I vse now the contrary, thou hast that thou desyrest: & I that I feare, I requyre the to turne & wynde, and kepe secrete my letter in [Page] thy remembrance, for if thou do beleue it, then it nede not to be seen: for that I haue wryten yf it were sene, it shuld be thought that I loue the, and yf thou be leue, the reasons that I haue sayde [...] to be spoken rather by dissymulaciō, then of trouth: then arte thou begyled, in that beleue, for yt is clene contrary, for surely I say them rather with a piteous entensciō then w t any amorous entent [...] And to cause the to beleue this, I wold further extende my wordes, yf I hadde leysour. But to put the in to none other suspeccion, I make an ende of my letter and to thentent that my warkes shulde receyue, a iust rewarde, thus wyll I en­dure my lyfe dayes.

¶The auctor.

WHen I hadde receyued this letter of Laureola I departyd to go to Lereano, thynkyng then to haue with me some company to ayde me in the glory of myne ambassade, & to enco­rage therby Lereano, I callyd then to [Page] me, y grettest enemyes y t we had before, as cōtentaciō, hope, rest, pleysour myrth and comforte. I toke these with me for feare that y e kepers of the prisone wolde resist & defende me the entre. Wherfore I thought to go in ordre of batayl: and when I came to the heyght of an hygh hyll, I had a syghte of the pryson, then I dysplayed my baner all of grene, so that our enemyes toke them to y e flyght in suche wyse that he that fledde fastyst thought to be next the ieoperdye. And when Lereano harde this grete rumour not knowyng what it was, he came to a wyndow of the towre, and spake more with wekenes of spirite, then with hope of socour, and when he saw me comyng in batayll w t suche a goodly company, then he knew what the mater ment, & what for his feblenes, & for his sodeyn ioye, loste his fealyng, and fell downe in a trance in the howse, where he was. And when I came to y e steyres wheron I was wont to mount, Rest, auauncyd [Page] to marche on before, who gaue clerenes & chasyde away all the darkenes of the towre, and when I came to hym & sawe hym in that mortall maner, I feared I came sone inough to wepe, and to late to gyue hym remedy. Then with great dylygence, hope stept to hym, & cast a lytle water of comeforte in his face, and therwith he returnyd agayne to hym selfe, and the better to strength hym, I delyuered hym Laureolas letter. And all the season that he redde it, all suche as I brought with me procured for his helth, Myrth gaue ioy to his harte: rest comfortyd his spyrytes, hope brought hym in to good remembrance. Conten­taciō cleryd his eyen. Comeforte resto­ryd his helthe and strength. Pleasure quyckenyd his vnderstandyng: they treatyd hym in suche wyse, that when he hadde redde ouer the letter, he was all hole, as though he hadde neuer felte passyō, and when he saw that my dyly­gence gaue hym lyberte, he toke me of­ten [Page] tymes in his armes, offeryng hym selfe to be myne, and thought that but a small rewarde, for the deseruyng of my seruyce. His offers were to me in suche maner, that I wyst not how to aunswer hym, as I ought to haue done accordyng to his degre, and after that many thynges were passyd bytwene hym & me, he determy [...]ed to go to the courte and fyrst we went to a towne of his, and taryed there a certayne season, to recouer his strength, and to newe aparell hym agaynst he shuld go to the courte. And when he saw his tyme, he set forth on his iourney. And when his comyng was knowen in the courte, ma­ny great lordes and yong courtyaers went to receyue hym, but he toke more consolacion of his secrete glory, then of all the open honour that was done to hym. Thus he was nobly accompanyd to the palace, and his duetie done to the kyng, he kyst the hand of Laureola, wherein was many thynges to be no­tyd, [Page] and specyally to me who knew the mater bytwene them. The one was ouercome with trybulacion, the other faylyd colour. He wyst not what to say, nor she to aunswere, suche force hathe the passyons of loue, alwayes it dra­weth the wyt & dyscreciō downe vnder his baner, y which I saw there by clere experyence. And though that no man saw ther demanour, nor hadde no sus­pecte bytwene them: yet Persio sonne to the lorde of Gania behelde them, and was as farre in loue, as Lereaon was. And by reasone that all gelous suspecte disordereth all thynges secrete, he regarded ouer ther wordes & cōtenaūces, in so moch y t he gaue full credēce to his own suspect, & gaue not alonely fayth to y t he saw, y which was nothyng, but also beleuyd it surely in his imagynaciō, & with y t euyl thought of ielosy, w tout deliberacyō or coūsayll, he fydyng the kyng in a secrete place, sayd to hym (affermyng y t Laureola & Lereano louyd to gether) [Page] how that he hadde seen them together, dyuerce nyghtes, when the kynge was a bedde, sayng how he shewyd this for the honour and seruyce, that he bare to the kyng. The kynge then beyng sore troubelyd w t those newes was in great doubte, and studyed long or he was de­termynyd to aunswere. And after he had slept on y mater, he bileued Persius sayeng to be true, consyderyng his ver­tue and auctoryte, he wolde shew no thyng, but of trought. Then the kyng determynyd what he wolde doo, and therupō he sent his doughter Laureola in to a towre in to a prysone, and then sent for Persio, & commaundyd hym to accuse Lereano of treason, accordyng to his lawes, of the which cōmaūdemēt he was sore abashyde, but the heate of the busynes enforsyd hym to graūte it. Thē he acceptyd the kynges cōman̄dement and sayde, howe he thankyd god that he was offeryd suche a case, y t his han­des myght bere wytnes of his bounte & [Page] vertue: and bycause that in Macedonia suche deades were accustumed to be done, by wrytyng & not in the kynges presence by wordes, therfore Persio sent a wrytyng to Lereona w t suche reasons as ensue.

¶Persius writtyng to Lereano.

Syn that of good workes, proce­deth vertuous renome and fame it is a iuste thynge that euylnes be chastysed, to thentent that vertue maye be maynteynyd, and with great dylygence bounte ought to be exaltyd. So that the enemyes therof, when ther wylfull operacions be to y e cōtrary, they ought to be cōstrayned to vse bountie [...]: for dread and feare of punyshement. I say this to the Lereano, for the payne that thou shalt receyue, for the trespace that thou hast cōmyttyd, shalbe a chas­tysement to the, and an ensample for all other to feare, for if such thynges shuld be perdonyd, and left vnponyshed, vy­lany shuld then be no lesse fauoryd in [Page] them y do euyl, then noblenes in them y be good. Certainly euyl hath it profited y , all the gentlenes & honeste of thy ly­nage, who gaue the ensample to folow bounte, and thou folowest the workes of treasone, thy progenitours bones wold be redy to ryse agaynst the yf they knew how thou defoilyst (with suche errour) theyr noble dedes, therfore now is the tyme come that sor thyne euyll deades, thou shalt receyue the ende of thy lyfe, and defoyll thy fame. Cursyd be all suche as thou arte, that canst not chose an honourable lyfe, and thou not regardynge thy seruyce nor duetie to thy kyng. To be so bolde w toute shame as to falle in loue with Laureola the kynges doughter, with whome with oute shame, thou hast spoken dyuerce tymes aloone, after the kynges beyng a bedde not folowyng the clere lynage, by which reasone I appeale the as a traytour, and vpō that quarel I thynk to s [...]e the, orels to dryue the oute of the [Page] feld, orels to cause the confesse with thy mouth my sayeng to be true, the which as long as the world endureth shalbe an ensample of my trouth. And thus I leue, trustyng to proue thy falsenes, and to verify my treuth. chose thou the ma­ner of our batayll & armur, and on the kynges part I shal make the assurance

¶The aunswer of Lereano.

MOre shalbe my mysfortune then the malyce withoute the fault y thou chargest me withall of fal­senes shall gyue the payne by iustice accordyng to thy deserte: if thou were as discrete as thou art euyll, in escheweng of such perels. First thou shuldest haue knowen myne entension or thou had­dest gyuen sentence vpon my workes, but nowe I knowe by the that thou se­myst better then thou arte in dead. I thoughte surely to haue comoned with the as with my frende, hauynge confi­dence in thy vertue, but nowe thou [Page] shewyst thyne euyll condicion, lyke as here before thou shewydyst thy bounti [...] with frendly amyte, in lykewyse now y u discouerest thy falshod, wherfor y u ca [...] sest enuyte bytwene vs: or I may say by reasone, enemy to thy selfe for by thyne owne witnesse thou leuyst the good me­mory of thy life with infamy [...] and shalte ende thy life w t shame. why hast thou put thy serpentyne tonge vpon Laure­ola, whose alonely bounte suffiseth, that if bounte were loste throughoute all the worlde, it myght be recoueryd & founde in her. Thou mayntaynyst a celre false­hodde, and I shall defend a iust cause, and shall delyuer & discharge her fro all fawtes and shall charge thyn honour w t shame. I will not aunswere thyne vnmesurable wordes [...] for I repute it a more honest way, to vanquysh the with my handes rather then to sacisfye the w t wordes. I desyre no thyng, b [...]t alonely to come to the case to trye our debate. Thou accusyst me of treason afferming [Page] how I haue ben dyuerce tymes in the secrete chamber with Laureola after y e kynges beyng a bedde & at his rest as­well to the one as to the other. I saye y u falsely lyest: yet I denye not but that I haue regardyd her beawtie w t an amo­rouse desyre. But though the force of loue ordre the thoughtes, yet y e vertue of trouth causyth, clenlynes of honeste, I wold be glad to haue her fauour, but for none euyll thought. And moreouer I shall defende the quarel, and say that I alone neuer enteryd in to her secrete chamber, nor neuer spake wordes of loue to her: so that when the entension synnyth not, the iudgement then shuld alwayes be hole without [...] deformyte. And syn the determynacion herof can not be withoute deth of one of vs, and not determynyd with our tonges, therfore lete vs leue raylyng w t our tonges and abyde vpon the day of our sentence the which I truste in god shalbe for my profyght, and honor to Laureola, and [Page] shame and rebuke to the, bycause thy dedes of malyce: and I to defende by reasone, the trough shalbe determyned by iustice. The armure that we shall chose shalbe all peces acordynge to the custome of our countrey. Our horses bardyd with lyke speres and swordes, and with any other armure or wepyn that is vsyd, with the whiche I truste to s [...]ee the or to cause the to denye, that thou hast sayde, orels to chase the oute of the felde.

¶The auctor.

THus euyll fortune, enuyous, of the welth & prosperite of Lereano, vsyng againste hym her naturall chaungeale condycion, she gaue hym a torne, whan she saw hym in his moste prosperite, whose mysfortune to behold, was great passion, and constreyned the heres to payne. Thus leuīg to speke of this trouble. After Lereano had aun­swered Persius letter, the kynge knowyng y couenaut of this batayll, assu­ryd [Page] the feld, assyngned out the place where the batayll shuld be determyned & all thynges necessary was ordeyned, that perteyned to suche deades, accor­dynge to the custome of Macedonia. And on a day y e kyng went to his stage, and the knyghtes came in to the felde, eche of them accompanyd as they were fauoured, and as they hadde deserued, sauyng the equalnes of bothe pertyes honours. They were lyke brought in to the felde, so they (after theyr reuerence done to the kyng) ranne eche at other, so that by the force of theyr strookes, they shewed the vertue of theyr hartes. And theyr speres broken at theyr fyrste encoūter: then they drwe ont theyr swordes, and fought so fercely, that it was m [...]ruayll to behold theyr deades and compassyon for that they sufferyd. And to be brefe in this history, Lereano in gyuynge his heuy strokes at a stroke strake of Persyus ryght hande, so that it fell to the erth, sworde and all. When [Page] Lereano saw, how that Persyo had lost y best parte of his defence (sayde) Per­syo to thentent that thy lyfe pay not his duetye, for thy falseyes, reny that thou haste sayd. Then Persyo sayde: do as thou oughtest to do, though myne arme fayle me to defēde, yet my harte faylyth not to dye. Lereano heryng y e aunswere preasyd to hym, and gaue hym many sharpe & heuy strokes. And when Per­syus frendes sawe hym in ieoperdy of his lyfe they requyryd the kyng to caste downe his batone, assurynge hym that Persyo shuld be brought forth to abyde suche iugement as it shuld please hym, yf he were found culpable and gyltye. To the which requeste the kyng cōdis­cendyd, & so they were depertyd, wherwith Lereano was sore agreuyd, & not withoute good reasone. For he hadde great meruayll, why the kyng delte so with hym. Then they were conueyede oute of the feld with lyke seremonyes: how be it, they were not lyke in fame & [Page] honour. So they were brought to theyr lodgynges and there taryed all nyght. The next day in the mornyng, Lereano determynyd to go to y e palace to desyre the kyng in presence of all his courte to restore his honour, & to do vpon Persio ryghtwyse iustyce. But Persyo, who was malycyous of his condycion, and sharpe wyttyd, to thentent y t he myght by some meanes attayn to his purpose, whyls y t Lereano spake w t the kyng, he callyd to hym .iii. false men lyke to his own condycions, & toke theyr othe that they shuld shew them. To y which they agreyd. Then he gaue to them moche money, so that they shuld say, and swere to the kyng that they had sene Lereano spekyng w t Laureola in places suspect, and in tyme dyshonest: which they pro­feryd to afferme, and to swere it, to the lefyng of theyr lyues. I leue to speke of the doloure that Laureola sufferyd, by cause the passyon shuld not trouble so my wytte, but that I myght make an [Page] ende of y t I haue begonne, for I haue no lesse payne to remembre her sorowe beyng absent, then as thought I were present, and saw it with myne eyen: but I wyll torne to Lereano, who had more sorow for her prysonement, then glory of his victory. When he knew that the kyng was ryson he went to the palayce, & in the presence of the knyghtes of the courte he sayd to the kyng as folowith

¶Lereano to the kyng.

SIr of suertie with better wyll [...] I wold haue sufferyd the chastise­ment of your iustice, then y shame to haue come to your presence, if I had not atteygned yesterday the better of the batayll: The which yf ye had taken well, I shulde haue bene clene quyte & delyueryde fro the false accusacion of Persyo, for in the syght of euery man I shuld haue gyuen hym the rewarde, that he deseruyd, It is great dyfference to haue power to do a thynge, and to do it in deade. Great auauntage ye shewyd [Page] hym, y reason why, I can nother thynke nor imagine [...] ye cōmaūdyde to deperte vs, and specially syn our debate tochyd your selfe so nere, as he that shuld desy­re to be reuengyd for the loue of Laure­ola, lyke a pytefull father, and I beleue well that as now ye be well satysfied of her dycharge and ignorance. And syr yf ye dyd it for compassion, ye hadde of Persyo, ye ought as iustely to haue re­gardyd myne honour, aswell as his lyfe, seyng I ame your naturall subget. And yf ye dyd is by reasone of the inportunate [...] suet of some of his frendes, ye ought aswell to haue remembryde the seruyce that I & myne haue done you, syn ye know w t what constaūce of hart, many of them in dyuerce bateyls haue loste in your seruyce theyr lyues, which none of them haue done, the .iii. parte. Therfore syr I requyre you that by ui­stice ye wyll satysfye the honour that I haue wonne w t my handes. Syr kepe your lawes if ye thynke to conserue [Page] your naturall subiectes, nor syr con­sent not, that so false a man, shuld lyue that kepith so euyll preemynence of his predecessours, to the entent that his venyme do not corrupte them, that be his parte takers. Certaynly I ame cul­pable in no thyng, but in that I haue bene so good a frende, to my wrongfull accuser, and if for this I haue deserued payne, lette me haue it, yet my clere in­nocency shall assoyll me. I haue conser­uyde his amyte, beleuyng he had bene good, and not iudgyng his euyll nor falsenes. If ye suffre hym to serue you, I say he shalbe the beste seruaunt to make dyscorde and lyes, that shalbe in all your courte. Syr remember in your selfe how ye be bounde to do ryght to eury man. Wherfore determyne this cause with prudence, and gyue sentence with your acustomed iustice. Syr the thynges of honour ought to be clere, and if ye perdone hym for any request: though yt be by the pryncipall of your [Page] realme, or for any other thyng at your pleasur, I wyll not then abyde y e iudge­ment of dyuerce of your mē, to be taken as clene dyscharged. For thought some beleue the trouth by reasone, yet some wylbe troubelyd, and say the worste. And though in all your realme, the trouth be not knowen, yet comenly the fame of the trouth by reasone of fouour of the partye wyll not be borne farre of: so y t I can not be clene dyscharged out of all mennys fantasyes, yf this man scape withoute open punyshemēt. Syr for goddessake sette myne honour with oute any dysputacion, & as for my lyfe ordeyne at your pleysour:

¶ The auctor

TO the sayng of Lereano, the kyng gaue good entent, and aunswered that he wold take counsayll what was best to do, and sayde that in suche a case delybercion wold be taken, or any sentence shuld be gyuyn. Of trouth the kynges aunswere, was not so swete, as [Page] it ought to haue ben: for by that I saw, yf the kyng hadde put Laureola at her lybertie, Lereano hadde enduryde no trouble. For he thought to serue her, for all y t he was reputyd culpable, though his entent were clere withoute faulte, Thus the kyng to eschewe the rumour and besynes that was lykely to fall by­twene Lereanos frendes & Persius, cō ­maundyd Lereano to go to a towne of his owne, a .ii. leages fro y court cally [...] Susa, and there to tary tyll he had set a dyrection in y e mater. The which Lereano dyde with a ioyful hart, thynkyng that [...]aureola was clerely dy [...]chargyd, whiche was y e thyng he mooste desiryd [...] But then Persyo who alwayes traue­lyde to offend and to shame his honour and to defende it by malyce, he sente for ii. of his complyses, or Laureola was delyuerede and sayde to them: That eche of them a parte shulde go to the kyng, and of them selfe to shew hym, how that the accusacion of Persio was [Page] trew and to bere wytnes that they had [...]een Lereano dyuerce tymes speke with Laureola aloone suspyciously. The which wytnes and affyrmacion, whe [...] the kyng hard it, he was sore trowbelyd therwith, and examynyd eche of them a parte by subtyle & sharpe perswasions to se yf they any thyng swaruyd in ther sayenges. But they were such persons, that if a man shulde haue wastyde all his lyfe in falsenes, coulde not be lyke them. They were so sure of theyr wor­des, the more they were examynyde the surelyer they fortefyed theyr false lyes. So that therby the kyng gaue to theyr false sayenges, fayth and beleue. And by reasone of theyr informaciō, y e kyng reputyd Persyo for trew seruant and beleuyd that it was more by reasone of his fortune, rather then by his vntrw quarell, that he lost the batayll. O Per­syo better it hadde ben for the to haue sufferyd the deth at one tyme, then to deserue so many dethe. So the kyng in [Page] purpose to punysh y e innocensy of Lau­reola, by reasone of the treasone of the false wytnes, ordeynyd y t his doughter Laureola shuld haue the sentence of iustyce. The whiche when it came to the knowledge of Lereano, he was ther with nere oute of his wytte, and wi [...]h great fury and passion desperate, determynyde to go to the courte to delyuer Laureola, and to slee Persyo, orels to lese his owne lyfe in the quarell. And when I saw hym wyllyng to folow that fantasye, wherin was more perell then hope. Then I desyryd hym to worke sagely, and so by reasone of the altera­syon that he was in, he was in a great perplexite. And when I saw hym stande in suche a dysmayde trance, I thought then to serue hym with my counsayll, to thentent he shuld not do that thyng in haste, wherby to repent hym after. And consyderynge the way that I tho [...]ght moste sure, I sayd to hym thus.

¶The auctor to Lereano.

[Page]SIr I desyre you to be dyscrete to thentent that I may prayse your wytte, that ye may so deale to re­medy your euyll, that ye may be ioyfull as I desyre, and praysed as ye deserue. This I say for the sage pacience that thou shuldest shew in the tyme of thyne aduersyte: for though I se well y e thyne vnderstandyng be occupyed w t passion: yet thou shuldest consyder what thou wylt do, and with what dyscrete know­ledge. Thou shuldest rather folow my symple counsayll, then to put to execu­cion thy foresayde wyll. Thus: thou shuldest do by thyne owne naturall in tysemente. Moche haue I studyed on that thou oughtest to do in this thy greate fortune: And accordyng to my power iudgement. The fyrst thyng to accomplysh it for the, to take reste, the lack therof trowbl [...]th the in thy present case. And after myne opynion thy fyrste determynaciō shalbe the laste to put to execucion: for as thyne enterprice is [Page] great and weyghty, accordyng ther to, demuer delyberacion shulde be deter­mynyde or yt were executyd all wayes in a thyng doughtfull. The most surest way wolde be taken. And yf thou be disposede to slee Persyo, or to delyuer Laureola. Fyrste thou muste cōsyder by what wayes thou mayste do it, & skape away with both your honours, for her honour is more to be estemyd, then the lyfe. For yf thou ca [...]ste not accōplyshe thyne enterpryce, thou shalte leue her cōdempnyd, and thy selfe dyshonouryd. Thou knowyst that men workyth, and fortune iudgith. And if thynges passe well, then they be praysed: yf they for­tune euyll, then they be dyspraysed, and taken for euyll. If y u delyuer Laureola thou shalte be callyde valyant: yf thou assay and fayle, then y u shalt be reputyd a fole. Cary here a .ix. dayes, for then shalbe y execusiō of the sentence agaynst Laureola. In the meane seasone let vs proue & assay all other remedyes, that [Page] any hope is in. And if we fynde no re­medy in that, then execute thyne entent, though thou lese thy lyfe therby, yet it shalbe to thyne honour and fame. One thynge thou shulde [...]te prouyde for, or thou begynne, I putte case thou had­deste now broken the prisone, & taken oute therof La [...]reola, and caryed her away, into thyne owne lande: yet she shulde be condempnyd and reputyd culpable, and wher soeuer thou shuldest sette her, yet she shuld suffre payne, the which then shuld be gretter euyll, then y e fyrst. Therfore the best way as semeth me is to do after this maner. I wyll go in thy name to Galleo, brother to the quene, who for parte desyreth y e delyue­rance of Laureola, asmoche as thy selfe doste. And I shall shewe hym what is thyne entent: and desyre hym (to the entente he sholde bere no charge nor blame) that he wold be redy with a cer­tayn nomber of men, the same day that thou shuldest do thyne enterpryce, that [Page] yf thou fortune to gette Laureola oute of prisone. Then to put her in to his handes in the presence of eury man, in wytnes of his ignorance, and of thy clennes, and so he to receyue her tyll the kyng haue prouyd the trouth in euery thyng, and to kepe her in his castell: wherby this busines may come to a good ende: but as I haue sayde this way muste be y e laste shote ancre. Therfore fyrste I wyll go to the court, and speke with the cardynall of Gaula and w t other lordes & prelates that I can fynde ther. And I shall desyre them to speke to y e kyng, desyryng hym to grant Laureola her lyfe. And yf we fynde no remedy in this, then I wyll desire the quene that she with all other ladyes & honest women of her courte and of the citie, to go to the kyng, and desyre per­done for her doughter. To whose we­pynges and peticions, I can not beleue that pitie shalbe denyed. And yet if that can not auayll: then I shall cause Lau­reola [Page] to wryte to the kyng her father, certyfyeng hym of her innocency, and if all these wayes wyll not serue: then shall I offre to the kyng that thou shalt fynde a persone that shall do deades of armes agaynst those .iii. false witnesses and if none of these wayes can preuayll Then proue thy strength, and therby peraduenture thou shalte fynde y e pitie in the kynge that thou sekeste for. But yet or I deperte me thynkyth y u shuldest wryte to Laureola in strengthyng of her feare, with suertye of her lyfe. The whiche thou mayste well do: syn heuyn dysposith, that is wrought vpon the erthe it can be none other wyse, but that god wyll receyue y e wepynges of inno­centes, and thy iuste petycions.

¶ The auctor.

SO Lereano swaruyde no poynt fro myne aduyse, bycause he thought it the moste sure way, for the expedicion of his purpose. How­beit his harte was not sure: for he [Page] dough [...]yd lest the kyng in his ire shuld haue gyuen sentence vpon Laureola or the day came. How be it by the lawes of the lande she shulde haue .ix. dayes re­spyght. Though his harte fearyd this it was no meruaill: for they that be true louers, all y t is contrary to them, they lightely beleue it. And that they desyre most, they thinke them selfe therof most vncertayne. How be it he concludyd to write to Laureola with greate dought, that she wold not recyue his letter. The tenour wherof was as folowith.

¶The letter of Lereano to Laureola.

RAther wolde I put my handes to rydde myne owne life, then to be­gyn to write yf I knewe that my workes were cause of your prisone, as­moch as myne euyll fortune is, y e which is to me so contrary y t it can not cause me to dye well w toute I may saue you. The whiche I purpose to do. And if I dye in that quarell (ye shalbe delyueryd [Page] quite oute of presone, and then I clene rydde fro all my mysaduentures: and so the deth of one shalbe cause of .ii. li­berties. I requyre you take me not as your enemy, for any thing that ye suffre syn my merites are nat the cause, but rather it is myne euell fortune. And ye may well beleue that though your do­lours be neuer so great, yet I fele more torment in y e thinkyng vpon them, then ye do in the suffrynge. Wolde to god that I hadde neuer knowen you, and yet therby I shulde haue lost the sight of you: the which to me is the gretest welth of this worlde. I shulde haue ben ryght happy, and I hadde neuer sene nor harde, of the dolour that ye suffre and I ame so accustumyd to lyue in he­uynes that I ame fayne to take coun­saill for your cause: but in the payne y t I fele now I take no counsayl, nor I haue no rest, nor my harte can not be quyt for the payne that ye suffre: Feare not the deth, for my propre handes shal [Page] saue you therfro. I shall serche all the remedies that I cane fynde to apeace y e kynges ire. And if y t faylle, trust in me that for your liberte I shall deale in such wyse, that as long as the world endureth, there shalbe remembrance and ensample of hardy valiantnes. For this that I say is no great thyng to be done for besilde your excellent valeure. The cruell Iustice of your presone causeth my hardynes, who cā resist my strength syn I haue it by your meanes. What thing is it that the harte dare not enter price, your beaute being fixed therin. Ther is allonely but one euyll in your saluasion, the which may be bought w t an easy pryce accordyng to your deserte that is, losynge of my lyfe. And though I so do it is but a smalle losse, so it may delyuer you. With my good hope, strengh your feble [...]es: for and ye shuld sette your thoughtes vpon al ieoperdes ye myght sone therby ende your life: wherby .ii. greate inconuenientes shuld [Page] ensue. The fyrst and principall is your deth. The .ii. is I shuld thē be preuatyd fro the gretest honour that any man myght haue, as in that I shulde not then saue you. Lady, beleue in my wor­des and trust my promyse, do not as some other women do, to take great feare: for a small cause. If your femy­nyne condycion accuse you with feare: Then lete your discrecion strength you agayne, which ye may well do by myne assurance: and bycause this that I say shalbe wel prouyd. Therfore I requyre you beleue me, I wryte not to you at length as I wold do, but I shall proue to further your lyfe.

¶ The auctor.

WHyle Lereano wrote his letter I made me redy to deperte and recey­uyd his letter, and made all the dylygence that I coulde, tyll I came to the courte and dyd my deuour that in me was to haue spoken with Laureola, to haue gyuen her some comeforte: but [Page] I was denyed to se her. Then I was enfourmyde of the chamber wher she laye, wher was a wyndow with a great grate of irone. And at nyghte I came thyther, & wrappyd the letter together, and sette it on a spere poynte, & so with moche trauaill I dyd cast the letter in at the wyndowe in to her chamber, and y e next mornyng I came thyder agayne, and saw the wyndow open, and I saw wher Laureola stode, but the latyse was so thycke, y t I cowlde haue no perfyght syght of her. Fynally I aprochyd nerer to the wyndowe, and when she saw me marchyng for by y e wyndowe. She cast sodenly oute a letter, withoute spekyng of any worde: bycause of the prease that was nere hande. And as I was goyng away, she sayd: Take there the reward of the pite that I haue shewed, and by cause her kepers were nere aboute her I durst make none aunswere: but her wordes dyd put me in to suche passion, that who so hadde folowyd me by the [Page] trace of my wepynge, myght well haue found me out. The tenour of her letter folowith. ¶Laureolas letter to Lerea.

I Cannot tell the Lereano, how to aunswer, and where as euery man lawdith pite and reputith it for a vertue, and in me it is taken for a vice. And accordyng therto I ame chastysed, I do as I ought to do accordynge to pitie: & I haue as I deserue accordyng to my mysfortune. For surely thy fortune nor thy workes is no cause of my presone, nor I complayne not of the nor of none other persone lyuynge, but alonely vpon my selfe, who to kepe the fro the deth, charge my selfe culpable, howbeit, this compassyon that I haue of the is more paynefull, then charge. I do remedy as innocent, and yet I ame punyshed as culpable. How be it, moche more pleasyth me this presone beynge withoute errour, then to be at liberte, & infectyd therw t. And though yt be paynefull to suffre, yet I ame [Page] easyd agayne that I haue not deseruyd it. I ame she that amonge all lyuynge creatours, ought leste to lyue, without the kynge saue me. I hope vppon no thinge but deth: for yf thou delyuer me, or any of thyne, in what so euer maner it be, I shalbe dolorous. And yf thou do not remedye me, I ame sure to dye: and yf thou delyuer me and take me a­waye I shalbe condempned as culpa­ble. Therfore I requyre the to trauayll to saue myne honoure and fame, ra­ther then myne lyfe: for the one muste ende, and the other wyll endure. As I haue sayde, serche to apeace the furour of the kynge my father: for otherwyse I can not be saued without the destruction of myne honour. How be it, I re­mytte all to thy good counsayle and adnyse. Thy wysdome can chose the beste waye: thou mayste se the rewarde that I haue for the fauoure, that I haue shewed the. I ame put in prisone where as murderers were wonte to be kepte: [Page] and I ame tyed with cheynes, and with sharpe tormentes, my tendre flesshe is tormented, and with force of armes I ame kepte, as though I hadde the force and power to skape awaye. Thus deli­cate is my sufferynge, and my paynes so cruell, that besyde y e sentence of deth, my father myght otherwyse haue takē vengeance vpon me, then to suffre me to dye iu this cruell prisō. I haue great meruayle how of suche a cruell father, shulde issue so pacyente a doughter: yf I shulde be lyke hym in condicion, I shulde not feare his iustice, syn he wyll do it so vniustely. As to that touched Persio I wyll make none aunswer, by­cause I wyll not defyle my tongue, as he hath done my fame and renowne. I had rather he wolde reuoke and denye his wordes that he hath sayde, rather then he shuld dye for them: but what so euer I say, determyne thy selfe as thou lyste, thou mayest not erre in that thou wylte do.

¶The Auctour.

Ryghte dowtious I was when I hadde receyued and redde the let­ter sent fro Laureola to Lereano, whether I shulde sende it to Lereano, orels kepe it styll, tyll I weut my selfe. At last I determyned not to sende it for two consyderacyons and inconuenien­ces. The one was, I feared to put our secretes in perell of discoueryng by reason of puttyng truste of any meane messenger. The other was for feare lest the trouble that the letter shulde put hym vnto, shulde cause hym to execute his purpose in hast, before the tyme agreed betwene hym and me: and therby all myghte haue ben lost. So to tourne to my fyrst purpose: The fyrst day I came to the courte, I proued and tempted the wylles of suche, as I thought wolde be of our opinion, and I foūd none of the contrary desyre, sauynge the frendes of Persio, to whom me thoughte it but a foly to speake. And then I went to the [Page] Cardyna [...]l, and desyred hym y t it wolde please hym to make supplicacion to the king for the life of his doughter Laureola. The which he grauntyd to do with no lesse loue and compassion, then I desired it. And so incontinent w t dyuers other prelates and greate Lordes toge­ther, they wente to the kyng. Then the cardynall in hys owne name, and in all theyrs, sayd to the kinge as folowith

¶The cardynall to the kinge.

Syr it is not without reason that noble princes in tyme past ordy­ned theyr counsaillors, to ordre by them what was to be done: wherby they found great profytte. And though coūsaill were stablished for many goode causes, yet I fynde .vi. reasones that y e same law ought to be obserued. The fyrst is bycause that men may moche better order other mens maters, rather then theyr owne: for the harte of hym that the mater tochyth can not be with oute some ire, couetesnes, affection, or [Page] desire, or some other lyke condiciō. So that he shall not determyne the cause, as he ought to do. The .ii. is when maters be pleatyd and arguyd: the traugth is the better knowen. The .iii. yf the counsaylours ordeyne iustly, and bryng the mater well to passe: the glory and honour is to them that folowyth suche counsayll. The .iiii. is yf by another mannes counsayll the besynes fayleth and takyth none effecte: yet he that demaundeth the counsayll is oute of blame & charge: and they that gaue the counsayll muste bere the charge & faulte. The .v. ys bycause good coūsayl often tymes assuryth thynges that be dobutious. The .vi. is yf a man be faulen in euyl fortune: yet in all aduer­sites good counsayll putteth the pertye in good hope. Certaynely syr it is but a blynde counsayll, a man to counsayll hym selfe, knowynge hym selfe in any furour or passion. Therfore syr blame vs not, though in the fercenes of your [Page] ire, we be come to trouble you: for we hadde rather that ye shulde in your ire reprehende vs for our comynge to you: Then that after ye shulde repent you and condempe vs, bycause we gaue you no counsayll. Syr thynges done by good delibercyō and accord, procurith profyt, and prayse to them that so doth: And thynges done in hast & with fury, repētance must make amendes. Suche wyse and noble men as ye be, when they shulde do any warke, fyrst they shulde determyne, or they dyspose, aswell in thynges present, as in thynges to come and aswell in those thyuges that they hope to haue profyte by, as in those thynges that they feare the contrary. And if they fynde them selfe troublyde with any passion, tyll they be cleryd therfro, they shulde gyue no sentence. And yf they debate, and delaye ther deades, then they do well: for in all suche weighty maters, hast is daunge­rouse, and tariynge is suretie. A wyse [Page] man that wyll do instly must thynke on all these thynges, and or he do any thyng, folow reasone, and establish the execucion honestly. It is the properte of them that be discrete, to proue theyr counsailours, and not to determyne vpon a lyght credence: And there as a thyng femyth do [...]btefull, holde then the sentence in balance: for all thynges ys not of trouthe, that semyth to be true The thought of the wyse man, now agreeth & now demaundeth, and now ordeyn, and all wayes cast in his minde what may fall, and be ielous of his fame, and kepe hym selfe fro erryng, and for feare of fallynge therin wyll remember that is past and take the best therof, and ordeyne for the tyme present with a temperance, and to remember what is to come, and in all these to take auysemente. Syr all this that we haue sayd is that ye shulde remember your wysdome, and ordeyne your deades not furyously: but lyke a wyse man, and [Page] torne the force of your natural wysdome against the accydent of your ire. Syr we haue knowlege that ye wyll con­demne your doughter Laureola to deth yf her bountie, and goodnes haue not deseruyde to be iustyfyde: Then of trouthe, ye are not ryghtwyse iudge: neuer trouble your gloryous fame w t suche a iudgement. And we put case though she had deserued this punyshe­ment, yet in your so doyng, ye shalbe defamyde and reputyde rather for a cruell father, then a ryghtwyse kynge. ye gyue credence to .iii. euyll men, & of shamefull conuersacion, certaynly as good reasone hadde it bene, to haue shortyd theyr lyues, as to haue gyuen credence to theyr wytnes. They be men sore defamyd in your courte, for they conferme them selfe to all iniquite. They glorifye them selfe in theyr false reasones makyn [...], & in the begylynges that they make. And syr why gyue you more fayth to theyr informacio [...], rather [Page] then to y iudgemente of god, the which was clerely sene in the batayll bytwene Persio & Lereano. Be not the sheder of your owne blodde: for then of all men, ye shalbe dyspraised and dispysed: blame not the innocent for the coūsayll of the enuyous. And yf ye thynke that for all the reasons that we haue sayde, that Laureola ought not to be sauyd: yet for that ye ought to do for vertue, & bycause ye be bound of your royalnes for the seruice that we haue done you, in our most humble wyse: we requyre you to haue mercy of her lyfe. And by­cause that fewer wordes then we haue spoken shuld suffice to your clemency, to conuerte you to pytie. Therfore we wyll saye no more, but that ye wyll remember how moche better it is that your i [...]e shuld peryshe, rather then your noble fame.

¶ The kynges aunswere.

Syrs I repute me, well counsaylyd by you if I were not more bound [Page] to punyshe, then to perdone [...] ye nede not shew me the reasone, how that great prynces ought to receyue conusayll, as in that and in other thynges that ye haue shewed, I knew them ryght well, but ye know well, when the harte is chargyd with passione, then is it locked fro herynge of any counsayle and in y t tyme, the fruteful wordes, to mytigate the passion of ire, causeth it the sorer to encrease bringing to the memory the cause therof wherfore I say yf I were quyte for that impedyment, I thynke then I shuld dispose, and ordeyn sagely for the deth of Laureola the whiche I will shewe, she hathe dese [...]uyd by iust causes determyned acordyng to honour and iustice, and yf her errour shulde be lefte vnpunnisshed, I shulde then be no lesse culpable, then Lereano. As to­chyng my dishonour and shame, yf it were publisshed that I shulde perdone such a case, of my neigbours I shuld be dispraised, and of myne owne subgettes [Page] disobeyed, and of euery man smally e [...] [...]ed. And also I might well be accused y t I haue euil conserued the generosite of my predecessours. And this faulte myght be so far exstemed, that it might spotte & defowle the fame of myne auncettours passed, & blemysh y e honour of them that be present, and steyne y e blud of them that be to come: for one spotte in our lignage, myght confounde all our generacion. The perdonynge of Laureola shuld be cause of other great euils, the whiche shulde folow by reasō of my perdonyng: wherfore I hadde rather to cause feare, by reasone of my crueltie, then to cause boldnes to do euil by reasone of my pitie. And in my so do­ing I shalbe estemed as a kinge ought to be, by reason of doing iustice. Be holde how many reasons there be, that shlude lede, y t she ought to haue sentence ye knowe well, our lawes hath stablis­shed, that a woman accused in such causes shuld suffre deth, and ye se well, how [Page] it were better for me to be called a kyng in mynystrynge iustice then to perdone the culpable. And it ought well to be noted y t in stede of consernyng the lawe, if I do breke it my selfe, y e whiche I ought not to do, then I cōdemne my self. The righte waye oughte equally to be kept & obserued: for the hart of a iuge ought not to be mouede for fauoure, for loue, nor couetyse, nor for none other accidēt: folowing the right iustyce is laudable. And yf it be fauourable, then it is ab­horred. Iustice ought neuer to go oute of the ryght way, syne it is cause of so moche goodnes. It cansith feare to them that be euyll, and it susteynyth them that be goode. It pacefyeth all differences: it determynyth al questions it expelith all stryues and contensions & it agreith all debates, it assurith the wayes, it honourith the people, it fa­uourith the small people, and of base condicion, it bridilith the myghty men, and to the comon weale, it is ryght pro­fytable. [Page] Then to conserue such a welthe and that the lawes susteynyth it, It is ryght that I shuld vse iustice. yf ye de­sire so moch the helth of Laureola, and prayse so moche her goodnesse, brynge forth one witnes of her innocensy, as I haue .iii. to charge her, then she shall be perdonyd with reasone, and praysed with trouth. Also where as ye say that I shulde gyue faith to the iudgemente of god, aswell as to the wytnes of other men: it is no meruayll thought I do not so, for I se the wytnes certayne at myne eye: and as for the iudgment is not yet endyd, For thoughe Lereano hadde the better of the batayll we may iudge the my [...]es, but we know not the ende. I will not aunswere to al your alegasyons and sayenges, bycause I wyll make no longe proces, and at the ende sende you away without hope. I desire moche to accept your requestes bycause of your well deseruyng therof: and if I do not, yet I requyre yon take [Page] it for none euyll, for ye ought no lesse to desyre the honour of the father, then the saluacion of his doughter.

¶The Auctor.

THe desperate aunswere of y e kyng, was to the herers great heuynes. And when I saw that this remedy was to me cont [...]ary, then I sought for a nother way, trustyng that shulde be more profitable. And y t was I thought to go to the quene that she shuld desyre the kyng for the saluacyō of her doughter Laureola. So I wente to her, who was partaker of her doughters sorow. And I founde her in an hall acōpanyd with many noble ladyes and other. who were suffycyente to haue atteygnyde theyr desyres, other iuste or vniuste, though the mttaer hadde ben neuer so greate, yet theyr desyres ought not to haue ben refused, bycause of y e auctorite of the quene, who knelyd downe and spake wordes to the kyng, aswel leyeng charge to hym for his ire, as also wor­des [Page] of pitie to apeace hym. And she shewed hym the moderacyon that a kyng ought to haue, and reprehendyd the perceuerāce of his ire: and shewyng hym how he was a father, and allegyd reasones ryght dyscrete to note and full of sorow: sayng, that if he wolde nedes execute his cruell iudgemente, to do it rather vpō her selfe (seyeng great parte of her yeres were passyd) then vppon Laureola in her yonge age, aprouyng that by her owne deth, the fame of the iudge shulde be sauyde, and the lyfe of her that is iudgyd, and the mynd of the desyrer fulfylled. But the kynge styll was indurate in his fyrst purpose. All the quenes rasones could not serue nor yet her bytter wepynges. And therwith the quene went in to her chamber with small strength sore wepyng, and as redy to dye. And when I sawe that the quene could gette no grace of the kyng, I went to the kyng withoute any feare of his fers [...]es, and sayd: how he ought [Page] to gyue his sentēce with clere iustice, for Lereano shulde fynde a man to fyght agaynst all those .iii. false wytnesses, orelles to do it his owne proper person, and to pay them accordynge to theyr desertes, and then god shall shew where the ryght is. Then the kyng aunswered me, that I shuld leue myne ambassade for Lereano: sayeng how the heryng of his name encresyd his passyon and ire. And when the quene knewe there was no remedy to saue the lyfe of Laureola: She went to the prisone and kyssed her dyuerce tymes, and sayde, as folowith.

¶The quene to laureola.

O Bountie, by malice accusyd. O vertue, by ire cōdemnyd. O doughter borne of thy mother to sorow: thou shalte dye withoute iustice, and I must wepe by reason. Thyne vnhappe hath more pusance to condempne the, then thyn innocēcy to saue the, without the I shall lyue accompanyed with do­loures, the whiche in thy stede thou [Page] shalt leue me. Thy deth shal ende .ii. ly­ues, the one is thyne without cause, and myne by good reasone and ryght. To lyue after y shuld be to me a sorer deth, then that thou shalte receue: for it is farre greatter tormente, to desyre the deth, then to suffre it. Wolde to god, thou myghtest be called the doughter of the mother y t shuld dye, rather then to be she y t I shuld se dye. Of euery mā thou shalte be bewailed [...] as long as the worlde endureth: all that of the haue any knowledge, wyll sette litle by this realme, y whiche thou shuldest enheryte accordyng to thy desertes: for all that y u art fallen in to thy fathers displeasour, yet all suche as knowith the affyrmyth, that there is none in all this land that deserue thy merytes: suche as be blynde desyre to se y : the dome desyreth to speke with the: the powre and y e ryche to serue y , all the world is wel content with the, y u arte be hatyd w t no creature, but alo­nely with Persio. yf I may lyue a sea­sone, [Page] he shall receue for his demerites, iuste rewarde: And thouhe I haue noone other strength, but to desyre his deth [...] and to be reuengyd of hym yf I coulde: the euill will I bere hym, shuld then soone be vtteryd. yet this can not satysfye me: for I can not heale the do­lour of the spotte of the execucion of the vengeans. O my dere doughter thy ho­nesty hath prouyd thy vertue. why doth not the king gyue more credence, to thy presence, then to the wytnes of thy false enemyes. In thy wordes, deades, and thoughtes, all wayes thou hast shewyd a vertuous harte. Why then shulde god suffre the to dye, I can fynde none other cause, but by reason of my synnes that I haue cōmyttyd, rather then for any meryt of thy ryghtwisnes. I wold my deades myght be cōparyd to thyne innocency. Dere doughter lyfte vp thyne harte to heuyn, take no sorow, to leue that must nedes ende, for that thyng that is permanent I: assure the [Page] our lord god wyll that thou shalt suffre as a marter, to thentente y t thou shalte ioye in his beatitude. In me haue none other hope, but that and I were worthy to go thyther, as thou arte suer to go, I wolde shortely bere the company. Thynkyst thou not, that it is a harde trouble to me to remember how many supplicacions hathe ben made to the kynge for thy lyfe, and yet they can not obteyne. And at this houre, a sharpe knyfe may rydde and make an ende of thy lyfe, and therby leue the father in faulte, and the mother in sorow, and the doughter withoute helthe, & the realme withoute an herytour. O the lanterne of myne eyen, I say to the these feareful wordes to the entent they shuld breke thyne harte a sonder: for I hadde rather thou shuldeste dye in my power by sorow, then to se the dye by iustice: for though I shuld shede thy bludde, yet my handes shulde not be so cruell, as is the condicion of thy father. O virgyne [Page] immaculate syn I can not accomplysh my desyre, and that I muste deperte fro the: yet receyue the dolorous laste kyssynge and blyssyng of thy sorowfull mother: And thus I wyll go fro thy syght, and fro thy lyfe, & most desyring to go fro myne owne lyfe.

¶The Auctor

WHen the quene hadde endyde her wordes she wolde not abyde the aunswere of y e innocent her dough­ter Laureola, bycause she wolde not receyue doble sorow. Thus the quene and suche lordes as were in her cōpany departed, with the grettest lamētacions that euer was made. And when she came in to her chamber, she sent to Lau­reola a messenger, aduysing her to wryte to y e kyng her father. Thynkyng that he wolde take more compassion by reasone of her piteous wordes, rather then by the peticious of any other that trauellyde for her liberte. Who at the cōmaundemēt of her dolorous mother [Page] [...]oke penne and inke and wrote with greater turbaciō, then hope of remedy. Her letter specyfyed as folowith.

¶The letter of Laureola to the kynge

DEre father I vnderstande, that ye haue gyuen sentence vpon me to dye, and that the terme of my lyfe shalbe accomplyshede within these .iii. dayes, & I knowe well the innocentes ought no lesse to feare theyr fortune, then suche as be culpable to feare the lawe. And syn it is so that my mysfor­tune hath brought me in to this parell that I ame in, and not for any defaute that I haue done, the which lyghtly ye moght know, if the furour of your ire wolde suffer you to se the trouth. ye are not ignorante of the vertue that the auncyante cronicles & historyes many­festith of the kynges and quenes: fro whome I do procede. Then why was I borne of suche a blodde that wyll by­leue rather the false informasion, then [Page] the bounte naturall. yf it pleace you to slee me, for your pleasur, ye may well do it: But as toching iustice, ye haue no cause therto. The deth that ye will gyue me, though I refuce it for feare: yet by reasone of obedience I do cōsent therto, as she that louyth better to dye vnder your obedyence, rather then to lyue in your dyspleasure. Howbeit I requyre you, or ye determyne, take good aduyse for as sure as god is true I neuer dyd thyng to deserue to suffre any payne. But syr I say to you, it is as cōuenient the pitie of the father, as the rygoure of iustice. Withoute dought I desyre aswell my lyfe, because it tocheth your honour so nere, as I do, bycause it per­teyneth to my selfe: for at the ende I ame your doughter. Co [...]sidre syr who soeuer vsith crueltie, serchith for his owne perell: more surer it is to be be­louyd, for vsynge of pitie and clemence rather then to be fearyd by crueltie. He that wyll be fearyd, muste feare. Cruell [Page] kynges are of euery man behatyd, and suche, some tyme in serchynge to be a­venged, losyth them felfe: for theyr subgettes rather desyre trouble & change of the tyme, then the conseruacion of theyr astates. For good people feare suche condicions in a prince, and suche as be euell feare theyr cruell iustice: so that therby often tymes, theyr owne ser­uantes study to put them downe [...] and to slee them: vsynge with them the same condicion of cruelte, suche as they vsyd them selfe before, and gaue them en­sample. Syr I say this bicause I desyre to susteyne your honour and your lyfe. Small hope your subgettes shall haue in you so cruell against me. They shall feare the same, and ther by haue you in a meruelous suspecte, and he that is not sure, can make no suretie. O how frely delyueryd fro suche occasions are those prynces [...] whose hartes are endeu­ed with clemencye and pitie. Theyr naturall subgettes careth not to dye in [Page] theyr quarels, to saue them fro perell. They will wake all nyght, and defend [...] them on y e day More hope and strength these benynge and pitefull kynges h [...] ­ue, by reasone that they be belouyd o [...]f theyr people, then in the strenght of the walles of theyr stronge forteresses: And other wyse, if the kynge be behatyd of his subgiettes [...] if he hadde nede, they that come most slackest to saue hym, shall haue moste thanke of the people. Therfore syr regarde well what hurte and daūger, crueltie causeth: and what profyt gentlenes and pitie procureth: Howbeit if ye thynke the opinyon of your furour better than good counsaill and naturall prudence, then vnhappy is that doughter to be borne, to bryng her fathers lyfe in to cōdiciō of sclaun­der prouyd with suche cruell deades. Thus no man shall trust in you, nor ye shall trust no man: for if men procure your deth, ye can be in no suretie. And the thyng that most greuith me is, i [...] [Page] gyuyng sentence agaynst me, ye do iustice against your owne honour, the wiche all wayes shalbe reco [...]dyd, more for the cause, then for iustice in it selfe. My blode shall occupye, but a small place, but your crueltie shal sprede ouer all the yerth: ye shalbe callyd the cruell father, and I the doughter innocent. For syn god is iuste he shall clere my trouth: for I shalbe lefte w t oute faulte, when I haue receyuyd the payne of dethe.

¶The Auctor.

WHen Laureola had endyd her let­ter, she sent it to the kynge by one of her kepers, who loued and fauoured her in suche wyse, y t he wolde gladly she had bene at her libertie: for he was asmoche moued te pytie her, as to obey the kinges comaundement. And when the kynge hadde receyued y e letter and redde it, he cōmaunded streygthly that the berer therof shulde auoyde his pre­sence. And when I saw that, then newly [Page] agayne I cursed my mysaduenture, & thought that my tormente was so great that it occupied my harte in dolour: yet my mynde forgat not to do y t I ought. And though I hadde more space to en­dure payne, rather then to fynde reme­dy: yet then I wente, and spake with the lorde Gawlo her vncle, and shewyd hym how Lereano was determynyd to take Laureola perforce out of presone, wherfore I desyred hym to be redy with a certayne nombre of men, that when Lereano hadde taken her oute of presō, then he wold delyuer her to his power to sette her in sauegarde. Because that if Lereano shulde cary her away with hym, it shulde veryfy the wytnes of the false accusers. And bycause that y e deth of Laureola was as dere to hym, as to the quene his suster: he aunswered me & sayde, how he was content therwith. And when his wyll and my desyre were confyrmable together, then I depertyd secretly, bycause that or any brute were [Page] made y e dead myght be executyd sodēly. And when I came to Lereano, I she­wyd hym all that I hade done, and of the small effect therof. And then I dely­uered hym Laureolas letter, and what for the compassion of the wordes therin and with the thoughtes that he deter­myned to do, his harte therwith was so oppressyd, y t he wist not what aunswere to make me. He wepte for compassion, any coulde not refrayne his ire, and was sore discomefortyd by reasone of his euyll fortune, and yet he hopyde accordyng to iustice. When he thought to reskew Laureala, he was ioyfull. And agayne when he doughtyde to brynge it aboute, his harte changyde. Fynally leueng al doubtes, & knowyng the aunswere of Galleo, then he began to study what waye to accomplishe, his enterprice. And lyke a wyse knyghte, well prouydyde whyle I hadde ben in the courte: he had assemblyd to gether of his own seruātes .v. C. men of armes [Page] without knowledgyng of any of his kynne or frendes. Some peraduenture wolde haue agreyd with hym with dis­crete consideracion, suche as were made priuy. Some of them sayd, y e kyng dyd euil. And some sayd it was a ieopdous enterprice and perilous to accomplysh. Therfore to exchew al such incōueniēts he thought to execute his dead alone w t his owne men. So the day before that Laureola shuld haue bene iudged, Lereano callyd before hym all his seruantes and sayde to them: how the good vertuous men were more bounde to feare theyr shame, then the perell of theyr lyues. Also sayenge, how yet lyueth the fame of them that be passyd, by reasone of theyr deades that they haue done. And he desired them that for couetyse of worldly goodes y e whiche shall haue an ende, that they shulde not for that, lose the glory of them, that liueth per­petually. And he desyred them to haue in theyr memory, the rewarde of well [Page] dyeng, & he shewyd thē what folyshnes it was to feare deth. And in theyr so do­yng, he promysed them great gyftes & rewardes. And when he hadde made to them a long sermon, then he declaryd y e cause that he sent for them: and all they with one voice proferyd to lyue and dye with hym. And when Lereano saw theyr good wylles, he thought hym selfe then well accompanyd, and so de­pertyd in the nyght, and came in to a valey nere to the citie, ther he taryed all the nyght, and infourmyd his mē what they shulde do. He apoyntyd one capi­tayne with a. C. men of armes, that they shuld go streyght to the lodging of Persyo, and to slee hym, and asmany as dyd resyst them. Then he apoyntyde other .ii. capitayns with eche of them .l. footemen, to go vp the two principall streates, goyng to the presone where as Laureola was `cōmaundyng them that when they came to the preson, then they to torne theyr faces to the citie warde, & [Page] kepe & defende that no person shulde entre in to the castell vntyll suche tyme as he with other .iii. C. men came to take oute Laureola. And the capitayne that he hadde cōmaundyd to sle Persio he cha [...]gyd hym that when he had done to come and mete with hym at the presō and they to defende the passage, yf any came to entre in to the castell, whyle he were taking oute of Laureola. And all this thus agreyd & cōcluded, when the gates were opened in the [...]ornynge so­denly he and all hys men entered in to the citie and euery capitayne [...] toke hede to his charge. The capitayne that had the charge to sle Persio, executed his cōmaundemente, for he slew Persio, & all other that were in his way to lette hym. Ther Persio endyd his myserable lyfe, and Lereano went to the preson and what with the furour of his ire, & with the vertue of his force fought so fercely with the kepers of the presone, and slew so many that he could not get [Page] for dede bodyes, but with mo [...]he payne. But as i [...] al pe [...]els the bountie encrea seth by force of armes. So by clene force he came in to the preson wher as Laureola was, and there he toke her with as greate seremony and honour as thought hit hadde bene in tyme of peace, he knelyd downe to the yerth, and kyl [...] her hande, lyke the doughter of a kynge, and with that present tur­bacion, she stode without strenght, so that she coulde not moue her selfe, Her harte dismayd, her colour faylyd, litle parte of any lyfe was lefte in her. Then Lereano tooke and caryed her oute of prisone, and then mette with Galleo her vncle accordynge to his promyse, who came thyther with a certayn nomber of men, and there in the presence of euery man Lereano delyueryd, Laureola in to his handes, and still his men fought against them that came againste hym: but he set Laureola vpon an hakeney, that Galleo had ther redy, and agayne [Page] kyste her hande, and then went to ayde his men, that were styll fyghtyng, and still he regardyd after Laureola, till he hadde loste the syght of her. So Galleo her vncle ledde her to a castell of his owne not farre thence, and when y e brute of this dead, came to the heryng of the kynge, he callyd for his armure, and sownyd trompettes, and causyd all the men of his courte to be armyd, & many of the citie. And when Lereauo saw that of necessite it was tyme for hym to get oute of the towne in to the feldes, then he comfortyd his men, with swete and hardy woordes. And all wayes in his reculynge, he defendyd the multitude of his enemyes with a valiante harte, and to kepe an honest maner in his re­culynge, he went in good order, and not with so great haste, as the case requiryd Thus lesyng some of his men, and sle­yng of, many of his enemyes, he came thither where he had left al theyr horses So suche order as he had sette before [Page] was well and truely kepte, and so with­out perel he & his lept vpō theyr horses, the which was hard to haue ben done if he had not wysely prouidyd the remedy therof before hand. Then the horsemen put before them theyr foremē, and toke the way to Suria, fro whence they cam And when Lereano saw .iii. bandes of the kynges aproche nere hym, then he wente oute of the waye, and conductyd so wisely his company by wayes of a vauntage, that he scapyd with as great honour in his reculynge, as he hadde wonne in the fightynge: so he enteryde agayne in to the towne of Suria with­oute losse of any of his men, which was greate meruayll: for the kyng was ther in propre person with .v. M. men of ar­mes, who was inflamyd with ire: and so beset the towne about, in purpose not to depert thence till he had taken ven­geance of Lereano. when Lereano saw how he was besegyd, he sette his men lyke a wyse man of warre to the walles, [Page] where as was most feblyst parte, there he sette most defence, and where as he myght best issue out in to the feld, there he sette such men as were mete for that purpose, and there as he fearyd other crafte or treasone, there he sette such as he trustyd best. Thus he vsyd hym selfe lyke a wyse capitayne. The kyng thyn­kyng to bryng his enterprice to an ende cōmaundyd to fortefy his campe, and to prouyde for all thynges necessary perteynynge to a campe royall, as en­gyus, bastides and bulwerkes to beat the citie with artilery, and made greate dykes that none shuld issue oute, when the kynge saw so longe tariynge at this siege his ire encreasyde: for he hadde thought to hade taken Lereano by rea­sone of famyne, and for all that he saw the towne ryght stronge, yet he deter­mynyd to sawte it the whiche he prouyd with suche fercenes, that they within had great nede to put to theyr strength and dilygence to resiste. Then Lereano [Page] went & visytyd his men with a .C. men suche as were deputyd for that purpose, and euery where he saw any fyghtyng, he euer encoragyd them, and where as he saw valiantnes he praysed them, and where he saw any euyll order he founde remedy. Fynally the kynge caused to sowne the retrayte with losse of many of his knyghtes, & specially of the yonge lusty courteers who euer sekyth for pe­rel [...]s, to wynne therby glory. Lereano at the same assaulte was hurte in the face and also loste many of his princpal men. This assaulte past, the kyng gaue other .v. assaultes within the space of iii. monethes, so that in maner men beganne to fayle on bothe parties, so that Lereano was doubteous of that enter­price, how be it in his wordes and countenance, nor in his deades nothynge of feare coulde be aspied, so that y e corage of the capitayne, incoragyd all the other capitayns, and then to gyue corage to his men suche as were lefte, he sayde to [Page] them as folowith.

¶Lereano to his company.

CErtaynly syrs as ye be but few [...] in nōber, so our strength is not greate I haue doubte in our enterprice accordyng to our euyll fortune, but in that, vertue is estemyde more then is greate nomber, and consyderynge your noble deades passed, I thynke I shuld haue more nede of good fortune, then of greate nōber of knyghtes: wherfore alonely in you is all my hope, and syne our helthe is in our handes, aswell for the sustentacion of our lyues, as for the glory of good fame, we ought valiātly, to fyght, now y e case is offeryd vs orels to leue the profyt of our enherytance to them that wold disheryte vs. Thus we shulde be vnhappy if for feare & faynte corage we shuld lese our herytage: ther­fore lette vs fyght, to delyuer our blude fro shame and dishonour and my name fro enfamy, this day lette vs make an ende of our lyues, orels conferme our [Page] honours, lette vs defende our selfe, and not to be shamyd, for greater is the re­warde of vyctory, then the occasions of perel. This paynefull lyfe that we lyue in, I know not why we shulde somoche desyre it, the daies therof are but shorte and longe in trauayll, y which for feare increseth not, nor for hardynes shorteth not: for when we be borne, our tyme is lymyted, the whiche we shal not passe, thereby feare is subdued, & hardynes lawded, we can not put our fortune in a better state, then to hope of an honourable deth. O glorious fame. O couetyse laudable the auerise of honour wherby is ateyned greatter deades, then this of ours is, lette vs not feare the greate company that is in the kinges campe for at the fyrste encounter, the weke [...]hall fyrst fyght, and ouercome them, & [...]hey shall abashe the multitude & the small nombre wyll enforce themselfe by vertue: many thynges dryueth vs to be hardy, bountie and vertue byndeth vs, [Page] and iustice enforseth vs, necessitie shall rewarde vs, wherfore we ought not to feare, for theyr is nothynge that shulde cause vs to dye. Syrs all these reasones that I haue sayde is but superflew to enforce our strenght. Syn we haue it naturally but I will say to you that in euery tyme our hartes onght to be occupied in noblenes, & our handes in dea­des of armes, and our thoughtes in good workes & good wordes amonge company, as we do now I [...]eceue equal glory aswel for the amorous good wyll that ye shew me as for the deades of armes that ye haue done, and bycause I se our enmyes prepayre them to fight we be constrayned to leue our talkyng, & euery man to gette hym to his charge and defence.

¶The auctor.

LEreano was aūswerd of his knightes w t greate constance and corage of harte, whereof he thought hym selfe ryght happy, that he hadde suche [Page] men in his company, so euery man went to his defence, where as they were apoyntyd and then anone, they hard the trompettes blowe, and wihtin shorte space there came to the walles, a.l. M. men, and began fresly to gyue assaulte. Then Lereano shewed his vertue, and by reasone of theyr defence, the kynge thought they within hade loste neuer a mā. This assaut endured fro y myddes of the day, tyll it was nyght, the which depertyd them: there were slayne & hurt of them withoute a .iii. M. and asmany of them within, so that Lereano hadde lefet no mo with hym but. C.l. persones and yet by his contenance, he semyd as though he had loste neuer a man, how be it he was inwardly sory for them that he had loste. All that nyght he buryed the dede bodyes, and praysed and law­dyde the valiantnes of them that were lefte alyue and gyuing no lesse glory to them that were dede, then to them that wer [...] a lyue. The next day at the relyefe [Page] in the morenynge, Lereano determynyd that .l. of his menne with hym shulde issue oute, and syt vpon a lodgyng that ioynede to the walles perteynynge to a kynnesmans of Persyos. Lereano dyde this bicause the kynge shuld not thy [...]ke that he lacked men. And this he dyde with ferme boldnes and so brente the sayde lodgynge, and sleu many such as made defence. And as god wolde in the same busynes there was taken one of them that hadde accusyde Laureola, he was brought to Lereano, and was put to payne till he was causyd to shewe all the trouth of the hole mater, and so he confessed the hole circūstance of the ma­ter. And when Lereano was enfourmed of the trouth, he sent hym to the kynge, besechynge hym to dyscharge Laureola fro all blame, and to do iustice vpon them, for the payne that they haue cau­sed Laureola to endure. And when the [...]yng knew the certaynte, he was ryght gladde, and thought it was reason that [Page] he requiryd, and to make shorte proces The kinge dyd iustice vpon y .iii. falc [...] wytnesses accodynge to theyr desertes, then incontynent he reised vp the siege and reputyd his doughter Laureola discharged, & Lereano withoute fawte and so went to his citie of Suria, & then sente for Laureola by y e grettest lordes of his court, and she was brought with equall houour acordynge to her deser­uynge, and was ioyfully receuyd of the kyng & of the quene, who wepte for ioy and there the kinge discharged her fro blame, and the quene kyst her, and all other seruyd her Thus the payne passed was turned to great ioy present. Then the kyng sent to Lereano cōmaundyng hym not to come to his court till he had apeased y e kynnesmen & frendes of Per­sio, the whiche cōmaundement he recey­ued w t greate sorow, bycause he mighte not se Laureola. And when he saw none other remedye, he felte hym selfe in a strange maner, and seynge hym selfe depertyd [Page] fro her. He lefte the workes of chyualry, and retourned agayne to his olde amorouse thoughtes and trowbles desyryng to know what case Laureola was in. He desyrede me to fynde some honest maner, how he myght se & speke w t her, and yet his desyre was so honest, that he desyryd not to speke with her in suche wyse that any suspecte shulde be layde to her, of the whiche he deseruyde to haue had great thanke. And I who was glade to folowe his desire deperted fro hym, and went to Suria: and when I came there, and had kyste Laureolas hande, then I shewyd her Lereanos de­syre, And she aunswered me and sayde, that in no wyse she wolde speke with hym, for dyuerce causes that she alled­gyde. And though she was not content to graūt me at that tyme, yet euer after as often as I myght speke with her, I made styll my supplycacion, and fynaly at laste she aunswerede me & sayde ons for all, that if I spake any more to her [Page] in that mater, she wolde be vtterly dis­pleasyd with me. And when I harde her aunswere, and saw her displeasure then I went to Lereano with greate heuynes and dolour, and when I had shewyd hym how it was: then he began newly to complayne, and sorowe, for hys mysaduenture: so that with oute doubt he was in the condicion to haue dispayred. And when I saw that yet to entertayne hym I sayde & counsaylyd hym to write agayne to Laureola, recordynge therin what he hadde done for her, and maruaylynge of her change, seynge she had rewardyd hym before with her writynge. Then he aunswered and sayde how he was well content to write but not to recite therin any thyng that he had done for her: the which he sayd was nothynge accordynge to her deseruynge. Nor also he sayd he wolde make no remembrance in his letter of any rewarde y t he had receyuyd of her. For he sayd, the lawe of loue defendeth [Page] any suche thynge to be wryten. What satisfacion shulde I receue therby: for the greate perell that myght fall, yf the letter were sene. Thus not tochynge those maters I wyll wryte to Laureola The tenour of his letter folowith.

¶The letter fro Lereano to Laureola.

FAyre lady Laureola accordyng to your vertuous pytie synne ye know my passion I can not beleue but y t ye wyll cōsente to my demaunde, syn I desyre nothynge that shall be to your dishonour seinge ye knowe myne euill, why do you dought, withoute reason I dye. ye know that great payne occupyeth so myne harte, that I feale the euill, and can not shewe it: yf ye take it for good that I shuld dye, thynking to satisfye me with the passion y t ye gyue me, syn it procedeth fro you, hit is the grettest welth that I can hope for, and iustely I shall take it for the ende of my reward, yf ye iudge me vncourteise in y t [Page] I shulde not be content with that ye do to me, gyuinge me cause of so gloriouse thoughts [...] yet blame me not for though the wyll be satisfyed. The vnderstan­ding maketh quarell, and yf my dolour do pleace you, bycause I neuer dyd you seruice that might atteyne to the heigh­nes of your deseruyng. whē I remēbre these thynges, & many mo, I thynke y t bycause that ye wyll not graūte my supplycacion, bycause I can do nothynge that shuld deserue it, yet hardynes hath causyd me to hope vpon mercy, not ac­cording to my deseruing, but according to your bountie that may gyue it. And I thynk that your vertue, cōpassyon, & pitie, shulde ayde me, bycause they be agreable to your condycion. When a man hathe any busynes with a greate personage: thynkyng to attayn to haue grace: fyrste he must wynne the good wylles of the seruauntes, wherby a man lightely shall come to his entent. But as for me I can fynde no remedye. I [Page] haue done my deuour to serche for ayde whome I haue found alwayes ferme & stable for all they haue requyred you to haue mercy vpon me: y e sowle bycause he sufferet, hand the lyfe bycause it su­ [...]teyneth, the harte bycause it endureth, the vnderstandynge bycause it feleth. And syn ye wyll gyue no reward for all these, in that they desyre, and by reasone haue deseruyd, I ame the moste vnfor­tunat of all other vnhappy. The water refressheth the yerth: but my wepynges can not molefye your endurat hardnes. The water gyueth liquor to the feldes, herbys, and trees, but my wepynge can not entre in to your harte. As I fynde my selfe disposyd, dyspayre shuld rydde my lyfe, yf I myght be alone. But al­wayes I ame accompanyd with the thoughtes that ye gyue me, and with y desyre y t ye ordeyne me. Also the remem­brance of that I wolde do cōforteth me: remembrynge how they kepte me com­pany, in suche wyse, that what soeuer [Page] cause I haue desperacion yet it kepeth me fro dispayryng: yf it be your plesure that I shall dye, let me haue some knowledge therof, then I shall not be all vn­happy: for then I shall passe it the more wyllyngly, and at the ende it shalbe to me, the more ease: bycau [...]e it is for your gyfte. And syn ye wyll not se me, I must be enforsed to go that trace.

¶The auctor.

THys letter I bare to Laureola, w t moche payne she receyued it, and to dispache her fro Lereano honestly she wrote agayne in this maner with full determynacyon neuer to receyue agayne fro hym other letter or message The tenour of her letter folowith.

¶The letter fro Laureola to Lereano.

LEreano the displeasure that I haue of thyne euyll shulde be satisfactiō for thy loue, yf thou knew how greate it is. And this alonely take for thy remedy withoute demaundynge of [Page] any other. Though it be but a small paymente, for that thou hast deserued agaynst me. For as I am bound to do yf thou wylt demaunde of my goodes and ryches, as thou dost desyre agaynst myne honour, I wolde gladly gyne it the. I will not aunswere euery article of thy letter for I considerynge that I do thus wryte to the, the bloud rynneth fro my harte and my reason vanyssheth fro my iudgement. Ther is no cause that thou hast wryten of, that causeth me to consent to be sory for thyne euyll, but it is alonely by reason of my bounte yet I haue no doubt, but that thou en­duryst moche euyll: for the perell that y u hast bene in, beareth wytnes of that y u hast suffred. Thou sayst, thou dyddest me neuer seruice. That thou hast done for me, I shall neuer forget, but alwaye desyre to satisfye it, but not as thou de­siryst, but accordyng to myne honestye. The vertue pitie and compassion, that thou thynkyst shulde ayde the agaynst [Page] me bycause they ar agreable to my con­diciō. How be it in this case they are en­mies to my fame: & therfore thou findest them contrary. When I was takē thou sauyddest my lyfe, & now y t I am quyte, thou woldest cōdemne me w t thy desyre. Rather I ought to seke thy payne with myne honour: then to remedy the with myne owne faulte & shame. Beleue not that the people lyue so holily, but & they knew y t I spake w t the, they wold iudge our clere entensions to the worste: for the worlde is so dyuerce, that men wyll rather defame bountie, then to prayse vertue. Thus thy demaūde is excu [...]syd therfore take no hope therein, though thou shuldest dye as thou sayst. For better is honest crueltie, then pitie culpable Herynge this peraduenture thou wylte say I ame moueable, bycause I began to shew the some mercy, as in wrytynge to the, and now determyned not to re­medy y , Thou knowest wel vnder what maner I dyd wryte to the, and for what [Page] entent, and though it hadde ben for any othere cause, yet as conueniente is the mutacion in thynges that be hurtefull: As is ferme stedfastnes in thynges that be honest. I require the, strenght thy selfe, lyke a valiant knyght, and reme­dy thy selfe discretly. Put not thy life in perell, and myne honour in disputaciō, syn thou somoche desyrest it. What shal be sayde if thou dye, that I do rewarde seruice done to me with takynge awaye theyr lyues, to the which I wyll shew y contrary [...] yf I outelyue, the kynge my father, for then shall I gyue the what parte of y e reame that thou wylte desyre. And I shall encrease thyne honour, & double thy rentes, and enhaunce thyne astate, & all that thou wylte ordeyne, nothygne shalbe denyed. And thus by thy lyfe I shalbe iudgyd a good rewarder. And if thou dye I shalbe reputyde of euyll cōdicions, and if it were for none other thynge but for this. Thou shul­dest enforse thy selfe, but for the trouble [Page] that thy payne putteth me vnto, I wyll say no more to the. Bycause thou shalte not think that in thy demaund I shuld gyue the counsayll, or put the in any hope. Wold to god, that thy desyre were honest. Thus I conusayll the on the one parte, and satysfye the on the other. And at this poynte I send to the this letter on the purpose neuer to aunswere, nor to heare the speke more.

¶ The auctor.

WHen Laureola had wryten this letter she sayd to me with a determy­nate aunswere that this shulde be the last tyme that I shuld apere before her presence [...] sayeng that her comnyng with me causyd moche suspect, and that in my goyng & comynge, ther was more perell to her, then hope to me of any re­medy. Then I seynge her determynate will, it semyd to me that my trauayle was more paynfull to me, then remedy to Lereano. So I went fro her w t more wepyng then wordes. And after I had [Page] kyst her hand, I wente out of the place with sobbynge, and gulpynge in my throte, that I was nere strangeled to kepe in my wepynge, and to thentent to couer my passiō. And when I was oute of the citie alone, then I began to wepe in suche wyse, that I coulde not retayne my voyce fro brayng, so that I thought it was better for me to dye in Masedo­nia, then to returne into Castile, y e which desire was resonable, for by the dethe, myne euyll aduenture shulde make an ende: and with lyfe, my sorow shulde en­crease, Thus all the way wepyng and syghyng feylede me not: & when I came to Lereano, I delyueryd hym the letter fro Laureola, and when he hadde redde it, he sayd he wolde nother take strength nor receyue any counsayll, syn it was so good reason that he shulde dye. Then he sayde to me, that alwayes he wolde take me, for more then his frēde, bicause of the good counsayll that I had gyuyn hym. Then w t voyce and colour mortal [Page] he began to complayne, not blamynge his wekenes nor dispraysynge his fall, for euery thynge that myght shortē his lyfe, he praysede, he shewyde hym selfe, frende to dolour, and toke recreacion w t tormentes, he louyd sorowes, all these he callyd his welthe, to be messengers to Laureola. And bycause they shuld be entreatyde accordynge as fro thence as they came, he fyxyd them in his harte, he ioynyde them to his vnderstandynge and conueied them with his memory, he desiryde them to make a shorte ende of that they hadde to do, to the entent that Laureola myght be seruyde, and thus beynge without hope of any welth, and trobled with mortall paynes, could not susteyne hym selfe no lēger, but perforce cōstreynede to lye downe, vpō his bedde where he wolde nother eate, drynke, nor s [...]epe, nor take any thyng for sustētacion of his lyfe, euer calyng hym selfe happy to come to the case to do some seruice to Laureola, as by his dethe, to brynge her [Page] oute of all trouble, so anone it was pu­blyshed abrode in the realme, and in the courte how Lereano was lyke to dye. Theu his kynne & frendes came to comforte hym, and to torne his purpose, they sayde and dyde asmoche as they coulde Imagyne to preuayle his lyfe, & bycause his infyrmite was to be curyd by holsome reasones, euery mā sharpyd theyr wyttes to do the best they coulde. And there was a knyghte callyd Teseo a greate frende of his, he considerynge that his sekenes was for loue, though he knewe not for whome it was, he sayd and shewyde to Lereano all the euyls of women that he coulde deuise, and to conferme his owne reasones, he alegyd asmany thynges as he coulde, in the defamyng of women, thynkyng therby to haue restoryd Lereano to his helthe [...] when Lereano hadde well harde hym, and consyderyde that Laureola was a woman, he rebukyde greatly Teseo for spekynge of suche wordes, and though [Page] as then his disposicion was not moche to speke, yet he enforcyd his tonge, and with the passion of greate iri: sayde as folowith.

¶Lereano agaynst Teseo, and agaynst all euell spekers agaynst women.

FRend Teseo yf another man, that owed the not so good loue as I do hard my wordes, it wolde cause the to receyue payne accordynge to thy deserte: howbeit my reasons shalbe to the suche an ensample, to cause the to kepe thy tonge, and it shalbe a chastise­ment in stede of thy payne, in the which I shall folow the condicion of a true frende, for yf I shewyd the not thy fault by quyke reasons, peraduenture thou woldest vtter forth agayne in other places suche like wordes as thou ryght now sayd, it shalbe most for thy profyt to amend thy self by my contradictions rather then to shame thy selfe with perseuerance, the entent of thy wordes was [Page] as a frende, the whiche I well considre thou sayedest them, bycause I shulde abhorre them that hath brought me in to the case that thou seist me in. And by reason of thy sayeng euyll of women, thyne entension was therby to gyue me remedy of my lyfe, and therby thou hast gyuen me the soner deth: for the shame­full wordes that thou hast sayd, putteth me to suche torment, bycause it is a wo­man, that hath put me to this payne, therfore by reasone of herynge of thy wordes, I shall lyue the lesse season, wherby I shall receue a great welth for the receyuynge of this dolorous deth were better to be shortely, then to sus­teyne y e lyfe any lenger: for it is a thyng delectable to suffre, and with a swet rest to make an ende of this lyfe, the whiche swete ende shalbe by reason that these my last wordes shalbe in the prease of women, and my wyl is somewhat to sa­tisfye her in whome resith al the cause, & to begynne to shew the thyne errour, I [Page] wyll alledge .xv. poyntes agaynste all them that erreth in spekynge euell of women, and .xx. other reasones I shall lay wherby we are bound to say well of all women, with dyuerce other samples of theyr bountie & goodnes. And as to the fyrst let vs found our reasone, how that all thynges made by the hande of god, are necessarily good: for accordyng to the warkeman, the warke ought to procede: then knowynge that wome [...] are his creatures, they that speke euyll of them, offende not allonely them, but also they blaspheme the workeman, the which is god. y e .ii. cause is, y e before god & man ther is not a more abhomynable synne, nor harder to be perdoned, then is ingratitude, for where can ther be a greatter synne, then to put out of knowledge, and to forgette the welth that is to come to vs by reasone of the vyrgyn mary and dayly cometh: she delyuered vs fro payne, and causeth vs to meryte the glory of heuen, she saueth vs, she su­steyneth [Page] vs, she defēdeth vs, she gydeth vs, she gyueth vs lyght of grace. Then seynge she was a woman, then all other for her sake ought to be crowned with lawde and prayse. The .iii. is, bycause it is defended to all men accordynge to vertue, to shew any strength agaynst the weke sex femynyne. And this is ob­serued amonge brewt bestes, wherfore men shulde folow the same, yet some suche as lyst to speke euyll say, though that women can make but small resy­stence with theyr handes, yet they haue no lesse liberte with theyr tonges. The iiii. is, a man ought not to say euyll of womē, withoute he dishonour hym selfe bycause he was creatyde and noryshede in the wombe of a woman, and is of her substance, and also bycause of y e honour and reuerēce, that euery child ought to do to his mother. The .v. is, bycause of the disobedience to god who sayde with his owne mouth, that father & mother shulde be honouryde, therefor suche as [Page] do other wyse do serue sore punishemēt & payne, The .vi. is bycause noble men are boūde to occupye them selfe in ver­tuous deades aswell in woordes as in workes, then yf fowle wordes defowle clenlynes then in perell of slander and defamy, is the honour of suche persons that wasteth theyr lyfe in suche vayne wordes. The .vii. is when that the ordre of chyuaylry was fyrste stablysshed a­mong other thynges, who soeuer shuld take the ordre of knighthod, he shuld be bound to kepe & defend all women, and to gyue them all reuerence and honeste and who so doth the contrary, breketh the lawe of noblenes. The .viii. is to de­fend honour fro perell, the auncyent noble men with greate deligence and study, kepte and obserued alwayes such thynges as perteyned to bountie, and they reputed that so great that they had no greater feare, of any thynge in the worlde then they had to leue behynde them the remembrance of infamy and [Page] reproche, y e which they kept not, y e preferreth turpitud & fowlnes before vertue, putting spottes in theyr fame, by reason of theyr euyll tonge. For oftentymes a mā is iuged to be accordyng to his wor [...]es. The .ix. & most princypal is for the condēnaciō of y sowle: al thiges wrong fully takē, may be satysfyed, but y fame robbyd and taken away, the satisfacciō thereof is doughtfull, y which is more completly determynyde in our beleue. The .x. is to eschew hatryd for suche as bestowe theyr tyme in euyll spekynge agaynst women, they make them selfe not onely enemyes agaynste them, but also to them that be vertuous: for lyke as vertue & vice are contrary, and haue dyfferente propreties so the euyll speker can not be withoute hate and euyll wyll and many enemyes. The .xi. bicause of the hurtes y t by suche malicious deades are encreasyde, for wordes geuith ly­cence, and are ioyned to the herynge, of the rude people, aswell as to them y e be [Page] discrete, and herynge of suche tayles, suche as be but of small spe [...]yte wyll re­proue the euyl speker, & cause them to repente theyr wordes, & entreate them e­uyll, ye & peraduenture sle them the causes may toche so nere. The .xii. to eschew the murmuracions, the whiche euery man ought to dought: for a man beyng defamed, and called an euyll speker in euery place aswell within houses as a brode in y feldes, men wyll speke shame of hym, & murmure at his vice. The .xiii is for y perell that may ensue, for when suche be taken for euyll spekers, they are behated of euery man, and some peraduenture to please theyr ladies, wil set ther handes vpon them that speke euyll of any woman. The .iiii. [...]s for y e beau­tie and grace y is in women, the whiche is of suche excelence, that though they had all suche other vices in them, as the euyll spekers do slaunder them withall yet it were better to prayse one thynge of trouth, then to dysprayse all with [Page] malice. The .xv. and the last is for the great welth and goodnes, that women be causers of, for of them are borne em­perours, kynges, lordes, and all other noble men, and all other ve [...]tuous men doynge deades worthy of prayse, and also of them procedeth wyse men, who seketh to know, what is good, in whose beleue we be saued. Also of women co­meth these inuentyue persons, who maketh cities and stronge buyldynges of perpetuall excellence, & by them are brought forthe such men as seke for all thynges necessary for the sustentacion of the humayn lynage.

¶The other .xx. reasons that Lereano shewed, wherby that men are bound to loue women.

NOw Teseo syn thou hast hard the causes wherin thou arte culpable, and all other that folow such aronyous opinyon, lette vs leue all prolixite, and here .xx. reasones wherby I wyll proue that men are bounde to women. [Page] The fyrst is bycause by theyr meanes, y e symple & rude persones dispose them selfe to attayne to vertue, and to pru­dence, and not alonely, they cause the symple to be discrete, but they cause them that be discrete to be more subtile: for if they be luryd with the passion of loue, they study then somoche for theyr libertie & in sufferynge of theyr dolour they study & imagyne to speke reasones so swete and so mete for theyr purpose, y often tymes for compassyon therof they are delyuerd: & such as be symple, and rude of nature, yf they be enteryd in to loue though they begynne rudely, yet they quycken so theyr vnderstandynge, that often tymes they come therby to wysdome. This they haue by women thought theyr naturall reasone fayle. The .ii. reason is that by reason of iustice they cause men to haue the vertue of sufferance, for such as be in the trayn of loue and suffre payne out of mesure they take it in maner for a comeforte, [Page] iustifyinge, y t they suffer it ryghtwy fly and yet they make vs not alonely ioy for this vertue, but also for other as naturall. For they that be stedfast louers, to be praysed of them that they serue, they seke all y wayes they can to pleace, for which cause they lyue iustly not excedynge in any thynge, in that is honou­rable nor mete to be done, bycause they wolde not be famyd to be of euyll con­dycions, or to vse any euyll customes. The .iii. cause is they make vs worthy in the vertue of atemperance, bycause they shulde not abhorre vs, nor that we shuld not be behatyd of them, they cause vs to vse atemperance in eatynge and drynkyng and slepyng, and in all other thynges that perteynith to the vertue of atemperance aswell in spekynge as in all other warkes, so that we woll not excede in no poynte frome hones [...]ie. The iiii. is, they that lacke strength, women do gyue it to them, and suche as hath strength by the meanes of women, it [Page] doth encrease, they cause vs to be strong to suffre, they cause hardynes to enter­price, they cause the harte to hope, when they putte theyr louers to any ieopedy, they cause them to be [...] glory, they cause vs to repute feare, a great vice, for we esteme more y prayse of our louer, then the price of longe lyfe. For theyr sakes they begynne, & make an ende of many greate ēterprices, puttyng theyr strēgth in the state as they deserue: wherfore we may well indge, y t we be bounde to them The .v. is they endue vs with no lesse vertuos theogecals, then they do with vertuos cardynals. And to speke of the fyrst, the which is faith, yf any man be in dought of his beleue, if his mynde be ones set in loue, then he shall truely be­leue in god, and laude his puyssance to create suche a creature as his louer is, with so excellent beawtye, and they wyll be so deuoute, that the apostels in holy­nes shall haue of them none aduaūtage The .vi. reasone is bycause they engen­der [Page] in our sowles the vertue of hope, so though y subgiettes to the lawe of loue endure moche payne, yet alwayes they hope in theyr beleue, they hope in theyr stedfastnes, they hope in y pitie of them that cause theyr payne, they hope in the cōdycion of theyr louer, who distroyeth them, they hope in the aduenture seynge they haue so moche hope vpō them that gyuith them theyr passion, then they must nedys haue hope in god who offe­rith and promyseth perpetuall comforte and reste. The .vii. reason is, they cause vs to deserue charyte, the propretie ther of is loue: this restith in our wyll, this we put in our thoughtes, this we drawe in to our memory, this we ferme in our hartes. And though it be so that we vse this loue towardes our loueres, yet it redoundithe to the souerayne vtilyte, and welthe in tyme to come, so that w t quyke contricion it shall brynge vs to god: for loue at y pynche of deth causith vs to do almesse deades, and cōmaun­dith [Page] to say masses and occupieth vs in charytable warkes to thentent to dely­uer vs fro our cruell thoughtes, and by cau [...]e that womē naturally are deuoute and bycause we wolde be pertakers of theyr deades, it enforsith vs to do suche good warkes as we do. The .viii. reasō bycause they make vs contemplatiue, for the prisoners of loue, do gyue them selfe to contemplacion, in remembrynge the beaute grace and excellence of them that they loue, and so moche they thynke vpon theyr passions, that often tymes they remember god, & set so theyr hartes vpon hym, that they thynke them selfe well worthy to receyue theyr paynes & tormētes. Thus it may be knowē clerly that women helpe & ayde men, to wynne the glory perdurable. The .ix. reasone is they make our hartes contryte, not w t standynge that some be sore peyned, by cause they cā not attayn, to theyr wylles and desires, then with wepynges and syghynges they desire of theyr ladyes, [Page] some remedye. And the accostumyng of this doyng bryngith them to go cōfesse theyr synnes w t wepyng and waylynge in suche wyse that they deserue perdone and absoluciō of theyr synne. The .x. is the good counsayle that women geuith vs, often tymes it falleth that we fynde i theyr redy coūsayll, that we haue long studyed for before, and sought for with great dylygence: and by theyr peaseable counsaylls withoute sclaunder, they haue withstande many euylls, & sauyde many lyues: they conserue the peace, they refrayne ire, & apeace furiousnes, and sette amyte betwene enemyes. The xi. is men be honouryd by them, they cause greate maryages w t great ryches and rentes, some peraduenture wyll say that honour restith not in ryches, but rather in vertue, I say therto, they cause aswell the one as the other. I presume, that ther be greate v [...]rtue in vs yet the greate honours and prayse that we de­syre to haue cōmyth by them, bycause of [Page] women, we esteme more shame, then our lyues, for theyr sakes we study to do al warkes of noblenes. The .xii. rea­sonne is, they seperate fro vs all auerise the which is the rote of all euyll, and causith vs to be accompanyd with lybe­ralyte, wherby lyghtly we get the good wyll of euery man: they cause vs lybe­rally to spend that we haue, wherby we are praysed & fast tyed to euery man w t good loue, so that in what soeuer necessite we fale in, we shall receyue ayde and seruice, and not alonely they profyt vs, as in cau [...]ynge vs to vse lyberalyte as we ought to do, but therby they cause vs to be moche set by and made of, and what surer thynge can be then to haue the good wyll of the people. The .xiii. reasone is womē encrease and kepe our goodes and rentes, and that we haue goten, they con [...]erue it with greate dy­lygence. The .xiiii. is the clennes that they procure vs to vse aswell in our persones as in our habylymentes, and in [Page] euery thynge that we medle with. The xv. is for y e good bryngynge vp of chyl­dren, the which is a princypall thyng, whereof men haue greate nede, for if we be well brought vp we shall vse all cur­tesye, and eschew the contrary, therby we shal honour the small, and serue the great, & not alonely they cause vs to be well brought vp but also to be belouyd, for yf we entreate euery man as he de­seruyth, they shall entreate vs accor­dyng to our desertes. The .xvi. is they cause vs to be galante and freshe in our aperell, for theyr sakes we study how to aperell vs, and what we may were, and for theyr sakes we aray vs by good in­dustry, and crafte to brynge our perso­nages in to a dewe forme, y which sometyme peraduēture nature denyeth, then to hyde that deformyte, crafte must be vsyde and occupyed, deuysyng the ape­rell accordynge, some tyme long, some tyme shorte, some tyme streyght, some tyme wyde, as best may become the persone, [Page] these galantes for loue of women deuyse new entayles [...] and cuttes with discrete borders, and dyuerse other new inuensions. The .xvii. reasone is often tymes they cause musyke to be hadde of all instrumētes, & many of them occupy the same, so that we ioy of theyr swete armony, for theyr sakes are songe these swete romanses in as subtyle wayes as can be deuysyd. The .xviii. is they cause our force and strength to encrease, for when men come before ladyes, and gen­tle women, they enforce them to cast stones, barres, and dartes, and to wrestyll, rynne, and leape, and the syght of the women vttereth theyr feates with more force, then yf the women were absent, & all this is to thentent, to atayne y loue of theyr lady. The .xix. is they quykken the inwarde spirite, aswell as the body for if we know that our louer take plea­sure in any thynge, other in synginge, daunsynge or playeng, vpon any instrumente, they wyll then applye them selfe [Page] to lerne it and to trauayle theyr sprytes there aboute, and though they were but dull before, yet with suche diligence, they wyll attayne to the perfection of y e arte, therby to gyue recreacion to theyr louer. The .xx. and the last reason is by­cause we be womens chyldren by the whiche respect we are most bounde to women, rather then for any other cause sayd before or to be sayde. For pleasure of womē, are ordyned these iustes royall and pompeous tourneis and these ban­kettes, and ioyfull feastes, for them is begonne thynges of gentlenes, there is no cause why they shulde be by vs dis­prayede. O trespas of greuous chasti­ment, what woman is there in all the worlde that wyll not haue compassiō of the cryes & lamentacions that we shew them, or of the paynefull wordes and syghes that we vtter before them, or of the swerynges and promyses that we make to them, or what is she, that wyll not beleue the stedfast fayth that we promyse, [Page] what harte can be withoute frute herynge the commendable prayses that we gyue them by ferme harte and wyll, and by none adulasiō nor malyce. what woman is she of so ferme and stable a mynde that can defende her selfe, yf she be contynually pursued, consyderynge the deades of armes, wherwith they be fought withall, though they make but small defence, it is no meruayll, and yet suche as can not defēd them selfe ought to be praysed & namyd pitefull, rather then to be reputed culpable.

¶The profe by ensample, of the bounte & goodnes of women shewed by Lereano

TO thentent that lawdable vertue of y sex femenyn, shuld be declared accordyng to theyr desertes. I purpose to alledge certayne ensāples, howbeit my desyre was to haue restyde with this that I haue sayde to thentent that my ignorante and rude tonge shulde not haue troubled theyr clere bounte by [Page] reason of my vnwysedome: howbeit my prayse can not encrease theyr goodnes, nor my disprayse can not abate theyr, propertye, if I shuld make rehersall of the chast virgins tyme past and present I hadde nede to haue the deuyne reue­lasion, for therbe and haue ben so many that no humayne wytte can cōprehende them. And to be breue I shall shew of some as I haue redde, aswell crystened as gentyls & iewes. I wyl make ensample by the few, to cōprehende the vertue of the mo, as for suche as be auctorysed to be sayntes, I wyll not speke of them for .iii. causes. The fyrste bycause it is manyfeste, and openly knowen, then it were but symplenes & waste to reherce it. The .ii. cause is y chyrch gyueth them vnyuersall prayse. The .iii. bycause I ame not worthy to put in my rude wordes, theyr excellent goodnes, & specially of our blessed lady. All the doctours and deuoute contemplatyues, coulde neuer speke nor prayse her as she is worthy [Page] nor reche to the lest parte of her excellēt [...] wherfore I wyll come lower and declare of them that I may spek more liberally. I wyll begynne at the chaste gentiles, Lucresia chefe crowne of the nacion ro­mayne wyfe to Colatyne, knowynge her selfe enforsed & defowled by Traquyne, she sayde to her husband Colatyne, dere spouse, know for trouth that a strange man hath defowled thy bedde. Howbeit though my body be enforced, my harte is innocent, though I be fre fro the trespace, I can not be assoyled fro y e payne, and to thentent that no lady nor other woman hereafter by myne ensample shuld erre, and so with speking of those wordes with a sharpe sword she ryd her owne lyfe. Also Porcia who was doughter to the noble Catone and wyfe to the noble & vertuos Bruto, and when she knew the deth of her husband she tooke such greuous sorow, that to the ende of her lyfe, she dyd eate hote coles, to make sacrefice of her selfe. Penolope wyfe to [Page] Ulixes, she knowyng that he went in to warre agaynst the Troyans, knowyng that yonge men of Italy were sore ena­mored vpon her beautie, in the absence of her husband, dyuerce desyred to mary with her. And she desyrynge to kepe her chastitie, & to defende her selfe agaynst them, sayd how she wold make a webbe as ladies vsed in those dayes: & when it was finished, she promysed her wowers then to accomplish theyr desyres. And when she hadde graunted this, by her subtile wyt asmoche as she made in the day, she brake it agayn in y nyght. And by that meanes she draue of the seasone xx. yere, and then Ulixes came home alone olde & in greate pouertie, yet the chast lady receued hym ad though he hadde come in greate prosperytie. Also Iulia doughter to Cesar fyrst enperour beinge wyfe to Pompeye she loued hym so entierly, that on a day she fyndynge his clothes bloudy, beleuynge that he hadde bene dede fell sodenly to the erth [...] [Page] [...] [Page] [Page] and dyed for sorow. Atrenisa amonge other mortayll creatures worthy to be praysed, she beinge maried to Mansall kynge of Icaria she loued hym with so ferme a harte that when he was dede, she gaue hym sepulture, within her owne brest, she brente his bones, and y e asshes of them she dranke litle and litle, and the seremonies made of his obsequy thinkinge that she wold go to hym, slew her selfe with her owne handes. Argea doughter to kynge Adastro and wyfe to Polymytes sonne to Egisto kynge of Thebes, when Polimites was slaine in a batayll by the handes of his brother, she knowinge therof (withoute fearing of her enemyes, or of any other wylde bestes, nor fearynge the emperous law) wente oute of Athenes in the nyght in to the felde, and found oute amonge the dede bodies her husbandes body, and caryed it in to the citie, and caused it to be brent accordyng to the custome with bytter wepynge, puttynge the asshes in [Page] to a cofer of golde, and then promysed her lyfe to perpetuall chastite. Ipola of Grece saylynge by thy see, by her euyll fortune she was taken by her enemyes, and they wolde haue enforsed her, and she to conserue her chastite, went to the one side of the shyp, and wyllyngly fell ouer the boorde in to the see, and there was drowned. Howbeit the fame of her dead was not greatly laudable. No lesse worthy of prayse was the wyfe of Ame­de kynge of Thesale, she knoweng by y aunswere of the god Apollo, that her hu [...]bnad shulde receyue the deth, with­oute voluntaryly some other personne wolde dye for hym, and so wyllyngly to saue the kynge, she disposed her selfe to dye. Now of the naciō of the Iues. Sara wyfe of father Abraham, when she was taken, and in the power of kynge Pharao, defendynge her chastitie with the armes of prayer, desyred god to delyuer her oute of his handes. And when the kyng thought to haue fulfylled his [Page] enyll dead, god heryng her petecion, the kynge waxyde seke, in suche wyse that then he knew well it was for his wantō desyre. Then he commaydyd to delyuer her quyte w toute any spotte of vnclen­nis. Delbora enduyd with so many ver­tues, deseruyd to haue the spirite of pro­phesye, she shewyd not alonely her voūte in artes femenyne, but also in stronge batayles feyghtynge agaynste her e [...]emyes with a valyante and a vertuous harte. And she was of suche excellence that .xl. yere she rulyd the people of the iues. Hestere brought in captyuyte in to Babilone for her vertue & fayernes she was takē to wyfe to kyng Assuara who at that tyme rulyd a .C.xxvii. prouynces And by her merites & prayers delyuered the iues, fro theyr captyuyte. Also the mother of Sampson desyrynge to haue a sonne, deseruyd by her vertue that an angell shewyde the natyuyte of Sampsone, Elisabeth wyfe to Sacarias, as she was the very seruant of god, for her [Page] deseruynge she had a sonne sanctified or he was borne which was saynte Iohn. Now of olde stories of cristen women, I can not wryte them at lenght: but to be breue to shew some of a latter tyme of the nacion of Castile. Don Marya Coronell by whome beganne y lynage of the Coronelles, bycause her chastite was praysede and her bountie not hyd, she was accusyde of a cryme, wherfore wyllyngly, she brente her selfe hauyng lesse feare of the deth then to be founde culpable. Also Done Isabell mother to the mayster of the order of Calatrane. Done Rodigo and mother to .ii. erles, of Urema. Done Alonso & Don Iohn, she beyng a widowe fell in to a sikenes, and the phisycions to procure her helth sayd how she coulde not lyue withoute she maryed, or had the company of man then her chyldren knowynge what case she was in, desyryd and counsayled her to take an husbande, she aunswerd and sayd, by the grace of god that shall I [Page] neuer do for I had rather dye, to be cal­led mother to suche chyldren as ye be, then to lyue and to be called wyfe to another husband. And with this chaste consyderacyon, and by the pleasoure of god, when she dyed, ther were mysteries sene of her saluacion. Also Don Maria gracia the blessed woman borne in Tolledo of the gretest lynage in all the citie, she wolde neuer mary, kepynge her vyrginite .iiii. score yere, at whose deth were sene dyuerce myracles, the whiche yet in Tolledo be had in perpetuall remembrance. O what may a man say of the pure vyrgyns of gentiles. Atrisalya Sybela borne in the citie of Babilone for her merites she prophesied by diuyne reuelacion many thinges to come after always conseruinge her vyrginytie tyll she dyed. Pallas & Mynerua fyrst sene about the ryuer of Tritonia, newe inuē ters of many offices perteynynge to the femynyne sex, and also to men, alwayes lyuyng as vyrgins. And so ended Ata­lanta [Page] she that fyrst strake the porke of Calydonia, in virgynite and noblenes she cōtynuyd. Canulla doughter to Macabeo kyng of y e Bostos, she dyd no lesse then other dyd in kepyng of her virgy­nite. Calādea, Uesta, Clodya, Romayne they kepte the same law till theyr dethe. yf it were not to length my trouble yf I shuld lyue this M. yere, I coulde not resite the ensāples, that I could reherce: therfore Tesio accordyng as thou haste harde, thou and suche other as do blas­pheme the nature femenyne, are well worthy of iuste punysion, the which I counsaill the not to abide to receyue it of a nother, but rather punyshe thy selfe yf thou do it of malyce condemne the shame therof.

¶The auctor.

ALl suche as were present had great maruayll of his wordes seynge by his spekynge to be so nere the deth as he was for when he had ended his wordes, his tonge began to fayll, and [Page] his syght nere lost, then his seruauntes began to crye, and wayle, and his frend begane to wepe, and his subiectes cry­ynge oute in the streates so that all ioy was turned to sorow, and the lady his mother beynge absente, for his sekenes was kept fro her knowledge, howbeit she gyuynge more credyte to her feare, then to that was shewyd her with bold­nes of maternall loue, she deperted fro her owne howse and came to Susa, and when she entered the gate euery persone that she saw gaue her euydence of do­lour with wordes of extreme passyon, rather then with wordes well ordered, she herynge how her sone Lereano was in the extremyties of deth, her strenght fayled her so that she fell downe to the erth in a trance, & so longe she laye that euery man thought that y mother and the sonne shulde take theyr sepulture at one tyme: howbeit with harde remedy she came agayne to her selfe, and then went to her sone and when she saw hym [Page] in that astate, with greate wepynge and passyon of deth she sayd as folowith.

¶The complaynte of Lereanos mother.

O Lereano, the myrth, comforte, rest and supporte of myne olde dayes O swete companyon to my wyll, this day I ame lyke to leue callyng the any more sonne, nor thou to call me mo­ther, of this I haue greate feare by the sygnes that I se of thy shorte dayes, of­ten tymes I hadde suche dremes, where with I haue bene in greate feare all the nyght durynge, other tymes, when I haue ben in my oratory, prayng for thy helth my harte hath faylede me, and a colde sweat hath taken me in suche ma­ner, that of along tyme I wyst not what to do, also y e bes [...]es haue cretified me of thyne euyll, for on a day as I came out of my chamber ther came to me a dogge and made sodenly suche a howlyng that for feare ther of, I lost the strength of my body, and could not speke, nor could [Page] not remoue oute of the place that I was in. And therby I gaue more credence to my suspecte, then to thy messengers, and to satysfie my selfe, I ame come to se the. O the lyght of my syghte and lyfe. O blyndnes of the same if I se y dye & I can se none occasiō of thy deth, y u beyng in age to lyue, y u hast alwayes ben fearefull of god, & louer of all vertues, and enemye to all vyces, frēde to frēdes and belouyde, thynke for certane, this day y force of thyne euyll fortune takith away the ryght of reasō, syn thou dyest or thy tyme, withoute any infyrmytie. Happy be they, that be of low and base cōdiciō, and rude of wytte for they feale no thynge, but take euery thynge as it comyth. And vnhappy be they that by subtyll wytte and sharpe vnderstādyng know euery thynge. wolde to god thou werte one of the rude and dull, for I had rather to be callyd mother to a rude persone hauynge thy lyfe, then to haue thy deth, beyng neuer so wyse. O cruell deth [Page] enemy to all mortal creatures thou wilt perdone no synners, nor a [...]soyll the innocentes, thou arte suche a traytour, that no man can make defence agaynst the, thou thretenyst age, and takest awaye yough: the one thou sleyste by malyce, and y e other for enuy, though thou tary longe, yet thou wylte not forget to come at laste, thou gouernyst thy selfe with oute law or reasone, it had ben better for the to haue cōseruyd my sonne beyng of xx. yeres rather then to leue me his mo­ther of .lxx. yeres of age, why doste thou turne y e ryght vpse down. I haue lyued longe inough, and he is yong yet for to lyue: perdon me y t I thus say to the, for thou by thy cruell warkes causyste do­lours, yet agayne thou gyuist comforte takyng away them shortely, that thou leuist behynde them, that thou takest away: for the which, yf thou wylte so do with me I were moche boūd to the, that I myght go with my sonne Lereano, but yf he myght lyue, and I to dye, it [Page] shulde be my comeforte. O sone what shall become of my age remēbryng the ende of thy yough, yf I lyue it shalbe rather to wepe and bewayll my synnes, then by reasone to haue any wyll or de­syre to lyue with what thyng coulde I receyue more cruell payne, then to lyue long, thyne euyll is very great, that ther canne be found no remedye, what auay lyth now the strength of thy body, or the vertue of thyne harte, or the hardy­nes of thy corage, all these thynges that shulde auayll y e faylythe, yf for the price of loue, thy lyfe myght be bought, I wolde desyre deth to do his offyce vpon me, and to delyuer the quyte fro hym, but thy fortune wyll not suffer it, nor I cā not therfore sorow shalbe my drynke and my mete, and my thought my slepe vntyll the tyme that the force of dethe, and my desyre shall brynge me to my sepulture.

¶The auctor.

[Page]THe wepyng that Lereanos mother made, encreasyde the payne of all them that were presente, and all wayes Lereano had Laureola in his remembrance, of that was past he had but small memory, and cōsyderyng that he shulde ioy but a shorte space with the syght of the .ii. letters that Laureola hadde sente hym, he wiste not how to order them, when he thought to breke them, he thought he shuld offende ther by Laureola, in castynge away suche wordes of so worthy price as was wrytē in them, and when he thought to put in to any of his seruaūtes hādes, he fearyd leste they shulde be se [...]e, wherby perell myght folow, then in all these doubtes he toke the sureste way, he callyd for a cup of water, and then brake the lettres in to small peces, and so sette vp in his bed, and dranke vp the water with the peces of the letters, and so he satisfyde therby his wyll and then drawynge to his ende warde, he cast his syght vpon [Page] me & sayde, frēde now all myne euylles be endyd [...] and therwith gaue vp his lyfe in witnes of his true fayth. Then what sorow I felte, and what I dyd is lyghtly iudged, the wepynges that was there made of his deth, are of suche esteme, that me thynke it cruelty to wryte it: thē his obsequyes and buryals were done most honourably, accordyng to the de­serdes of his vertues, & as for my selfe, with a better wyll I wolde haue deper­tyd this lyfe, then to haue taryed on the yerth alyue: so with sighes I went my way, and depertyd wyth wepyng, and with lamentacion I sore complaynyde, and with suche thoughtes I wente to my lodgynge. And when I saw that the consentynge and desirynge of my deth could not remedy hym that was passyd, nor could be no comforte to my selfe, thē I determyned to deperte, and to go in to myne owne countrey, and yet fyrst I purposed to go to the courte to here and se what was sayd for y e deth of Lereano [Page] and to se how Laureola toke the mater: Thus I thought to go thyther, what for this cause, & for other busynes that I had ther to do with some of my frēdes also I purposyd to speke with Laureola if I myght, to know if I myght se in her any repentance, and to se what true lo­uers wolde say of her crueltye vsyde against hym, that deseruyd hygh reward And also I was glad to deperte fro the place wher as Lereano dyed to put par­te of my sorow out of my mynde. So I came to the courte more accompanyed with sorow, then with any desire to lyue remembryng how he that made me begynne this mater, was in his sepulture. At the palayce I was receyuyde with moche heuynes of many that knew the deth of Lereano, then I resyted to suche as were his frende, the secretenes of his deth Then I went in to y e hall, where I was acustumed to speke with Laureola to se if I myght se what chere she made. And I who by reasone of sore wepynge [Page] had nere lost my syght, I lokyd all a­boute [...] but I culde not se her, yet when she saw me [...] lyke a dyscrete ladye suspec­tynge that I wolde haue spoken with her wenynge that I hadde not seen her she tur [...]ed towarde her chambre and as she came by me. I spied well it was she, who hadde brought Lereano fro his lyfe & me almoste withoute knowledge then I with sore wepynge and payneful sighes began to speke to her in this maner.

¶The auctor to Laureola.

LAdy moche more it hadde bene bet­ter for me to haue lost my lyfe, then to haue know [...]n your cruelnes and small pytie, I say this bycause I had rather with reason ha [...]e praysed your gentlenes, with [...]einge you to haue satisfied the se [...]uyce that hath bene done to you by Lereano, then to prayse your beautie & great deseruynge gyuyuge dethe to hym that so often tymes with so good will to do you seruyce hath desyred to dye, but syn your mynde was to [Page] gyue hym the deth, ye haue not begyled hym nor me, for ye haue payed hym ther with, ye haue bleryd the clennes of your lynage. Remembre that suche as be of so hygh blud as ye be, are asmoch boūd to satisfy the lest seruyce that is done to them, aswel as to kepe and defend theyr honour. And certaynly I say that if ye had sene his deth, all the dayes of your lyfe, ye wolde wepe. Remembre now what charge of conscience ye brought hym in, for when he died where as he shulde haue had most memory vpon hys sowle, and what shuld haue ben done with his body, he then remembred more the letters that ye had sent hym, the whiche he toke and tare in peces, & drank them in water because they shuld neuer be sene, and bycause he wold cary with gym some thynge that had bene yours, to the entent that ye shulde haue more compassiō of his deth then ye had of his lyfe. I shew you for certayne thus I saw hym dye, bycause ye shewyd hym [Page] no compassion Now ye shew your selfe to be sory that in the absence of your small loue was clene forgoten. O how many now do wepe for his deth, and yet they know not the cause. But as to me (fro whom the secretnes was not hiden) then moche more it muste nedes greue me, remembrynge, how in your handes restyd his lyfe, and seynge your crueltie and his small remedy, ye caused hym to dye & cause his mother to lyue in sorow bycause she can not dye, and as for me lyuynge, I ame alwayes dyeng: and I beleue ye couytte not gretly your owne lyfe, to remembre what ye haue done, but that ye know well there be but few persons that know what ye haue done. I thynke ye feare but litle the fame of your euyll name, for ye se clerely how I ame lyke to dye, therfore ye feare not y t I shuld publishe youe crueltie, thynke not that I ame in feare to say thus to you, for yf I trouble you with the qualitie, content you then with the quantite, [Page] syn I haue so greate reason to speake, and not to ende properly, and for this my boldenes [...] yf I deserue any punyshement, cause me to be slain, for ye shal better reward me with deth, then to suffre me to lyue in this case.

¶The auctor.

Sore troubelyd stode Laureola, yet for all that euery I sayd, her face shewyd no alterasion of her hart, howbeit lyke a discret lady, refreynynge wepynge dissimuled her sorow, and not blamyuge my boldenes with an heuy chere she aunswered me as foloweth.

¶Laureola to the auctor.

I wolde I had asmoche wisdome to satisfye the, as I haue reasone to discharge my selfe, and yf it were so thou shuldest fynd me aswel discharged as I repute the dylygent. Thou sayest thou woldest thou haddest asmoche case to prayse my pytye, as thou hast cause to blame my crueltie, and on that condicion y desyryst no lenger to lyue: thon [Page] blamyst me sayng how I thought to sle Lereano, and that begylyde hym, and weryde the. I wolde thou knewyste I neuer thought to gyue hym the deth, for doyng as thou sayst, what is it that I haue done, I neuer brake any promise what do I owe the or hym, that thou dyddest trawayll for: or what dyde I to satisfye thyne entensiō, I dyde put hym without doubte, and the w toute charge, if I had ben beleuyd, then myne is but a small charge: thou saist I ought to re­garde the clennes of my lynage, lokyng profoundly theron, hath causyde me to do as I haue done, thou knowyst well, all women are more bounde to regarde theyr honors, rather thē to accomplysh any amorous wyll or appetight. Then syn all women are bounde to this how moche more then by reasone, are those boūde that be dyscedyd of a blude roiall thynk not that I receyue any pleasure for the deth of Lereano, nor beleue not that it cā somoch greue y , as it sorowith [Page] me how be it the feare of my honour, & the feare of my father dyd more in me, then the euyll wyll that I bare hym, nor thynke not that the knowledge of his seruice, was forgoten, but that I gaue hym great thank, and yf w t any reward I myght haue payed hym, sauynge my honour, it shuld haue ben done, and cost hym nothyng then both he and thy selfe shulde asmoche haue praysede as now thou blamyste me for vnkyndnes in his lyfe without the losse of lyfe I could not rewarde hym accordyng to his desire, I wyll thou know, that his deth causith me to lyue alwayes dyenge, now shalte thou se how moche it sorowith me and how moche he pleasyde me, now thou shalt iudge what loue I bare hym, and know yf I dyd well to suffer hym to dye thou knowist well that with his lyfe he myght haue wonne, that by his deth he dysparyd and lost it, but syn I can not now paye nor rewarde hym, I shall sa­tisfye the & make the bere witnes, yf I [Page] rewarde not seruice as I ought to do.

¶The auctor.

SHe endyd her wordes with suche heuynes, that she coulde scante make an ende for sorow: then she went fro me subbyng, and sore wepyng wherby her tonge was sore troubelyd, & chaunged colour, and so went in to her chamber with sore inwarde lamen [...]aciō, for feare she shuld haue ben hard. Then I wēt to my lodgyng w t so great sorow that often tymes I was desperate of my lyfe, with myne owne deth I wold haue ben reuengyd if I coulde, not puttynge my selfe in dyspayre. And thus beynge alone withoute pleasure aswell as with oute frendes to speke vnto, for werynes I layd me downe, and as though I had sene Lereano before me presente, I sayd to hym as folowith.

¶The auctor to Lereano.

O Lereano enemye to thy aduēture, and frende to thy myshape, who can be cause of thy lyfe with this [Page] ambassade, as I was cause of thy deth w t my message, for now if thou knewyst the repentance of Laureola, thou wol­dest change the glory celostyall, for thy lyfe temporal: for by thy deth, thou hast lost thy desyre, if thou haddest sauyd thy lyfe without doubte, thou shuldest haue wonne, that by thy deth thou hast lost. Dyd I nat say to the, when thou lay a dyenge, that by thy deth thou shuldest lese all, and by thy lyfe thou myghtest attayne to thy desyre. O vnhappy y t I am, y t I were not in y place where as I myght shew the all that Laureola hath sayd to me, and of the thought that she tak [...]th for lesynge of thy lyfe, though w t the deth thou hast wonne the desire of thy will, by that she shewith now, thou oughtest to thynke thy deth well besto­wyd, great ioy I shuld recene, if I knew that thou dyddeste here me and beleue m [...]: for thou maist se that alonely her re­pentance suffy seth to pay y thy reward. yf thou haddeste lyuyde, thou shuldeste [Page] haue had no cause to haue bē in trouble now thy payne shalbe withoute hope of sufferance, now thou nediste not to be troubly with thy lyfe, nor take no ioy of thy deth. O what welth shuld it be for me, if god wold suffer me to lese my lyfe to recouer thyne, why doth god leue me here without the. who can lese the, and lyue after, wold to god, that the good will that I haue in thy lyfe that thou myghtest pay me with my deth y t which I hope thou shuldest do, if thou haddest as good wyll to se me, as I haue desire to serue y e. Thus I wyll leue, any fur­ther to trouble the.

¶The auctors dreme.

THus I was so wery that I left my talkynge, and as he that wyst not what he dyd, I fell in a slombere and amonge other thynges I beganne to dreme, wherby I had more payn then pleasure. I drempt that I saw Lereano before me aparelled after this maner, he had on his hedde a bonet of scarlet with [Page] a grene ryband of an euyll colour, with a worde enbrowdered saieng thus: hope is dead with his colour slayne by your vnkyndnes, and when he came nere me, I sawe he had on a shyrte wrought with blak sylke with a border of letters, sayenge: encreasyng my stedfastnes, at the ende I found deth. Also he had a doblet of yeolow saten enbrowdered with this worde: my passion with my ioye satis­fied, in doynge that I haue done. Also he had on a iaket of blake veluyt with a border of saten of the same colour, and theron a wrytynge that sayd: in my stedfastnes shewed is myne euyll, and your trespace. Also he had a gerdell of golde with letters reportynge: more rather was my dethe, then lyfe, if ye wolde be seruyd therwith. He had also a dager, y knyues and pomell of asure, w t letters sayeng, ryght sore was the passion that ye gaue me, and yet ye neuer repentyde it. Also he had a sworde with the sheth & gyrdell of sylke enbrowderyde w t this [Page] worde (gyuyn to my lyfe such torment) that diyng and lyuyng I was content. Also his hosen one white a nother blew w t this word: chastite ielus of my lyfe & could not be sufferyd to serue. And ouer all this he had a cappe of blacke enbrowderyd with darke tawny with a worde that sayd: heuynes can not so trauayll me, that it shulde chāge my stedfastnes. His slippers were enbrowdered w t smal letters that sayde: myne euyls are at an ende for my seruyce, and denyed me is the benyfyte. And on his gloues was writen: thus begynnyth and endeth the name that most deseruyth. So when I had at length regarded his aparell, and the stedfaste thoughtes that by lykely­hod he enduryd, I behelde his face, and I saw his iesture so beautefull that it semed he had neuer taken thought, and with an amorous semblant. After he had curtesly salutyd me with the same voyce, as he was wonte to speke, me thought he began to say in this maner.

¶Lereano to the auctor.

O Thou my true frende, thou hast thought that my presence hath bene longe fro the so that I could not tell what y u dyddest nor hard what thou hast spoken, thynke not so, for I shall neuer be so farre fro the, but that I shall alwayes be ioyned with the, for though by aduenture in my lyfe I deperted fro the, neuer in the deth I shall de­perte fro the, I shall alwayes be ionyed with the. And all that thou hast sayd of Laureola and of me I was present and hard it, god knowith if I myght I wold haue spoken to the, but I could not, nor feare wold not leue me, for I certifie the that this that I do, though my speche be short, yet it tormenteth me, and ther­fore acordynge to the trust that I haue in thy great vertue I wyll not put the to the payne with long wordes therfore I wyll goo to the effect of thy wordes and to my aunswere. Thou sayest thou woldest gladly put me agayne in to life [Page] as thou puttedest me to deth, beleue nat that thy message gaue me the deth, nor I in the begynnynge can not be excused fro coming to this ende: thou sayst thou woldest that I were in the dysposicion that I myght ioy me for the repentynge of Loureola. I can not thanke the ther­fore, bycause I can not make y a recompence, for the gretest seriuce that I could make is not so greate, but the lest deser­uynge that I huae receyued of the is moche gretter. As for her rewardes I desyre them not, for I can haue as now no ioye of them, though I desyre them neuer somoche, and though now with her repentynge she thynk to satysfie me yet her cruelnes was so trobelous, that though she dyd more, yet I can not be rewardyd. Thou sayst I shuld thynke my dethe well enployede, syn I haue wonne by her that without her I lost, now wold I do it, if lyfe were lefte with me, for though I myght ioy therwith what profyt shuld it be to me to beleue [Page] this without I myght se what she doth, and I beleue if she myght se me agayne to lyue, she wolde gyue me more payne and lesse hope, but the best to be delyue­ryd fro hope is deth, for it is better to suffer a good deth, then to endure with an euyll lyfe, beleue not but and I had beleuyd that I shuld haue seruyd her, better lyuyng then to dye, I wold not haue dyed yet, but syn that with my lyfe I could not preuayll, I thought then with deth to remedy me, thynke not that I was so farre withoute wytte, that I knew not that it was good to lyue to serue her, though I coulde haue no ioy of her, but I could neuer know by her aū ­swere, that she was cōtēt w t my seruyce as y u knowist ryght well, but she dyd let me dye, for I desiryd lyfe to leue me, also y u seist that y u desirest to recouer me & to lese thy lyfe, I beleue y , and I thāke y therof, though I cā do none other thyng y u desirist me to pray for thy deth, bycause we myght lyke frendes ioy to gether [Page] syn we could not in our lyfe be not of y beleue for I had rather her spekynge of thy lyfe withoute syght of the, then to know thou shuldest be with me dede, howbeit by thy deth thou shuldest but change thy lyfe, for thy fame shuld ne­uer dye but euer lyue, thus I wyll leue the, not bicause I wyll go farre fro the. wherfore I requyre the take it for none euyll that I speke no more to the, for though I wolde I can not.

¶ The auctor.

WHen Lereano had made an ende of his wordes I thought to haue aunswerd hym, but then in my dreme me thought I saw Laureola entre into my chambre as vysyble, as though I had bene wakyng me thought she was in a strange aparel, and with a new companyon, and in y e regardynge of so new a vision I left aunswerynge Lereano, and began to marke the maner of her aparell [...] and I so regarded her [...] that I left lokyng vpon Lereano. She hadde [Page] vpō her hed a fresh atyer frete & enbrowdered with letters sayeng: my cruel condicion gyueth no deth to seruyce, nor yet rewarde. Her smocke wrought with whyte sylke tyed with letters sayeng: thy deth is so fastened to my lyfe that I can not scape without deth. Her kertell of blacke saten with a folyage of tawny w t letters sayeng: thy stedfastnes myght haue gyuen me suche payne, that at the ende it myght haue wonne me. Her gyr­dell was wrought with thredes of gold reportynge: More rather shulde haue bene my glory with thy lyfe, then with thy deth. Her mantel was of .ii. colours the one parte red, the other blew, with a wrytynge that sayde: now ioye can not enioye me without great thought. She had a tabard of blew russet with letters sayeng, with thy deth my memory is certayne so that lyuynge my glory is dede. Also on her gloues was wryten thus, with that I began I make an ende though I deserue no deth: her slyppers [Page] were enbrowdered with this word: I haue more payne for thy payne then for myne own, yet more deserueth my sha­me. So when I had well regarded her aparell, and marked well the sygnifica­cions of the wrytynges, I saw how w t moche sorow and smal pleasure (by semblant more lykely to dye then to lyue) she turned her face towardes Lereano wher as he stode and began to say in this maner.

¶Laureola to Lereano.

FRende Lereano neuer thynke that the force of thy strenght for so litle an incōuenience, that I shuld consent to lose, for as thou hast sayd to be desyrous to serue me, more honour y u shuldest haue done me in lyuynge, then I to gyue y deth, for surely thy wekenes nor thy payne, nor yet thy loue coulde not make me beleue, that thou shuldest haue died, therfore thou maist clerely se what euyll thou hast done, yf y u thynk, that I dyd was to mocke the or to proue [Page] the, what errour then I haue done to thy purpose, yf true louers cane not suf­fre, how shall they come to theyr desyrs he that can not suffre, can not ioy, nor but seldome attayne to his glory, there is no vertue, but in sufferynge of payne therby to haue ioye of theyr good aduenture, thou oughtest more to be blamed, beynge discrete for that thou hast done, then to be praysed for a trew louer. And beleue surely that yf I had not ben surer of thy fayth I wolde haue gyuen no credence to thy stedfastnes nor yet haue gyuen the none occasion at the begyn­nynge to haue come to this ende, and more to shew the, the trouth [...] then to re­warde the of thy payne, I make the sure yf I had beleued that y u shuldest haue died I wold rather haue taken the deth my selfe [...] then to haue consented to thy deth, for it shuld haue bene greate con­science to me to haue sffuered the to dye, for the trust that I had, in that thou dydest for my seruyce caused me in ma­ner [Page] to beleue thy wrytynge, but then agayne the suretie y t I thought had ben in thy wysdome and dyscrecion, caused me to doubte it, and in this maner I gaue more credence to thy discrecion, then to thy determyned deth, Lereano it ought to haue suffysid the to remēber in what case myne honour stode in and perell of my lyfe, and to haue ben cōtent to know that I ought the my fauour, for thy euyll greuyd me worse, thē myne owne, though I shewyd it not to the, if thou wylte denye this, remember what I was, and how small necessite I had of thy seruice, ones writyng to the shuld haue sufficyd, though I dyd not put the in no suretie for thou knewist well, that my wrytyng procedyd of no feare, but of myne owne good wyll, & thou canste not denye, whan of my message, thou dyddeste dispaire and dyed, dyd I not put the in hope when I sayde, that if I lyuyd lenger then my father, then shul­dest se how I wold rewarde thy deser­uyng, so that thou shuldeste not blame [Page] me for any vnkindnes, I will speke no more syn I shall no more se the, and by cause I can receyue no more passiō then I do for thy deth, therfore I make short my wordes, though my payne be large makynge the sure, I shall rewarde thy sowle, syn by myne vnhap, by reasone of thy deth I can not rewarde thy body.

¶The auctor.

WHen Laureola spake these wordes to Lereano I stode in a strange maner ryght sore abasshyde to se her greate pite and ioynynge her wysdome and knowyng her wyll, and heryng of her amorous reasones, these ouer came my strength, though she spake not to me, yet I praysede moche her sayeng, though it auaylyd but lytle, howe be it me thought her reasones were so iust y Lereano coulde make none aunswere, to satisfye them, not for the small cōfy­dence that I hadde in his wis [...]ome, but bycause of the trouble of his spirytes in seynge present before hym the creature [Page] whome he most desiryd, yet me thought he cast vp his eyen to heuyn, and with great curtesye he aunswere her in this maner.

¶Lereano to Laureola.

O Dere lady yf I had the wisdome to shew you the case and quarell of myne euyll, aswell as I haue reasone to suffer it, I coulde then aswell aunswere you as if I myght lyue to serue you, ye say, ye coulde neuer beleue y t the force of my dethe coulde ouercome my strength: Haue no meruayl thereof, for without my desyre I coulde fynde no thyng to defende me, but of that ye blame me, ye deserue the payne, for ye myght haue gyuyn me remedy, & ye cō ­sentyd that I shuld dye. And where as ye say I erred, bycause I wold not defēd my selfe affermynge that I shuld haue sought all the wayes therto, yf ye dyd it to proue or to mocke me, iudge what ye say, and beholde what case I was in, & ye shall say that a harte full of sorowe [Page] neuer takyth good newes: for certayne and of euyll newes it makith no doubte and all this that ye haue sayd, I beleue it trew, of your owne parte knowyng your great cruelte and my small hap thynke not that the small trauayll that I toke was in defēdyng of my lyfe, but that it was to serue you, for it had ben more payne for me to haue defēdyd my selfe fro the dethe, then to suffre it, remē brynge my selfe that I had no desire to lyue, but alonely to serue you, and when I [...]aw that I erryde and that ye wolde not of my seruice lyuyng, thē I thought to serue you with my deth, and thynke not y t I ioy so litle of my deth, but that I thynke it well enployed, syn ye haue now discoueryd your pitie, the which in my lyfe allwayes ye denyed, ye say the hope that ye gaue me shuld haue suffi­syd me, I denye it not accordyng to y ye be, for one loke of you had ben sufficient for any seruice that I could haue done, for where as the lesse hope aperyd [Page] certayne, then moche more was your deseruyng, and of my deseruyng I was in doubte: for the gre [...]ter that y reward was, the lesse I beleuyd it, and therfore I dyd as ye haue seen, And where as ye speke of, is honour and lyfe, ye know well for certayne, if ye forgette it not what small charge it was to you, and the experiēce which geemd me ye know your selfe, y e warkes are witnes, Also ye say that at the begynnynge ye were w t ­oute any charge, and after what perell I saw you in, and that I was redy to haue gyuen occasion to haue brought you in to suspect. I begyled you not, for afterwarde I shewed your clennes ye neuer sayde in your wrytynge any thyng for certayne, but alwayes I was in doubt of any rewarde, and the lesse I [...]o [...]yd the more I feared, and thus ye may se that by your owne excuse, ye condempe your selfe, and syn I can not serue you, I will not trouble you, nor speke no more, saue I desire of you in [Page] rewarde of my true faith, to let me kysse your hand, bycause with that glory, I may ioy in my deth, seyng I co [...]ld not in my lyfe, nor ye wolde not suffer me, and thus I wyll deperte fro you, bese­chyng you as ye saye to haue remēbrāce of my sowle, syn ye haue forgoten my body, nor I desire no more to trouble you, nor to be inportunate with any mo wordes, thus I make an ende, de­sirynge you of perdone, & if any thynge may presume to auayll for the ryches of my seruice, that ye wyll remember my trouth and good wyl, the which I set [...]e before your eyen, to thentent that of my deth ye shulde haue some compassion, syn ye had none of my lyfe.

¶The auctor.

WHen this mater was thus passed betwene them I stode and behelde the curtesy that Lereano made and the small thought that he shewed of his deth for then he knowyng, that she was no lesse sorowfull for his deth then hym [Page] selfe was, therfore to thentent not to trouble her, he sufferyd the payne, and wolde speke no more of his deth, and as­moche as it pleased me to se them to ge­ther, asmoche it greued me the remem­brance of the deth of Lereano, and accordynge to ther reasones, they ioyed me so that I wolde theyr reasons shulde neur haue endyd, for then I knew well that Lereano receyued glory to se her, and Laureola receyued no payne to se hym, though he were dede I desyre that theyr speche shuld neuer haue endyd, nor theyr [...]yght depertyd a sounder, but alwayes the thynges of pleasour, seldome end [...] rith longe. And as I thus lay dremyng at last me thought I harde a heuy voice that said, come away Lereano and tary no longer. And then w t adolorous sygh Lereano with his bonet in his hād wēt to Laureola, and kyst her hand, and she to gyue hym some glory sufferyde hym the which in his lyfe tyme she wold ne­uer do, and so kyssyng her hand he sayd [Page] O y deth y u hast slayne my memory yet to my deth is giuē glory [...] & therw t he vanished away. And whē I saw I could se hym no more, thē I regarded Laureola to se what cōtenāce she made, I saw her stād in greate heuynes, her eyen bathed in water, & her beautie [...]adyd of colour pale and wanne, and had lost her spech, and I seynge her in suche maner of disposicion, hadde compassiō to se her, then Lereano that was dede what with the syght of the one, and of the other, was in suche perell, and so disperate, that to say the truth, I desyred rather to haue folowed Lereano dede, then to haue fo­lowyd Laureola lyuynge, who with great heuynes, asmoche as she myght, dyssimuled her payne that she enduryd for the deth of Lereano, & discretly she dyd refrayne her wepynge and sayd to me as folowith.

¶ Laureola to the auctor [...]

FRende truely with a better harte and wyll I wyll contynew this [Page] lyfe, rather thenne to goo oute of thy chamber without it were [...] that I beleue in my goynge away, my sowle shall de­parte, for surly, yf I had beleued to haue sene Lereano i that case, as I haue sene hym now I wolde neuer haue come hi­ther to se hym, but rather haue suffered payne with his absence, then glory to se hym seinge I can not remedy hym, I had thought neuer to haue had suche payne for hym, for the more that the greatnes of astate withstode & denyed yet for all that, I thought to haue done the contrary, or my lyfe had departed, for with great trauayll, I thought to haue suyd to the kyng my father for his libertie it was not by my consent, that he was cōmaundyd, not to come in to y e courte, where as he myght haue place to haue sene me, yet for al y t he neded not to haue dyed for the tyme myght haue come y t he shulde haue hadde no cause to haue disparyd, for thought I by my crueltie had consentyd to haue put hym [Page] to passion, yet I myght aswell agayne haue rewarded hym by my bountie and pitie, as to haue denyed hym, I wyll as now make no quarell to my wyll, syn his seruyce & good warkes I thought to haue rewardyd, but I quarell with the bautie that god hath gyuen me, and so myght Lereano haue done: for that more begyled hym, then other condiciō or wyll: But bycause the tyme is short and the passion great, I wyll no more say but I make the sure, that thought Lereauo were not worthy of a state nor lynage, to haue had me to his wyfe [...] yet he shuld not haue bene in dispayre ther of, but syn I can not as now rewarde his warkes and good seruyce, I desyre the not to depart fro the courte, thouhg thy desyre be in to thyne owne natural countrey, & so doinge thou shalt know, by the rewardes that I shal gyue the, what honour I bare to Lereano lyuing

¶The auctor

[Page]WHen Laureola had endyd her wor­des she was so heuy, and so full of wepyng, y t in a maner hre payneful lyfe greuyde me as sore as the dethe of Lereano. And to all this that she hadde sayd I wolde haue aunswerde her, and thankyd her of her great bountie to me shewyd, aswell as for the curtesye of her meke speche. And so me thought as I was mouyd sodēly with a great sighe she depertyde fro me, and with a loude voyce sayd: I can no more sorow y e deth which is euer certeyne, then the losse of the lyfe of hym that is dede: thē I lokyd all aboute, and saw how I was left all alone, and therwith awoke out of my dreme, then was I so sorowfull, that I wist not what to do, nor thynke of my dreme, and when I saw no man to speke vnto, I was so pēsyue that oftē tymes with myne owne handes I thought to haue ryde my lyfe [...] therby thynkynge to haue founde that I had lost, and when I remembryd that with my deth I could [Page] not recouer the lyfe of the dede, then I thought it a great errour to lese myne own sowle w tout the ioyeng of his body And as it is a sure xeperiēce that musyk encreasith payne to hym y t is in sorow, so lyke wyse it encreasith pleasur in the harte of them that be contente and in ioye, then I toke an harpe and songe as folowith. Harte take no payne in this lyfe for it may be ouercome, for it canne not endure longe bicause we be mortall the euyll that shewith her force, is redy to take the deth, synne that lyfe is most euyll, thē I coūsayl the shew no strēgth against y e ouercome, for who that sleith the lyfe, with deth is pleasyd, therfore that lyfe is good, that takith deth after the best sorte, he that dyeth lyuyng hath not moche to suffre, but he that lyueth dyenge his euyll & payne is stronge, who can not suffre euyll, when they be satisfyed with euyll, and though they be mortall, yet the sorow is equall, thus I make an ende of my songe, and then [Page] without any more studyng that I had to do. I cōmaunded to sadell my horse for I thought it was tyme for me to deperte to go in to my owne country, And thus I departed fro them that I mette in the streate more acompaned w t sorow and wepynge yes then with any other consolasion of pleasoure my he­uynes so encreased, and my helth so payred that I neuer thought to come a lyue in to my countrey, & when I was well entered on my way there came so many thynges to my fantasye, that thynkyng on them I was nere oute of my witte, howbeit at last remembrynge my selfe that it was no profyt to muse on them I traueled my self asmoch as I myght to brynge them out of my remembrance So I traueled my body in this yourney and my sowle in sundry thoughtes, and fynally I arryued at my owne poore mansion, and thus I bydde fare well & adew all true louers. And all y e readers an herers of this proces, desyryng them [Page] where they fynd faulte to amend it. and I shall pray to god for theyr prosperyte and at theyr ende to send them the ioyes of paradyce. Amen.

Finis.

¶Prynted at London in Pauls churcheyarde, by Iohan Turke, at the sygne of the byble.

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