The Lawes of Queene Aurelia.

FIrst, euerie Gentleman, and Gentlewoman, were con­iured faithfully to execute all the charges, and offices assigned by their Quéene Aurelia, and that they should be attendant of her pleasure.

[Page] Item euery Gentleman was bound, to serue some one Misterisse, befor the next day at noone, vppon paine, to bée turned into the great Hall, among the Countrie Trulles y ^e whole Christmas. And euery Gentlewoman y ^t had not a Seruant, was iudged vnworthye, to bee courted for one wéeke: for his merrit was holden very small, that coulde bee intertained of none, and her conditions very crooked that was beloued of none.

Item euery Gentleman, was bound to geue his owne Mistresse the honour of his seruise, and the chiefe place in his commendations, vppon paine, to lose her seruice, and to bée entertained of no other. For he that was dissoyall to one, coulde not be holden faithfull vnto an other.

Item euery Gentlewoman, was bounde to imploye her owne Seruaunt vppon paine to be reputed symple. For she that affyed not in her owne Seruant, had no rea­son to trust an others.

Item euery Gentleman was bound, to defende the ho­nor of his Misterisse, both with worde and sworde, vppon paine to be reputed a Coward, and not to were her gloue. For he was holden very vnsufficient, that prysed not his Misterisse honor aboue his owne lyfe.

Item eurey Gentlewoman was bound, to incouradge her Seruant with Good countenances, and vppon the exe­cution of any worthy seruice to rewarde him, with the kissing of her hand, vpon paine to be déemèd, vnworthy to be serued. For she of all the world is acounted to rigorous a Dame, that with scorne, receyueth dutifull seruice.

Item euery Gentleman was bounde to Court his mi­sterisse with Ciuill speaches, vpon paine to be forbiddē, to talke of loue for thrée daies. For he was accompted bace mannered, or verie grose witted, that coulde not pleasant­lye intertaine time with a ciuill discourse.

Item euery Gentleman was bound, either by some ex­ercise of value, or by some shew of excellency of wit, to ap­proue him selfe worthy of his Mistrisse: vpon paine, to be spoyled of his Armes, and the whole Christmas to attende [Page] with the Pages for he was holden vnworthy the societie of men, or the affection of women, that was neither vali­ant nor wise.

These Lawes proclaimed, Quéene Aurelia appoynted an elderly Courtier named Fabritio, and a well spoken Gentlewoman, called Donna Isabella, to be Iudges of the controuersyes, in disputation: and to attend her in her af­faires of pleasure, she chused Segnior Soranso, a Gentle­man Italion, of Wit quick and sharp, and for his deuices, swéete and pleasant: Don Dondolo, a Napolitan, haughtie and proude in his conceits. Monsier Bargetto a French­man, amourous and light headed. Doctor Mossenigo, a Germaine, so called, for the plaine discouerie of his mind. Segnior Faliero a Scot, subtill and cunnyng in his deuy­ces: Courtisie vn­to straungers, is a marke of Gentilytie. and my selfe Caualiero Ismarito, an English man, in whiche name heereafter, I will present those actions that touch my selfe.

This wise, choice she made to priueldge the Strangers with the hyest fauour.

Of Gentlewomen, she chused Maria Belochy, a Dam­sell whose eye was able to fire a mountaine of Ice. Lucia Bella, for fairenesse & swéete behauiour an Angel. Hellena Dulce, a louing and affable Gentlewoman. Franceschina sancta, so called for hir modest and lowlye countenance: Katherina Trista, a [...]owre and testy Dame: Aluisa Ve­chio, who although shee were in the wayne of her yéeres, yet was she in the pride of yong desires.

This done, Quéene Aurelia, by consent, deuided the ex­ercises of euery day, into these times: the forenoone to bée A diuision of their pleasurs bestowed in the seruice of God: after dinner, two houres to be intertained in ciuell discourse, and disputation: the rest till Supper at pleasure: and after supper to spende a time in daunsing, maskinge, or in other like pastimes as occasion presented.

The greater part of Christmas day, was spent in esta blishing these orders, the rest was ouercome in sol [...]pne Musick, for, among the better forte, that day is honoured, with no light mirth.

[Page] THe next daye by nine a Clocke, according to one of the charges in the Proclamation, you might sée the yong Gentlemen & Gentlewomen, coupled together lyke fowles on Saint Valentines day morninge.

But Cauiliero Ismarito, hauing the eyes of his hart sette­led vpon his Mistresse beautie, with carelesse regarde, be­helde the rest of the company: and leanyng by a dore, tho­row which she should passe, he awayghted Quéene Aure­lias comming. Who at her accustomed howre, presented her self with an aduauntage of brauerie, whom the whole trowpe reuerently saluted, and honorably accompanyed vnto the Chappell.

After Seruice, Dinner, and all were solempnlye en­ded: Queene Aurelia with a chosen company, retyred her selfe, into a pleasant drawing Chamber, to execute the re­ported Musick refre­sheth the wits ordenaunce. But to quicken the Spirites of the company, before they entred into discourse, she commaun­ded a faire Eunucke Boy, to singe some one songe, as hée thought good, who obaying her commaundement, with a heauenly note, vnto the Lute sunge this louyng Laye.

The swéet deliuerie of this sonet, so inchanted y ^e harts of y ^e hearers, as for a space, their sences gaue place to the contemplatiō of their soules. In the end, Madona Isabella by this motiō, made y ^e whole cōpany a passadge for spéech.

If Loue be so swéete a passion (quoth she) I muse from what cause procéedeth the complaintes of Louers, who w ^t showering teares, bedeweth the earth: with misty fights, dimmeth the aire, & w ^t shril outcries pearceth the heauens

The cause quoth Soranso, procéeds of our fleshly imper­fections, which corruptes y ^e nature of good things, & not of any defect in loue: for loue is a simple deuine vertue, and hath his being in y ^e soule, whose motions are heauenly. Loue simplye is good.

I haue read (ꝙ Isabella) that there be sundry kindes of loue. The vse of loue, are diuers ꝙ Soranso, as in zeale towardes God, in duty towardes our Countrie, in obedi­ence towards our parēts, & in affectiō towards our frends The distinc­tions of loue. All which motions procéedeth forth of one loue, although som are more vehement then y ^e other, euen as many Ri­vers doo run out of one Spring, whereof som haue a more swift course then the other. But of that passion which we ordinarily call loue, the wish either tends to Marriage or wantōnesse. There is matter of disputation in Marriage (ꝙ Franceschina,) because y ^t estate is honorable, & yet sub­iect to crosse fortunes: But touching your conclusiō of wā ­tōnes, Knowne e­uils are not to bee defeu­ded. it deserueth to die in silence, for known euils are to bée chastened, without allowing their defences. Madame (ꝙ Faliero) vnlesse you reuoke this sentence, we wil haue you indited at Rome as an heretick, for by the Popes Cā ­nons, Priests may not marry: & they haue a custom among them selues, not to liue chast. Well (ꝙ Franceschina, if the Pope for this opinion, burne mée as an heretick, good men will cannonise mée for a vertuous Uirgin.

[Page] Thease Digressions (quoth Quéene Aurelia,) are the meanes (rather) to worke a confusion of our memories, A necessarye note. then to conclude any beneficial matter for our instruction And therfore, I hold it to greater purpose (substantially) to handle one Argument, then (sleightly) to ouerrunne many causes, where y ^e doubts we leaue vnresolued, wyl be more daungerous vnto the hearer, then the Counselles we vse, profitable vnto the follower.

Madame, (quoth Fabritio) I hold it good, we obay your direction. And for that Mariage, is the most honourable euent of Loue: and that a Single lyfe, is the greatest testi­manie of Chastytie: A ciuill Contention, to prooue which A contention whether Ma­riage or the single lyfe, is the worthyer. is the most worthy of the two, would conclude much con­tentment: For, as Yron and Flynt, beat together, haue the vertue to smite fire: so, mens wit [...]s, encountryng in doutful questiōs, openeth a passage for imprisoned Trueth.

Quéene Aurelia, and the rest of the company, lyked ve­rie Argument decideth doubtes. well of the Subieat: and studing, who weare the fittest to deale in this Controuersie, Aurelia (with a glaunsinge eye) beheld, that her seruant Ifmarito, witsafed no greater Token, that he tooke delight in thease actions then (some­time) Wise scilence worketh mor regarde then foolish talke. the secrete bestowyng of a modest smile: whervpon she forethought, that as Floods, when they are most hyest, maketh least noise: euen so (perchaunce) his styll tongue, was gouerned by a flowyng wit [...]; and desirous to sounde his sufficiencie, she quickned him with this crosse surmise.

Seruant (quoth she) your sober lookes, promiseth a hope that you will vndertake Dianaes quarrell: but (which wil serue in this question) I feare me, you cōn [...]aund Loue, so much, as you contempne Mariage: And the greater is my suspicion, in that you are a T [...]auayleri y ^e nature of which A fault in ma­ny trauellers. sort of people, is to swell, with a [...] [...]isdayne of Mariage? The reason is (say they) their Affections are poy­ioned, with the knowledge of womens so haynous euyls, as the [...] dare not venter of that vocation: But my opinion is, they [...]learned so many [...]lties to de [...] [...] lesse w [...], as dandled with the [...]ments of sundry [Page] Loues, they forsweare Mariage, who bindes them to one only wyfe: And if you be infected w ^t the humour of thease sorte of Trauailers, you may wel vndertake this charge: Al vnmarried, pass vnder the name of chast. for Venus, though she loue not Diana, yet is she the sworn enemie of Iuno. And if you be sound from this infirmitie, the little haste you make to marry, witnesseth, you honor Hymen, with no great deuotion, and therfore, I cōmaund you too vse all your possyble proofes, in the Defence of a Single lyfe: and for your Assistaunce, I do appoin [...]t you, Lucia Bella, whom, this Charge can not mislyke, because (as I vnderstand) she meanes to be a professed Nun: You are to encounter the opinions of many, and therfore, arme your selues, with as good reasons, as you may.

Madame (quoth Ismarito) I am so déepely bound vnto your commaundement, as I am driuen to leaue youre suggestions not answeared, and my owne inne [...]ency, vn­excused, & only attend y ^e incounter of him, y ^t wil maintaine Marriage, to be more worthy then a syngle life: which vo­cation of Marriage, though I reuerently honour, yet I so zealously affect the other, as I hope (where the Iudges are indifferent) to make the glory thereof to shine as the faire white, aboue euery other colour.

Syr, quoth Soranso, though white be a fayre colour, yet Defences of Marriage are the choyse of all other colours, more rich and glorious: so, though Virginitie (which is the fayrest flower of a sin­gle lyfe) be precious, in the sight of God, and in the opini­on of men, yet is Marriage more precious, in that, it is a sacred institution of God, and more honoured of men: the Marryed are reuerently intertained, when the vnmaryed are but familiarly saluted. The Maried in assemblies, are honoured with the hyghest places, the vnmarryed hum­ble them selues vnto the lowest. To be short, Virginitie is the handmayde of Marriage. Then, by how much the Master is greater then the seruaunt, by so much Marriage is more worthy then is single lyfe.

I confesse quoth Ismarito, Marriage is an honourable Defences of a single lyfe. e [...]ate, instituted of God, and embraced of men, but wher­on [Page] had she her beginning? vpon this cause, to kéepe men from a greater inconuenience: as the Lawe was foun­ded vppon this reason, to punishe the trespasses of men. But if no offence had ben giuen, the Law had not néeded So if man had lyued within boundes of reason (whiche before any commaundement geuen; was vnto him a Law) Marriage might haue ben spared: and therefore in the hyest degrée, is but a vertue vppon necessitie: where Chastitie, is a deuine vertue, gouerned by the motions of the soule, which is immortall, and perticypating of the same vertue, is alwaies fresh and gréene. The euer­springing Baye, is the Metamorphos of chast Daphnè, whom Appollo, although he weare a soueraign GOD, could not allure to Mariadge: which prooueth Chastitie, a true spark of Diuinitie, whose twinkling reflexions, so daseleth the eyes of imagined Gods (whose powers must néedes be more great then the greatest of men) as they cannot sée an ende of their incontinent desires: where as the beautie of Marriadge, is many times blasted by for­tune, or the frailtie of the Married.

Therfore (think I) by how much deuyne thinges are of greater emprise then earthlye; by so much the Single lyfe, is more worthy then then▪the maryed.

And in aduauntage, [ꝙ Lucia Bella] where Soranso sayth, that there is great honour done vnto the married, and to the Single is giuen light regard, I pray you whe­ther are Baccus minions or the Muses, most reuerensed? Among men, whose places are hyer then the Cleargies? and amonge women, whose greater then the religious Dames?

They haue not this preheminence [ꝙ Faliero] because Defences of Mariadge. they professe a Single life, but because their function is more sacred then other mens, who if their prayers to GOD bee no more zealous, then their vowes to cha­stytie The cause why the Clea gie are reue­ [...]ensed. are stedfast, you flye to the authoritie of a company as spotted as Labans Shéepe. [Page] But where Sir Ismarito saith, y ^t Mariage is but a verfue vpon necessytie, to restrayne man from a greater euyll: I approoue it an estate, set downe by Nature, and that man hath but amplified it, with certain Ceremonies, to make perfect the determination of nature: For we dayly sée, in vnreasonable Creatures, Mariage is (in a sorte) worshyp ped: Fowles of the Ayre (I meane) the he and the she, cupple together, flie together, féede together, and neast to­gether. The Turtle is neuer merie after the death of her Mate: and in many brute Beastes, the lyke Constancie is fownd: But (generally) there is neuer iarre nor misly­kyng betwene the Male and Female, of vnpollitique cre­atures: and among the most barbarous people that euer Vnpollitick creatures re­uerence ma­riadge, lyued, by the Impression of Nature, Mariage hath (euer­more) ben reuerenced and honoured: Muche more, ciuill people, ought to affecte this holy estate: And where Isma­rito, attributes suche Glorie vnto a Single lyfe, because that Daphne was metamorphosed into a Bay Trée, whose Branches are alwayes gréene: In my opnion, his reason is fayre lyke the Bay Trée: for the Bay Trée is barren of pleasant fruict, & his plesing words of weighty matter.

Furthermore, what remembrance is theare of faire Sirinx coynesse, refusing to be God Pans wife? other then that she was metamorphosed into a fewe vnprofitable Réedes: Or of Anaxaretes chaste crueltie towardes Iphis, ouer then that she remaineth an Image of Stone in Samarin.

Many other suche lyke naked Monumentes remayne, of nice contempners of Marriage.

But in the behalf of Mariage, thousāds haue ben chan­ged into Olyue, Pomegranate, Mulberie, and other fruict­full-trées, swéete flowers, Starres, and precious Stones, by whom, the worlde is beautified, directed and noorished.

In many well gouerned commen wealths, Sterylitie hath ben reputed so vile, as the Aged was of no man ho­noured, y ^e had not childrē of his own, [to do him reuerence.

[Page] Then, by how much those thinges, which noorish with increase, are more necessarie then those things, which but simply please the eye: by so muche, the marryed, is more worthy then the single lyfe.

Sir, quoth Ismarito, it séemeth that you haue read a Defences of a single lyfe, Leafe more then Sainct Katherynes Nun: for she (simply) tried all thinges, and you (subtilly) vse, but what serueth your owne tourne: you reproach a Single lyfe, with Bar­rennesse, & commend the fertilytie of Mariage: But had you showen the wéedes with y ^e Corne, bare pasture wold haue retourned as great a benefit, as your haruest. The Monsters, Serpents, and loathsome Creatures, mentio­ned by Ouide, in his Metamorphosis, were they not I praye you the fruicts of Marriage? as wel as the blessings, whiche you so affectedlye reported? Oedippus was glad to scratch out his eyes, because he could not indure to behold the vices of his Children. The good Emperour Marcus Aurelius in his aged daies, neuer rose that he sighthed not: neuer dyned that he fretted not: nor neuer went to bedd, that he wéeped not: to heare, sée, and consider, the moun­strous euylls of his Children. Admit the Married, haue vertuous Children, they may dye when they are yonge, then the goodnesse of their lyues, increaseth sorrowes, by their deathes: and where the comfort is so doubtfull, it is not amisse to refuse the hazard of the gréefe: neither dyeth Vertuous fame, is an o­ther lyfe. there any of Dianas band, but that their vertues reuiueth them as the ashes of the Phenix, tourneth into an other Phenix.

It is for some Phenix sake, quoth Quéene Aurelia, that you thus stoutly defend a Single lyfe.

I doo but your commaundement, quoth Ismarito. You (quoth shée) it is at my commaundement, but yet for some others merit.

Alvisa vechio, fearing that Marriage wold receiue som disgrace, if that Quéene Aurelia fauoured the Defence The impati­encie of wo­men, will not be hidde. of a Single lyfe, could not longer suppresse her affections, but with a womans Impatiencie, blamed the rigour of [Page] Diana, who condēpned Acteon to be deuoured of his own Howndes: who caused swéete▪ Addonis to be slayne by a wylde Boare: with many other cruell partes, vnséemyng the naturall pittie of a woman: but (which might haue sa­ued a great deale of Argument, or at the least, which wyll now soone ende the Controuersie:) compare [ꝙ she] Iuno and Diana together, and by their callings, you may easely iudge who is the worthyer. Diana (poore soule) is but a Goddesse here on earth, and Iuno is Quéene of Heauen: Dianaes force, is in her Bow and Arrowes, Iuno bestow­eth Thunderbolts, vpon her enemies: Diana, is attyred with gréene leaues, and Iuno with glorious Starres: Di­ana, féedeth on rawe Fruictes, and drinketh cold water: Iunoes Feastes, are of Manna, and her Bowles are fild with Nectar: Dianes Musick, is no better then the voy­ces of a fewe Nymphes: Iuno is recreated with the Har­monie of Angelles: Dianaes pastime, is (a foote) to chace the fearefull Roe, where Iuno (in Phaetons wynged Cha­riot) pursueth a thousand seueral pleasures: then, by how much the pompe of Iuno, excéedeth the naked Triumphes of Diana: by so much, Mariage must néedes be more wor­thye then the Single lyfe.

Lucia Bella, that shuld haue answered Alvisa Vechio, (not vnlyke the Marygoulde, that cloaseth her Beautie, when Phebus is attyred with his brightest Rayes) so ad­myred the glory of Iuno, y ^t, as an inchaunted creature, her Vaine glori­ous shewes bewicheth women. tongue forgot her naturall office: the reason was, her hart was sodenly surprised with an ambitious desire of honor.

Which change, Ismarito perceyued, with the first: and least, her scilence shuld conclude a yealding: Al is not gold Contentmēt neither fol­loweth the greatest, nor scorneth the meanest. [ꝙ he] that glistereth, nor euery thyng counterfet that is not curiously garnished: a smyling countenance is no full testimonie of a merie hart, nor costly Garments, of a rich Purse: And (perchance) the griefe of Iunoes secret discon­tentmentes, is greatter then the delight of her gloryous pompe: where Diana, who (as a Diamond in the darcke, shineth of her selfe) needeth not the Ornaments of Iuno.

[Page] And as shée is (symplye) of a pure substaunce, so her thoughtes, must needes be swéete, and quiet.

Sir [ꝙ Maria Belochy] our soundest iudgements, are of those things that we our selues sée: therfore, if the ap­paraunce of Mariage, be worthier then the apparaunce of the single lyfe: if sentence be truely pronounced, it must be in the behalfe of Iuno.

Quéene Aurelia perceyuing the increase of Ismaritos aduersaries, (for who can stop a streame? measure the fire? weygh the winde? or hynder Fancyes passage?) and with­all considering how that the controuercy was sufficiently debated, commaunded the contenders, to kéepe scilence: and referred y ^e qustiō, to be Iudged by Fabritio, & Isabella.

Who hauing aduisedly considered, the reasons on both sydes, agréed that a single chast lyfe pleased God, because, Chastitie is pure: and also delighteth man, because, shée quieteth the mynde: but a chast marryed lyfe, bothe plea­seth, and honoureth God: because Marriage, howrely, pre­senteth the world, with the Image of himselfe: pleaseth, and profiteth man, because, she giueth him a companyon, by affection, chaunged into his owne disposition: of whom he hath children, who in dispight of death, preserueth him alyue. And therefore, the sentence of them both, was pro­nounsed by Fabritio, in the behalfe of Marriage: who with Sentence gy­uen, in the be halfe of Ma­riage. all, enlarged her prayses, with the reporte of many swéet Blessinges, whiche shée liberallye bestoweth, vppon her Subiectes.

But least the company, should haue ben fyred with too hasty a desyre of Marriage, he cooled theyr affections, with such caueats, as they that had their voyces ready tuned, to synge the prayses of God Himen, were of the sud­dayne, as mute as a fishe: by reason whereof, Fabritio, had free passage: for his counsellinge reporte: who, after many wordes, to either purpose deliuered, concluded with the opinion of Plato, That Marriage, was a Parradice on earth, if her Lawes be obserued: and a Hell in the House, Platoes opi­nion of Ma­riage. where her Satutes are broken.

[Page] The Gentlewomen wist not what to say, to Fabririos bitterswéete commendation of Marriage, vntyll Bargetto Pleasant tal [...] is good phy­sicke for sor­rowe. quickned their tongues, by this pleasaunt suggestion.

If (quoth he) Platoes opinion be lawe, by the same rea­son, women are either Angells, or Deuills.

And why not men, as well as women (quoth Isabella) whose disposition beareth the greatest swaye in this voca­tion.

I will showe you a reason, quoth Doctor Mossenigo, men with a meane, canne temper their passions: when a The extreme passions of [...] woman. woman hath no measure in her loue, nor mercye in her hate: no rule in her pittie, nor pietie in her reuenge: no Iudgement to speake nor patience to dissemble: and ther­fore she is lykened vnto the Sea, whych (one whyle) is so A GVNDELO, is a litle Boat like a wherie. mylde, as a small Gundelo indureth her might, and anon, with outrage, she ouer whelmeth the taullest shippe.

Ah Master Doctor, quoth Katharina Trista, I feare me you are so learned, as like the Hyen, you change your self HIEN, som­times a man, and somtimes a woman. sometimes into the shape of a woman: but yet, of this ma­litious purpose, to learn their dispositions: only to reproch their kinde: but had any of vs the cunning, to become a man but a while, I imagine, we should euer after, loue the better to be a woman.

You haue rather cause (quoth Dondolo) to let Mayster Doctor kisse your hand, (for commēding your kynde) then to blame him, by a surmise, of iniurye, offered vnto wo­men, for if there be a few good, they couer y ^e faults of a nū ­ber that are euill: as a litle golde, guildeth a great quan­titie of iron: and for any-thing he sayde, you haue as gene­rall an interest in vertue, as in vice.

Yea, but [ꝙ Quéene Aurelia] he is to be blamed for his intent, which was euyll, & deserueth not to be praysed The intent of euyll, is to be punished. for the good which came of it, which was our meryt.

Madame (ꝙ the Doctor) so much greater is the good, you receiue by my Trespasse, as therby you are honoured with the vertue, to forgiue.

[Page] Yea, but (quoth she) remission is to be vsed in ignorant offences, and not in wilfull. Pardon is to be vsed in ig­noraunce and not in wilfull faultes.

My Habit (quoth he) is a testionie that I spake not of mallice.

So much [ꝙ she] y ^e greater is your fault, in that it pro­céeded vpon pleasure: and where you thinke to priuiledge your selfe by: your Habyt: for Example sake, you shall at The punish­ment of great offenders dooth most good in ex­ample. (open) Supper, bothe renounce your Heresie and make satisfaction, or abide the Iudgemēt of these Gentlewomē.

If there be no remedie [ꝙ he] I must obay.

The Doctor thus taken tardie, gaue occasion of laugh­ter vnto the whole company.

Which, blowne ouer, [ꝙ Soranso] we haue trauailed this day to an vnfortunate ende: for that now, towardes night, we are entred into an open Champion, wheare we finde many broade wayes to Hell, & but one crosse Path to Heauen.

Well (ꝙ Quéene Aurelia) we wyll take other tymes, to beate out the true passage: And (least we be lated) wée wyll no further too daye.

Whervpon, after a Courtly reuerence don: Quéene Aurelia, with her Attendantes, shewed her selfe in y ^e great Chamber, where she might repose her minde w ^t the choice of sundrie pleasures: For his, or her disposition was very strange, that in that company, could not finde both a Companion and sport, that pleased his humour.

¶DOCTOR MOSSENIGO HIS Satisfaction, for praysing women against his will.

IN the famous Citie of Viena, in Austria, somtimes dwelled a simple Sadler, named Borrihauder, who was married to an olde crabbed shrew, called Ophella: the a­gréement of this couple was so notable, as the Emperour Charles the fift, commaunded his Paynter Parmenio, to draw their counterfeats, as a Monument of fury: Parme­nio, commyng to doe the Emperours commanndement, found Borrihauder wéeping with the agony of his wiues stripes, and Ophellas chéeks as red as fire with the heate of her tonge: whiche straunge sight, chaunged his deter­mination, into a pleasaunt conceit, and in place of their Counterfets, in a fayre table, he drew an Element trou­bled with lightnyng, and vnderwrit Ophella, and in ano­ther Table fastened to the same, he likewise drew an E­lement darkned with rayne, and vnder wright, Borihau­der. Parmenio presented this trauel vnto the Emperour. The Emperour séeing the two names, and not the shape of those, hee commaunded to be drawne, demaunded the Paynters meanyng héerein, who pleasantly aunswered, that he could not take the view of Ophellas face, for feare of being fyered with the lightning of her tonge, and that Borihauder was drowned with teares, which as showers of Raine folowed the thunder claps, of his wiues Fistes: But in good time (had she died) this Demideuill Orphella fel so extremely sick, as in euery mans iudgement, it was néedefull to giue Phisick to her soule, but bootelesse to be­stow any of her body: Borihauder séeing her, as he thought at a good passe, was so accustomed to sorrow, as hee deter­mined to toule her passing bel, with this counterfet mone. Ah deare God (ꝙ he) how vnhappy am I to lose my louing wife, my good wyfe, my swéet wife? O how happy were I, that as we haue lyued together, that we might nowe dye together. This pittyous sound of her husband, so melted

[Page] the dying harte of Ophella, that lyke a Candle consumed, that leaueth a little smoke in the wéeke, she lay both spéech les, & senceles, saue that the panges of death, sometymes threwe a weake breath out of her mouthe: but lyke vnto wilde fire, that burneth in water, the Corsiue, that would haue killed the deuill, in her case, recouered her to health, which was her husband, out of feare of her life, in dispight of the iniurie of time past, fell to kisse and coll his Maide, which watched his gasping wife, before hée tooke order w ^t the Clarke, to ring her knell: which Ophella, as dim as her sight was, perceiued, & Furie, which was the last mo­tion, that accōpanied her in life, like a whirl wind, y ^t with a suddaine violence, draweth things into the ayre, so fired her hart with malice, to sée her husband in this iolity with her maide, as madnes, gaue her the strength to crye. Ah, ah, Traytour, I am not yet dead, ah villain, villaine, I am not yet dead: and through this passion, choller so dryed her Catar, as shortly after, she perfectly receyued her health: and so canuassed her husband Borrihauder, as by the mo­tions of sorrow, & payne, he hung himselfe in a Crabtrée:

O quoth Katherina Trista, it was great dammage that Thymon of Athens was not in the town, to show al mal­litious men that trée. The deuill might haue put in their myndes, to haue hanged themselues.

This suddayne answeare of Katherina Trista, tickled A cunnynge aunswere, ta­keth away the grace of a shrewd tale. all the companye with a laughter, a good parte whereof, were reddy to scandall women, with a frowarde nature, beyng by this example, more fostered with dyspight, then good vsage: who, nowe for feare of theyr owne reproche, amplyfied not Master Doctors tale, with any other spight­full authorityes.

For the Hystorie of Thymon of Athens dogged na­ture, was so well knowne to euerie Gentleman, as the THYMON of Athens was the swor [...] enemie of humanitie. remembraunce of his name, assured them, that there ne­uer lyued woman of so fcowarde a condityon: neyther is it possible, that euer any man agayne, shoulde be so great an enemye to Humanitie.

[Page] And there vpon [ꝙ Falerio] Thymon of Athens was without heyre or successor, and therefore is no able exam­ple, to blame vs.

Neither had Ophela (for any thinge we heare) either heyre or successor, (quoth Aluisa Vechio:) then, by your owne reason, is of no authoritie to slaunder our sexe.

This one quip for an other (although more myldelye handled of the Gentle women side, accordinge to their na­turall modestie) quieted either parte. In so moch as Doctor Mossenigo humbly desired to to be receiued, into the grace of women againe.

Nay, [ꝙ Quéene Aurelia] you deserue to bee euer­euermore banyshed the presences of women.

Alas good Madam, (quoth he) I did but your comman­dement, and therupon I appeale to the report of the com­pany.

Yea, but (quoth she) my meanyng was otherwise. A dutiful sub iect is bound to obay his Princes wor­des, and not linger vpon the effect.

O Madame (quoth he) Subiects, are bounde to execute their Soueraignes woordes, and are not priueledged, to interpret their charge, to their owne fancy.

I sée well, [ꝙ Quéene Aurelia] that there is no dea­lyng with a Lawyer, for they can defend their owne tres­passes, with the same sworde, they punish other mens of­fences, and therefore better to haue you a fayned friende, (being so daungerous) then an open enemie: wherefore, A fayned friend is bet­ter then a dan gerous open enimy. we pardon you.

By this time, Supper, and euerie seruice of the Ta­ble ended. Whereuppon, Quéene Aurelia, and the whole company rose, and saluting one an other, with a ciuill re­uerence. The Musick sommoned the yonge Gentelmen, and Gentlewomen, to daunsinge: for (this night) they ex­pected no other pastime, vnlesse it were dicing, carding, or such like vnthrifty sports. And therfore as the night grew on, or they waxed wearie, vntill the next mornyng they commytted one an other, a dio.

The Historie in the reproche offorced Mariage, reported by Faliero.

IN the famous Cittie of Cirene, in Affrick, dwelled sometimes a riche Marchaunt named Tryfo. This Tryfo had a wealthy neighbour called Clearches, who of long time entertained one an other with a neighborly af­fection Tryfo to inherite all his liuings, had but one onely sonne, named Sicheus: and Clearches one onely Daughter called Elisa. The Parents to establish (as they imagined) an euerlasting amitie, betwéene theyr houses, concluded a Mariage for theyr vnfortunate Children: making no doubt, but that they would as well inherite theyr affecti­ons, as theyr liuings: of which there was hope enough, if the order had béene as good to establish theyr Loue, as the haste great, to sollemnize the Mariage: for that in theyr persons, appéered no signe of disagréement, nor in theyr abilyties cause of exception: but looue (that behouldeth no more quicknesse in a Dyamond, then in a dim Saphyre) though he take impression by sight, rooteth in contempla­tion: Looue roo­teth by Contem­plation. which deuine exercise of the soule, smally delighteth gréen Youthe, who intertaine their thoughts with a thou­sand vaine fancies: but to my purpose. The Mariage day drew neare: and as at the very push of Battell, the wise Captaine animateth his Souldiers, with some plausible Oration, euen so the night before the Mariage, Tr [...]fo schee­led his sonne Sicheus, with this following aduertisement.

My good sonne quod he, so great are the follyes of men, Aduise to a booteles purpose. and so cunning the deceits of women, as the most (especial­ly the yonger sorte) wyll credite theyr lookes, without loo­king into their liues: beléeue their woordes, and lightly re­gard their workes: delyght to recount, theyr entertaine­ments, and disdaine to reclion theyr shrewde payments. [Page] For as the sycke pacient, comforted with the Phisitions words, leaues to examine the quallities of his receites: Buē so, the wretched Louer, cured with the yéelding of his Looue yeelds nei­ther to wyt, strength nor lear­ning. beautifull Mistrisse, with negligence, bothe ouer lookes his owne benefit, & her behauiour. Salomon was deceyued, Sampson subdued, Aristotle derided, and Hercules murthe­red, by the illusions of errant honest women.

Kinge Demetrius, notwithstanding he was bothe wise An ex­streame af­fection. and valiant, was so bewitched with the wyles of the no­torious strumpet Lamia, as in open Schooles, he raysed disputations, whether the loue he bare Lamia, or the Iew­els he bestowed vpon her, were the greater: or whether her merrit excéeded them bothe or noe. Yea when she di­ed he caused her to be Intombed vnder his Bed Chamber windowe, to the ende, that with dayly teares he might worship her engraued bones, who (liuing) was of him in­tirely belooued.

If the wisest, and the worthyest, be thus ouertaken in their affections, what easie baites may beguile thée, who in yeares art young, of substaunce delicate and lustie, and therefore apt to looue: reddy in conceyt, and of considerati­on vnperfect: whot in desire, and in discretion colde: My sonne, by experience I know, and to preuent thy ouerlike­ly mischaunce in choyce: I haue chosen thée a wife, fayre to please theae, ritche to continue looue, her Parents my assured fréendes, and she thy affected loouer: loue her well, beare with her in small faultes, as a woman and the wea­ker, & bridle thy owne euill affections as a man, her head and gouernour: and in thus dooing, God will multiply his blessings vpon you, and make your aged Parents to dye in peace, to sée you liue in prosperitie. Young Sicheus re­garded his Fathers tale, as Schollers doo their Tutors, who giuing them leaue to playe, admonisheth them with all, to kéepe good rule, which they promise, and performe the contrary. With the like affection, Sicheus embraced Mariage. He was not so soone wearie of dallying with his Wife, as he was ready to entertayne a Harlot: [Page] so that in shorte space, he became a common Louer, and a carelesse Husband: and withall, grew as arrogant in de­fending his libertie, as dissolute in his actions and beha­uiour: If his friends did gently aduise him, he was of age The title of Mariage, maketh youthe ar­rogant. to counsell himselfe: if his Parents did sharply reprehend him, he would impudently aunswer, he was past correcti­on: if his Wife found her selfe agréeued with his hard v­sage, she might well complaine, but he would take no time to amend: so that his dayly actions of euill, tooke a­way all after hope of weldeeing: in so much as he became odious vnto his friends, that beheld his lewde inclination: and a plague vnto his Wife, who was dayly oppressed, with his monstrous vices. So that, the ouercharge of sorrow made her many times passage, for these and such like passions.

O vnhappie and ouer hastie Mariage, which in the pride of my youthe, with discontentments, makest me re­semble a fayre Fig Tree, blasted with the after colde, of an vntimely Spring: but why blame I Mariage, which is Abuse of good things, worke euill effectes. honourable? alas, because the abuse of good things, worke euill effectes: Roses vnaduisedly gathered, pryck our hands: Bees vngently vsed stinge our faces, yet the one pleasaunt, and the other profitable: so that if their come any euil of that which is good, our folly or fortune is cause thereof: Aye me, when I was married, I was to young to be a wife, and therefore haue no reason to exclayme on folly. But Fortune, fowle falle thée, which crossest me with cursses, in possessing me with those things, which o­thers That which is blessing to one, may be a curse to an other. holde for blessings: Wealth, that bestoweth plea­sures on many, is the orriginall of my woe. Mariage, which giueth lybertye to many, inlargeth my Fetters, and demaundeth death for my raunsome: Beautie that ad­uaunseth many, is to me a disgrace: for that, inioying her forme, I am of Sicheus not fantasied, of whom euery foule Carlesnesse of the hus­band bree­deth hate in the vvife. and common Trull is belooued: But therein, Fortune, thou doost me no wronge, for my hate towards him ouer­ [...]ayseth his light regarde of me. O but my hart is conti­nually [Page] afflicted with his euill, and his finger neuer akes with my mallice. Yea: but Forberaunce edgeth the sword Choller, is soone qui­ted, but Forbe­raunce in­creaseth mallice. of Reuenge, when Choller, though it often strikes, it woundes not muche. Raine falleth euery where, yet bea­teth but the leaues, the thunder Bowlt lighteth in one place, but yet teareth vp the rootes: so though I dissemble tyll oportunitie, Sicheus shall féele my hate to death: and though I endure a space, I will redéeme my dying life: and perseuering in this resolution, Elisaes thoughts, that were lately drowned in sorrow, now flamed with desyre of Reuenge: and the Deuill who is the Executioner of Vengeance, presented her foorthwith this vngratious The Dîucll is the Exe­cutioner of vengeasice. meane.

A Yonge Gentleman, named Chion, among a troupe of other Ladyes and Gentlewomen, beheld fayre Elisae, with such a burning affection, as he foorthwith dispossessed his owne hart, to make his bosome the seate of her imagi­ned Image: so that his soule, that continually eyed her beautie, and his heart, at the direction of his Mistresse, gaue such a heate to his desire, that had he béene sure to haue receiued Ixions torments, for his ambitious attemp­ting of Iunoes loue, he could neither haue left to loue, nor An ex­treame passion of Loue. haue forborne to séeke for grace: so that follow what would, he foorthwith presented his affections, in this en­suing Letter.

This Letter sealed, and subscribed, was delyuered to so cunning a Messenger as néeded no instructions in Chi­ons behalfe. The Letter presented, and aduisedly reade by Elysa, surprised her with an vnmeasurable ioye: not so much for that she had purchased her self a faithfull Loouer, as procured her Husband a mortall enemy: of which Chi­ons Letter gaue her not so great assuraunce, as the dispo­sition of his countenaunces, in a former regarde: and ther­vppon A naturall feare in a vvoman, suppresseth many of their euill affections. pursuing Sicheus with more hate, then minding Chion with affection, she mused vppon an number of mischéefes, inuented by desyre to be reuenged, and sup­pressed by feare to be defamed.

[Page] In fine, remembring, that she had read: Loue quicke­neth a mans wit, although it burieth Reason: To trie, if he could define, what Seruice she desired: she retourned Chion a Briefe, wherin he had a light to mischiefe, and yet might be read, without bleamysh of her honour: the Effect wherof, was this.

CHION, receyued this Scrowle: But yet before he presumed to reade the Contents, he kissed and rekissed the same: houldyng an opinion, that commyng from his Mistresses handes, it deserued suche honour (althoughe it contayned Sentence of his death: not vnlyke the foolishe An example, for Christian Subiectes. Mahometians: who vpon their Emperours Commaunde­mentes, are ready Executioners of their owne lyues:

But to my purpose: when Chion had throughly per­vsed this strange Aunswere: weare it Cicheus his heauy Craft hath many times his will, with an opinion of honestie. Destinie, or a iust Scourge, for his fore trespasses: (accur­sed that he was) he became too iust an Executioner of Elisaes wicked wil: but yet with this interpretation, that the loue she bare her Husband, directed her in this answer.

In so much, as, ouercom with a furious hate towards Cicheus, as the Barre of his welfare, lyke a Lyon that bites the Iron grate, which houlds him from his pray: so­denly with this salutation, he sheathed his Sword in Ci­cheus intrayles.

The fact, was so fowle, and withall so publique, as the Wilful faults deserue no pardon. Officers of Iustice, immediatly seased vpō Chion: & for y ^t his bloodie sword, was a witnes of the trespas, there was no Plea to saue him: for wilfull faultes may be pitied, but deserueth no pardon: and to say trueth, neither did he de­sire to lyue, because ELISA, the vertue of his lyfe, by the charge of Lawe, was bownd to sue him to death: who [Page] followed the processe, with an apparance of sorrow, suche as if her Conscience had bene without scruple of guilti­nesse, or her harte a thowsande degrées from ioye: when God knowes, she was puffed with the one, and the other, so that the wonder, at her dissimulation, equalled the re­proche of her notorious hatred.

To be shorte, this was the Iudges sentence: Chyon A fauour euil bestowed. should be beheaded, as amends for Cicheus death, and the Widdow should be endowed with his goods, for the dam­mage done vnto her: but God which knoweth our sea­cret faultes (when Iudges though they rule as Gods, know, but what they heare and sée as men) not willynge This Iudge is not parciall, for fauor, gain or feare. to hide such an haynous offence: First, amased all the hea­rers, with an vnknow voice, Elisaes harte, is as Gyltie, as Chions hand: and therewithal, thundred this following vengeance, vppon the cleared malefactor. The Infant in Eysaes wombe, as it were engendred of the Parents ma­lyce, at the verie instaunt, not obeying the course of Na­ture, so tyrannised her Intrailes, as with very agony she dyed, and with all remayneth an opinyon, that the Hus­band, Wife, and Sonne, by the appointment of the Gods, were Metamorphosed into Vipers, whiche venimous Beastes are thrall to these curses. The female after shee hath engēdred, murdreth the Male, because she wil not be The curses geuen vnto a Viper. ruled as an inferiour: and the yong eate themselues, forth of their Dams Intrailes: because they wil not be bound to the obedience of Nature.

Well quoth Soranso) though your Metamorphos bee vnlykly, yet is it not vnnecessarilye applyed. For, for the most part, those which are forced to Mariage, agrée little better then Uipers. But it séemeth to mée (Segnior Falie­ro) you haue too fauourably reported this Historie in Ely­saes behalfe, considering the mortal venyme she tempered in her harte. Breuitie is best in passio­nate matters, and effectatiō, in pleasaunt.

O (quoth Faliero) longe fowle wayes, both tyreth the Horse, and wearieth his Ryder, where both the one, and the other, ouercommeth the length of fayre passages, with pleasure: Euen so, in a ruthfull Historie, ouer plentie of [Page] wordes, both gréeueth the reporter, and giueth means for a thousande sighes to breake from the hearer, where affec­ted circumstances giue a grace to a pleasant tale. Sorow Sorrowes [...] seth scilence. to heare their kinde thus stayned with crueltye, locked vp the tonges of the poore Gentlewomē a pretie while. In the end (ꝙ Aluisa Vechio, a dame more olde, & bold then the rest,) meséemeth that Faliero hath but little fauored E­lysa, We are boūd to showe as­well the cause as to punnish the euill. for he hath showen her euill, and the scourge of her e­uill: and in charitie, he was bounde to shewe the cause of her euill: I would quoth (Doctour Mossenigo) that Frier Bugiardo, had hearde this disputation, it might haue ben the breaking downe of the Altar, wherevpon he but lately Good morra­litie, is better then euil doc­trine. committed blasphemie, woulde haue more reformed him, then his pleasing Sermon, could haue confirmed vs. These aduantages the Doctor tooke to crosse the Gentlewomen, his late open enemies, and but nowe his fained friendes: There is no trustinge of a reconcyled e­nemye. not vnlike a sneaking dog, that neuer barkes but bites withall. And to spite them the more, quoth hee, Monsier Bergetto, since your are bound from speaking of loue. you haue both cause and oportunitie to talke of womens hate. The example of a naughtye nature.

Pardon me (quoth Bergetto) for this penance was but a due payne for my presumption, which I hope to ouer­come with patient suffering: and sure in this milde aun­swere: Bergetto shewed a moral vertue, and Doctor Mos­senigo, A necessarie note. by his malicious question, a canckred nature: for simplie to offend procéedeth of frailtie, but to perceauer in euill is a noate of wilfull frowardnesse.

Well, notwithstanding Bergettos temperaunce, a Ca­ueler caught hold vppon this question, as a Mastiue vppon an old drye Mariebone, & to proue a womans hatred more A Caueller, hath colours for euerie question. greater then her loue: hée auouched manye cruell autho­rities. But Faliero, who had donne them some iniurie in reporting the late history made them part of amends, & put their aduersarie to silence in prouing the contrary: his rea­son was, that their hate, in the extremest degrée, stretched, but to the death of another, and their loue many times; hath done wilful murder vpon them selues.

[Page] Then it followeth, by how much we pryse our selues Wemēs loue, is more great thē theyr hate aboue an other, by so muche, theyr loue is greater then theyr hatred.

Yea (quoth the Doctor) but their loue and hatred, are Wemē do a­mis, but men are the cause. both violents: and euery violent is an euill.

Yea Master Doctor (quoth Maria Belochy) their euills are the greater for men, for by their flattering enchaunt­ments, wemen loue immoderately, and stung with mens Beauty ouer­commeth the wisest. vnsusserable iniuries, they hate mortally.

The Doctor replied, there was more power in her lookes, then authoritie in her wordes: but least he should be sub­dued by the one, he would not contend with the other.

Why (quoth Quéene Aurelia) beauty workes no more impression, in a Doctors eye, then doth poyson, in Miner­uas shéelde, for he by Philosophy can subdue affection.

Madame (quoth he) you may well compare beauty and poyson together, for their operations, are a lyke: saue that EVRIPIDES comparison, betweene Beauty and Loue. beauty is the more extreame, in that she infertes with her lookes, and poyson not, vnlesse wée taste it: or when it is most strong, not vnlesse we touch it: yea, Euripides, com­pareth her inchauntement, with the inticementes of a kingdome, whereas he saith.

To deale in Princes affayres, the companye was too gréene: but in Beauties behalfe, there was neither Gen­tleman, nor Gentlewoman, that was not desirous to boe reuenged of the Doctours detractyon: for hée that hath a [Page] slaunderous tonge iniurieth manie, and is himselfe hated of all men: but for that it was nowe to late, too decide any sclaunder is generally ha­ted. other great question, Quéene Aurelia adiorned the ending of anie centrouersie, vntill the next day.

The Deuice of the second Nights Mask.

BY a secreate foreknowledge of a Maske, with which Soranso, Bargetto, Ismarito, and others, purposed to honour Segnior Phyloxenus, and his company Sup­per, was hastned, & soone ended: and after the one had sa­luted the other, with an accustomed reuerence: while the rest of the Gentlemen interteined Time, with dauncing, or deuising with their Mistresses, the Maskers withdrew themselues, and about nine of the clocke, in this disguise, presented themselues agayne.

A Consort of swéete Musycke, sounded the knowledge of their comming: y ^t Musitians, in Gyppons and Ve­netians, of Russet and Blacke Taffata, bended with A Gentleman is not to shoe his passions, by his attyre. Murrey, and thereon imbroadered this Posie. Spero, Ti­meo, Taceo: expressing thereby, the sundrye passions of Loue: and before them two Torchbearers, apparelled, in Yallowe Taffata Sarcenet: the Generall apparell of the Maskers, was short Millaine Cloaks, Dublet and hose, of Grene Satten: bordered with Siluer: Greene Silcke stockes: White Scarpines: Rapiers and Daggers syluered: Blacke Veluet Cappes, and white Feathers. They agréed to be thus attyred, to showe themselues frée. in the eye of Men in many cases are to be priuileadged, for an others merrite. the world, and couertly bound vnto their Mistresses.

Ismarito for courtisy sake, because he was a stranger, and withal, in that his Mistres was the most honourable, had the leading of this Maske, who lighted with a torch, by his Page, apparelled in Blue Carnation, and whyte Ventoie, a Fan. Taffata: the colours of his Mistres: entred with a Ven­toy in his hand, made like an Ashe-tree: wrethed about with Iuye: expressing this posye: Testantevirebo: with [Page] which, vpon fit oportunitie, he presented Quéene Aurelia, his Mistresse: within which, weare (couertly hid these ver­ses in English Italion.

BARGETTO, lighted by a Page, apparayled in his Mistresse colours, Greene, Carnation and Whyte, fol­lowed Ismarito, hauing the mouth of his Mask closed with a small Golden Lock, as a witnesse of the true exe­cution of his Mistresse Commaundement: and vpon hys fist hee caried a Parrate to pratle to his Mistresse, vppon pausing betwéene euery solemne Almayne, and couertlye vnder the Parrats winge, was hidden this passion.

SORANSO, lighted by a Page, in Orange Tawny, Watchod and Greene, was the next that presented him selfe: who vppon his left side, had a Harte, of Crymson Granado Silke, so artificyally made & fastened to his du [...] ­let, as if his body had opened, and his hart appéered, which fell downe at his Mistresse féete, vpon such a Fortune, as she was bounde to take it vp, which opened, she might be­holde the Picture of her selfe, reading this submission.

DONDOLO, lighted by his Page, apparayled in Tawnie, Blew and Black Taffata, was the fourth: who vppon his Breast, bare a Myrrour, set the oute­side inwarde, and yet fastened so slope as it might receiue light, with an Imagination, that he showed his Hart, the Beautie of his Mistresse, & in y ^t thought, he wrot vpon the out side: Basta che spero: within whiche glasse, this sonet was coningly cōuated: which vpō a fit-oportunitie he pre­sented vnto his Mistresse, Lucia Bella.

FALIERO lighted by a Page, attired in Peach colour, yellow, and popeniay greene Taffeta, was the fifte & last that entred: who (as yf she were climynge vp his Arme) caryed a whyght Turtle, so artifyciallye made, as it deceyued, no lesse, then Parrhasius paynted Table Clothe: In whose Beake, were fynely rowled these Uerses.

In this order, and with these deuises, the Maskers en­tred, and after they had saluted Quéene Aurelia, and the honourable of the company, they placed themselues, some of the one side, of the greate Chamber, and some of the other, obseruynge therein a more discreate order then the ordynary Maskers: who at their first entraunce, either daunce with them selues, or rudelye sease vppon the Gentlewomen: but these Maskers, intertained a smal Tyme, with their Musick, while they had leasure to looke about, and espie who were the worthyest amonge the Ladies.

[Page] In the ende, Ismarito kyssing his hand, with a Counte­naunce abased, humbly desired Quéene Aurelia, to do him the grace, to daun [...] w ^t him. Next, Bergetto made choice of Franceschina Santa: after him, Soranso, chewsed, Ma­ria Belochi: Dondolo, raysed Lucia Bella: and last of all, Faliero, tooke his Mistresse Catharina Trista: and thus, they obserued in their choyce, the same course they kepte in their entrance.

After this Companie had performed all the ciuill Ser­uices of Maskers, leauyng behinde them, their Mistresses honoured, and the whole companie much contented: they departed in the good order they entred: sa [...]yng that their Mistresses were possessed with their seuerall Deuices.

Which done, the Gentlemen and Gentlewomen be­gan to shrinck out of the great Chamber, as the Starres séeme to shoote the Skie, towardes the Breake of Daye.

The Historie in reproofe of rash Mariages, reported by Doctor Mossenigo.

BEsides Capo Verdo, in times past, the capitall Citie, within the kingdome of Naples, sometime dwelled a forward young Gentleman called Marco Malipiero: the sonne and heire of Caualiero Antonio Malipiero, in his youthe renowned, for manie valiant seruices. This young Gentleman in the pride of his youth, became in­amoured Beautie, h [...]lfe a [...]owrie in a woman. of a most fayre Gentlewoman named Felice, the Daughter of Philippo Prouolo, an auncient Gentle­man, by harde aduenture decayed. But yet in dispight of fortunes iniurie, who disabled him with many losses, and thereby, of small wealth to aduance his Daughter: Felice her selfe was inriched with suche perfections of of nature, that the friends lamented, but could not blame the affection of young Malipiero: which in verie déede, grewe so great, as it contemned the duetie of a childe, and scorned the aduise of a Father: Felice alone gouerned him, and none but Felice he obeyed.

Prouolo intertayned Malipiero, with the curtisie of a friende, as the good partes he possessed: as for the possi­bilitie The poore eke th to matche with wealthy. of liuing he stoode in, who (striking the yron while it was whote) secreatelie fianced Malipiero to his fayre Daughter. The old Knight stormed at these newes, and not withstanding this knowne contract, if by any perswa­sions he could haue reuoked his sonnes consent, [...] would haue caused the Pope to haue dispensed with his consci­ence: [Page] and to that effect, her caused sundry of his friendes to deale with him in these affayres. And among many an auncient Gentleman, his Gouernour, and somtimes his Schoolemaister (whose granetie, Malipiero reuerensed) in a mylde order commoned with him, and amonge other questions demaunded, with what reason he could iustifye his light affections, and condemne the sounde aduyte of friendes.

Malipiero, resolute in his loue, boldly aunswered, that A rash aun­swer. Felices deuine beauty, was a sufficient warrant for ether.

This wise Gouernour would not harden his hart with The wordes sheweth the wit of the [...]e­porter, but his gesture causeth atten tion in the hearer. obstinacy, in a sharp reprehension of his publike arrogant aunswere, but with an affable countenaunce, coniured hym to lysten vnto his graue sayinges.

O (quoth he) is she beautifull? then you haue worke inough to watch her, & mischance sufficient to suspect her.

Is she beautifull? then her rashnesse in consent, show­eth that she is indiseréet: so that the diuersitie of quallities will soone finde out a diuision in your desires.

Is she beautifull? then it is lyke (by her quick agrée­ment) that she is poore, then is her Loue fastened on your riches: so that when you lacke money to maintaine her pompe, she leaues, to make much of your person.

Is she beautifull? then she is withall (lightly) proude, and the pride of a woman (saith Per [...]ander) is lyke vnto a The nature of Pride. Dropsey: for a drinke encreaseth the drouth of the one, se (sayeth he) Cost enlargeth the expence of the other: then if your Purse be not open to féede her folly, she will pawne her honour to please her fancy.

Is she beautifull? then her indiscreation, in this ha­stinesse, showes her but a slender huswife, so that the charge of your house, shall eate and consume your gaines ab [...]e. Is she beautiful? then your dispence, must be in her disposition, or els her lookes will litle repose you: if she [...]der your goodes, her expences will be great, and her ge [...] [...]ges small, your house shall be stored with costlye [...], & your seruants starued with lack of meate: she will [Page] goe like a Pecock, & you like a meacock: what followeth? in her brauery, she must be séene: if she take the lyberty to walk, shee giueth other occasion to speake, & your selfe to sigh. A faire picture set in the Market place, moueth many to gase: if the counterfet giueth content ment, the crea­ture must néedes delight: and if any view your wife with vnlawfull affection, his practises wil be many to win his desyre. Take héede, you vndertake an intisinge course, which without good order, will make you breathlesse be­fore the midst of your race: you enter into great charge, sée meanes to support it. Your Father liues, and must main­taine his accustomed reputatiō: if he spare to sustaine you, it is much: to defraye the charge, of your Wife and hous­holde, he cannot: therefore so loue, that this dispence may be shared betwéene you, and your wiues Parents: and as far foorth as I can see, Felices Father hath much adde, to kéepe rayne out of his house top: then if with difficultis he lieth drye in his Bed, it is impossible he should haue a­nye great cheare at his Boorde: what reckonyng can you make, to be supported by him that hath it not? and howe can you dare presume, to bée supplyed by your owne Fa­ther? when the timeritie of your marriadge displeaseth him to death. Looke into these mischéeues, before you féele the miseries they presage: looke before you leape, leaste you be wet, before you be a ware: your friendes hath a comfort, but you the benefite of weldooing.

The Schoolemaister gaue Malipiero this aduice, with such a temperate gesture: that (although good counsell pre­uailed not, yet) he reuerently told him, that his experience Loue enioy­neth vs to: do what we kno is amis. knew more, then his gréene imagination could containe: and therefore, he woulde meditate of his louing admoni­tion, and procéede no further without his priuitie. But ah, these weare but swéete wordes so betraye himselfe, and to blinde his friende. For vppon the first oportu­nytie Malipiero spéeds vnto PHILIPPO PROVO­LO, and recountes the importunyties of hys Fréendes, [Page] with a desire to haue the Mariage preuilie solemnised, since that he could not obtaine the open consent of his pa­rentes.

Prouolo, fearing the daunger of delay, was as ready to satisfy, as Malipiero was earnest to request: insomuch as early in a morning, Marco Malipiero, was set in pos­session of his hearts delight: and before night, was dis­possessed Au early ma­riage, work­eth a late re­pentaunce. of his whole bodies welfare: For his sorrowful Father, and heauy friends, hearing of this suddaine Ma­riage, after they had a while bemoned, the rashnes of Maliperio, with the Affection of Parentes, menaced to punish his ouersight (in not regarding him) as Strāgers.

Prouolo, on the other side, to geue knowledge to his Sonne in Lawes frendes, that althoughe Fortune had The rewarde of pryde, is pouertie. crossed him, she had not wholly consumed him: set out his abylytie to the most Aduauntage: much like vnto a Mar­ket Marchant, that on a Newyears Day mornyng, expo­seth his painted tokens, to the ritchest show: His Sonne (in lawe) was accomodated with the Attyre and furny­ture of a Gentleman, and his Wife was set foorth, with the showe, of rich Malipieroes Heires Espouse, and not as poore Prouoloes Daughter: Insomuch, as the common The commō sorte Iudge as they affect. sorte, blinded with showes, iudged after their eyes affec­tion, and reputed old Malipiero a cruel couetous Charle, for dealing with Prouolo so frowardly, that had intrea­ted his Son so honorably. But these murmurings, litle moued the good auncient Knight: for well he wist, this brauerie was but a blase, as soone ended as the flame of a drie Faggot. And which should auenge him, this pride promised a change, attyred with as much pennurie as the other with pompe.

The following effect, confirmed olde Malipieros opi­nion: for Prouolo spent so largely at the beginning, in hope with this florishe; to make accorde betwéene the Sonne and the Father: As nowe his Table was furni­shed with emptie Platters, and his Audit Bagges with The miserye of want. a set of Counters. So that want, that will make a tooth­lesse [Page] woman to bite at Brasen Walles, entred into Pro­uolos House, and swore both him and his whole house­holde vnto the statutes of necessitie: whose lawes were so straite, that although they all had great occasion of so­rowe, they had no leasure for shifting to supplie their wantes: In so much as in shorte time, there was no neighbour, that Prouolo was not in his debt or daunger, and no good natured youth there aboutes, that Marco Malipiero had not boorded or coosoned.

And what shoulde faire Felice doe in this extremitie? liue vpon her husbandes trauel, and be idle her selfe? that were no good Huswiferie: and yet poore Malipiero loued her so dearely, that hee woulde haue ventured vppon a thousande infamies, to maintayne her in the state of an honest Gentlewoman: but although his shiftes helped, they defrayed not her desire to be braue. A Diamond hath not his grace but in golde, nor a fayre Woman, her full commendation but in the ornamentes of brauerie. Braue rye be­longeth to Beautie. So that attyred to her best aduantage, faire Felice would manie times walke, vnto the Piatso Richio, a place where the brauest Gentlemen assembled, & where the fy­nest PIATSO, a market place, or a place of, assembly. deuices were sould: she taking this liberty to walke, bound the gallant yong Gentlemen, in curtesie to Court her: curtuous seruice, is to be accepted with thankes: ac­ceptance of seruice, inlargeth acquaintance acquaintance ingendreth familiarytie: and famylia [...]ie, setteth al Fe­lies abroach: So that, let other Married men take war­nyng, A necessarye note. by Malipieroes hard fortune: for, if their wyues loue gadding, lyke faire Felice, & be inconstant, do want, or finde in their Husbands, miscontentment: Twentie to one, they wil pawn their honours, to please their fancies.

Well, Felice lost nothyng by these Iorneyes: for some one Gallant, would present her with a Ventoie, to coole her selfe: some other, with a Mirrour, to behould her selfe: and some, with Lawnes, Ruffes, Coyfes, and suche neces­saries, Courtesy don with an euill intent. to set out her selfe: & yet vpon no dishonorable con­dition, but (by your leaue) wyth hope of an after fauour.

[Page] This trafique, faire Felice vsed, vntill (amonge a num­ber, that temperately affected her,) Marino Giorgio, the rich Orphant of Capo Verdo immoderately loued her, and withall; the honors of courtisie serued her: But not­withstanding, his lusty personage, might please: his loue­ly countenaunce, might intyce: and his rare wit, passing through a swete tongue, might bewitch a woman in loue: for that Malipiero, was inritched with these perfections: Felice, regarded Marino Georgio, but with an ordinary Disdaine haunteth de­sire. grace: and had it not ben for that Archinchaunter, Golde (perhappes) would neuer haue bene inconstant.

This light account of Felice, inlarged the affection of The fyre of Loue. Marino: for as drincke increaseth the dropsies drowth, s [...] disdaine, heapeth coales vppon desire: whereof Marino, (Teste se ipso) hath leaft an infallible aucthoritie: whose torments were so gréeuous, as the fire: which of al flames, burneth most, and appeareth least, burst out of his mouth, the smoake of such surious sighes, that where he was but late, of a pure Sanguine Complection, hee seemed nowe, nothyng, but Choller adust: So that, his friendes mour­ned, and many moued his strange alteration: who coun­sayled him to take the Physitions aduire: But neither Galen, Hipocrates, nor their Enemie, Panacelsus, could skyl of his cure: so that he was in daunger to haue consumed to Cinders, had nat Macrello, the Physition of Loue, vn­dertaken his helth, who comforted him with many swéete wordes of hope: but, Marino, continually afflicted himselfe Phisicke cu­reth not loue. in recounting an impossibilytie of fauour.

Why (quoth Macrello,) is not your parsonage séemely? Yes: but it doth not please. Is not your face louely? Yes: but it doth not allure. Is not your wyt quicke and good? Yes: but it can not perswade. Is not Felice, a woman? Yes: and more, an Angell.

Well, then (quoth Macrello,) be of good comfort, An­gelles be not cruell, nor stéelie harted.

O (quoth Marino,) but Felice, is constant, and true to her husband, who to continue her affection, is graced with these and many more perfections.

[Page] Yea (quoth Macrello) but hée wanteth one of your théefest beauties.

What one is that (quoth Marino [...]) Euen that, that o­pened the double locked dores of Acrisius brasen Tower, The force of Goulde, and put Iubiter in possession of his daughter Danais loue. And thinke you this Goulden Beautie, will not make a passage in [...]o poore Malipieros Bed Camber? I warrant you yeas: you haue Goulde more at commaundement then I, but I know the vertue better then you.

This short tale quickned dying Marrino, as the flashe of Rose water dooth a sullen swounding Childe.

Wherupon (quoth he) Macrello, if your Medicine be of no lesse vertue to restore my lyfe, then your wordes to geue me hope: the fortune, shall be your profit, as wel as my pleasure.

Well (quoth Macrello) sustaine your selfe with hope, Hope com­forteth but Loue cureth the Louer. and for that your inuention is delicate, deuise you some curious rich Iuell, and let mée alone (quoth hée) bothe to charme and to present it: and so with a remembraunce in the hande, he lest Marino, to contemplate of his loue, and to consider how to recouer his lyfe: who in the ende, concluded to sende faire Felice, the Image of himselfe in Goulde, inameled blacke, his face meager and pale, and by a deuice, the blacke mantell throwne aside, for to ap­peare, the bared Carkasse of Death, with the intrayles Marinos Present to his Mistrisse. consumed, and in the seate of his lyfe, to place Felice, attyred with Diamonds, Rubyes, Emrodes, and other precious Stones, looking vppon his smoking harte, wher­vppon, was written these two bréefes.

This Image made vnto his fancye, he wrote this sol­lowing Letter.

THis letter Sealed, and Subscribed, To the hands of the most faire Felice: Macrello was sent for: to whom Marino deliuered, both the Iuell, and the letter, with out instructions to do his message: for Protheus could not chainge himselfe into moe shapes then Macrello: as well, to auoide suspition, as to compasse his purpose: who beha­ued himselfe so cunningly, in Marinoes errande, as (to be shorte, vertuous Dames) after many perswasions, Felice returned him with this Answere.

THis Letter, was subscribed: Lyfe, to MARINO GEORGIO: and deliuered to the faithfull Ma­crello: with charge, that he should make knowen, his great Importunities, before Felice woulde graunt so hye a fauour: which Prouiso, might haue ben spared: for Ma­crello, (partly for his glorie, but chiefely, for his owne be­nefite) vpon delyuerie of this Letter, willed Marino, to re­ceiue it, as a Conquest as hardly gotten, as Hercules la­bours: and if (quoth he) I had not indured your torments (by Imaginatiō) it had not ben impossible to haue mooued Felice to rueth: Marino, heard these circumstances, with no better remembrance, then if he had ben in an Extasie: The Subscription: Lyfe to Marino: ouercame him with Suddaine ioy or sorrow dul leth our sen­ses. suche a sodayne passion of Ioye, who read, and a hundred times ouer read this Life letter: and for that it came from Felices swéete hand, he a thousand times kissed the Paper.

Which done, by the direction of Macrello, this Conque­rour Gowlde, made suche a passage, into a reputed honest Cytizens House, as, without suspition, Marino Georgio, and fayre Felice, theare (many tymes) mette, but to what purpose, I leaue to your constructions: and yet, thus much Gold maketh passage into difficulte pla­ces. I say: this Fortune followed: Marino, in shorte space, re­couered his former Complection: and it was not long, be­fore Felice was richer, then either Father or Husband.

But, O that Furie Ielousie, enuying this Accord, sent slie Suspition, to infect Malipieroes heart: who pryinge with Lynx his eyes, presented him a thousande causes The vene­mous nature of Ielosye. of mistrust, which loue straite supprest with as manie [Page] contrarie imaginations of his Wiues good behauiour: in­so much, that with the sharp incounter of Loue, and my­strust, poore man, he was continually afflicted.

In conclusion, seeing his Wife to excéede in brauerie, A shrewde sus pition. and knowing himselfe, to declyne with pouertie, he resol­ued vppon this certentie: this cost, coulde not come from the emptie Coffers of her vndone Parentes: and then procéedinge from others, it was impossible to bee the fa­uours of honest curtesie: so that armed with furie, he de­ferred reuenge, but to intrap the friende of his wiues fol­lyes, Suspect is more cun­nyng, then Argus was, warie. and the enymie both of her honour, and his de­lyght.

In fine, as héedefull, as these Louers were in their dealinges, Ielosye directed suspecte, to Marino Georgio: and moreouer, made him an eye witnesse of the iniuries done vnto Malipiero: which when he assuredly knew, hée Neapolitans, are most se­ueare in, re­uenge. studied a while of a torture, equall to this treacherie: for who hath not hard the Neapolitan to bée the seuerest re­venger of dishonor in the world, To be bréese, his bait was this: he fayned a iournay far from home, and furnis­hed him selfe, with such an apparance of trueth, as tooke a way all colour of suspition: whiche done, with a dissemb­ling kysse, hée committed his wife to God, and the charge A Iudas kisse of his house, to her good gouernment: and so set forwarde towards Rome.

Malipiero was no sooner a mile on his way, then Ma­crello certified Marino of this wished oportunitie: and Loue made both him and Felice so boulde, as in his owne house they determyned the followinge night, to exercise vppon Malipiero their wonted iniurie: but about myd­nyght when mistrust was at repose, Malipiero entred A fit time, to deceaue mis­trust. the house with such a sodaine violence, as these two vn­fortunate fréendes, were surprysed amids their imbrace­mēts, before they had warnyng to shift: I sowrrow to tel the rest, but trueth will haue passage.

Malipiero, in his reuenge like a Lyon hungring after [Page] his pray: with his Rapier and these bitter wordes nay­led Marino vnto the Bed. Death is too easie a scurge, for a disloyal wyfe. ‘Thou Couche [ꝙ he] soyled with dishonour, washe out thy staynes, with the Adulterers blood.’ But holding death too easy a scurge for his wiues trespas, hée condēned her to this torture, more extreme then death: Hee made an Anotomy of her welbeloued Marino, & set him in a fayre Chamber, within whiche, hee inclosed his wyfe, w ^tout dooing her any bodely iniurie, saue the cutting of her haire: and to say trueth, this beautifull ornament of haire, beséemeth not an Adultresse head. And to punish her the more, Malipiero caused her euerie dinner & supper to take her accustomed place, y ^t at meales shee might be tor­mented Haire, the or­namentes of Chastytie. with the sighte of her lyuinge enemie, and all the daye with the bones, of her martired friende: neither could she quenche her thirst, but out of a Mazar, made of Marrinoes skull. But (to tell her vertue, with her vice) The boundē office of a Writer. hir patience was suche, as shee was neuer harde to com­plaine of this crueltie: and yet her penitent sorrowe so great, as y ^e plentie of her teares, somtimes moued her in­iured Husbande to pittie.

But least he should be ouercome with compassion, ma­nie Iustice, must not yeald to the teares of Trespassers. times from dinner, hee commaunded her to her pry­son: who after an humble reuerence, went behind the Ta­pestrie Hanginges, and so vnto her solitarie Chamber, barred from other companye, then the gastly bones of vn­fortunate Marino: whiche pennaunce shée patientlye indured, vntyll GOD, who saw y ^t her repentaunce was vnfayned, sent Segnior Cornaro to bée a peace maker God regar­deth repen­taunce. betwéene her Husbandes iniurie, and her offence: who (when Supper was sette vppon the Boorde) séeing from behinde the Tapistrie Hanginges, a fayre Gentlewo­man to appéere, somewhat pale with sorrowe, her head bare, both of attyre and Hayre, apparrelled all in black, and in her hand, her drynking Bowle of Marinoes scul, & saying neuer a word, w ^t a sober reuerēce sitting down in y ^e [Page] chéefest place: was stroken with such a maze, as on the suddayne he wist not what to say.

Dinner being ended, which was longer, then pleasant, either to husbande, wife, or friende: Felice, as she entered so departed. W [...], notwithstanding, leaft part of her so­rowe behinde in Cornaros heart, whose cheareles counte­nance, when Malipiero perceyued (quoth he) let not the martyrdome of this Woman afflicte you: for her fault de­serueth this vengeaunce, and so recounted the reported aduenture: And in aduantage, shewed him her prison and the Annotomie of her dishonour? and withall licensed him A honorable fauour. to talke with Felice, to heare what plée shée had for her discharge. Uppon which warrant, quoth Cornaro, Ma­dame, if your patience be equall with your torment, I holde you the most happie Woman of the worlde. Felice with a countenance abased, and Cheakes dewed with teares tolde him in humble wordes, that her trespasse was tenne times greater, then the torment which the Lorde of the House, whome shée was not [...]worthie to call The true en­signe of sor­rowe. husbande, had appoynted her. And therewithall, the so­row of her hart, tooke away the vse of her tongue. Where­vppon Malipiero, ledde the Gentleman awaye, who rendred him affected thankes, in that, besides his good in­tertaynment, he witsafed him the honour to knowe so great a secreasie: withall, moued with compassion, hee ef­fectually intreated Malipiero, to accept Felices sorrow the true witnes of grace & amendement, as satisfaction of her True repen­taunce, is to be receued in satisfaction of offences. offence, which procéeded of frayltie, and withall importu­ned him, with such earnest reasons as Malipiero was content to sende both for her and his owne friendes. To bee partly ruled, and partly aduised by them in her be­halfe. Perfect loue, cannot be so iniuried, but it will alwais retaine some affection.

The parentes and friendes of euerie side séeing the humilitie, sorowe, and patience, of poore Felice, were all earnest sutors for her remission.

The roote of auncient loue not altogether dead in Ma­lipiero, was comforted with their intercessions, & quicke­ned [Page] with the hope of amendement: in so much, as vppon sollemne promise to be hencefoorth of good behauiour, he re­ceyued her to grace: and to repayre her crased honour, A reparation of dishonour. with the fauour of both their parentes, hee newe marri­ed fayre Felice, in which holy estate, they liued, loued, and agréed manie happie yeares afterwarde together: And with the Bones of Marino Georgio buried the remem▪ brance of former iniuries.

Maister Doctor, quoth Fabritio, you haue reported a verie necessarie Historie: for it contayneth many héedeful notes, both of Amonition, and aduise. Besides the due punishment of rashnesse in Marriage. For therein wee may see howe hungersterued want, compelleth the best natured man to deceiue his friende, and yelde vnto his owne slaunder. Againe, how that monster, Golde, con­quereth the honour of the fayrest. Yea, quoth Isabella, and corrupteth the conscience of the wisest: so that this is no example of any honour to you men, because Golde inti­sed Felice, to be disloyall to her Husbande, for it draweth manie of you, both from the feare and loue of God.

Well, quoth Soranso, let it passe, Felice in her repen­taunce, hath made a large amendes of her trespasse, and I feare me, if euery lyke offence were so sharpely punni­shed, we should haue Mazers of mens Sculles, more ordi­narye then Siluer Boules, and powled Women more common then baulde men.

Not so, quoth Quéene Aurelia: for a fewe of these exam­ples Feare of cor­rection, bride leth the affex cions of the e uill. woulde bridle the incontinent affections both of man and woman, if not for the loue of vertue, for the feare of correction. After these and a fewe other Morrall notes were culled out of Doctor Mossenigos Historie.

Maddam, quoth Don Dolo, if we continue this course, What hurteth one, instu [...] ­eth the other. it will be a good while, before, we doe finde out the Parra­dice, Plato speaketh of.

Be it so, quoth Quéene Aurelia, but if we still conti­nue the way to his House Hel, our errour will instructe others: and since we haue yet long respyte, it shall not [Page] be amisse euerie day to take a sundrie hie way, vntill wée finde out the true passage: And for that our Question is concluded, and our Howre Glasse ronne: we will (for this Daye, make here an ende.

¶ The Question that arose, by behouldyng, the MOWNTIBANKES, in the thirde Nightes Pastime.

AT the accustomed Houre, Supper was ser­ued in with manie daintye Dishes: whiche were saused, with sundrie shorte ciuill, and pleasaunt euentes of the Gentlemen, and Gentlewomens wittes: For he, or shée, was helde of weake capacitie, that either of forestuddie, or, vpon offered occasion, coulde say nothing of good regarde.

In the ende, when Supper was done, and Quéene AVRELIA, and the most Honourable of the compa­nie had taken their places vppon a Scaffolde made for Breuitie, is best, for Ta­ble talke. the nonce, there mounted, a Mountebanke, his necke be­chayned with liue Adders, Snakes▪ Eau'ts, and twentie sundrie kinde of venemous vermines, whose mortall Mountibāks of Italie, are in a maner, as Englysh Pedlers. stinges were taken away by Arte, & with him a Zanni, and other Actors of pleasure: who presented themselues onelie with a single desire, to recreate Segnior Philoxe­nus, and his worthie companie: and not with the intent of common Mountebanckers, to deceyne the people with some vnprofitable Marchandize.

In the middest of this pastime, an auncient Gentle­man (of the generall Societie) séeinge these Uiperous Beastes, by cunninge vsage, to be made so Domesticke and affable, whether it were vppon an impression of his owne greife or of the experience he had of an other mans Plague, I know not; but sure I am, he burst into these passions.

[Page] O GOD, (quoth hee) of what mettell is a Womans tongue, which correction cannot chastise, nor lenitie quiet, The strange nature of a Womans tongue. when these dumbe Serpentes, by the one or the other are tamed?

Marie (quoth a pleasant Companion) it is made of the same mettle, that Virgils Brasen Flayle was off, which strooke both his friendes and foes.

But (quoth the Gentleman) Virgyll knew, & taught others howe to pacifie this engine.

It is (true quoth the other:) but in teaching the secrete vnto his Seruant, coste him his owne life. So a wo­man knowes howe to holde her Tongue, by hauinge of her will, but if a man thinke to stay it, he must beate her to death.

A young Youth named Phrisio, thinking to winne the Spurres, by building a Fortresse for women, who haue Defences, for a chidynge wyfe. no weapons but their tongues, to defend, and offend, tooke vppon him, to prooue a chiding wife, though shee bee a little vnpleasaunt, both profitable and necessarie: his rea­sons were these.

Unsauerie receytes tourne to holsome effectes: The strongest Poyson is pleasaunt in taste, and the remedie for the poysoned, offendeth the mouthe with tartnesse: Nettles that stinges the Hande, maketh Pottage to comforte the heart: the bloude of the Scorpion cureth the biting of the Uiper. If poysoned, vnpleasant, and bitter thinges retaynd a vertue for the benefite of man: in my imagination (quoth hée) an vnquiete wife is not vnpro­fitable though shée bee a little vnpleasaunt:

Her anger kéepeth Seruauntes in awe, and her quick­nesse ouerseeth their negligence: If her tongue runne at ryot, where shée huntes, there is store of abuse, which must be chased either with blowes or wordes: If the furye of her speache offende her Husbande, it is lyke, that) her outrage, groweth from his faulte: And where an iniurie is offered, it is sufferable, yf the wronge bee blamed: [Page] but which maketh a full amendes, for her furious moode: as the clowdy and raynie daie, lightly cleareth towardes night: euen so, though she bitterly scowld at boorde, shée will be sure, to kisse swéetely a bedde.

The auncient Gentlemen, commending the quick wit In blaming, mildnes is to be vsed. of this yong Gentleman, vsed thys circumstaunce before he refelled his error.

Ah (quoth he) if witt were as aduised in Iudgement, as he is ready in censeight: his imaginations, would turne to wonderfull effectes: but as fairest colours soonest staine, as swéetest flowers are blasted with a breath: as beauty­ful creatures, are blemished with a little care, as y ^e brigh­test Sunne threateneth suddaine raine: yea, as euerye mortall thing hath his imperfection: euen so, witt beinge Wit simply is imperfect. mortall, and assigned by Nature, to make man glorious, aboue other creatures, by rashnes, corrupts the ripenes of his conseightes: and to good purpose, his pryde is thus abated: for otherwise, man which enioyeth witt, to wor­shippe his Creator, and to lyue content, with the liberties of the sea, and to kéepe him with in the limits of the earth, woulde search the secreats of heauen: and I thinke, dis­possesse Pluto of hell.

Yong Gentleman (quoth he) I vse not this ceremony to represse your libertie of speache: for the error of youre rashnes, I will refell with reason and experience: but least heareafter you should be as arrogant in opinion, as you are ripe in conseight: I haue thought good, friendlye, and bréefelye to signifie your imperfection: and nowe to aun­swere your late suggestion.

I affirme that Nature hath created nothing to a néed­lesse purpose: but notwithstanding, our abuse, or mischance, changeth hurtefull thinges, into occasions of our healpe: Surfit, and Sicknes only, cōmendeth Medicine: and as you affirme, the bloud of a Scorpion, cureth the biting of the Viper.

But take away the cause, which procéedeth from our gréefe, and you shall finde medicine, an enemye to health: [Page] and the stinge of a Scorpion, no better then death: and trust me, he is to be reckened a foole, and his misfortune to passe vnreléeued, that wilfully indammageth his health in hope of remedy. In like sorte let him liue vnpittyed, to ouersée the slacknesse of his seruaunts, who wyll marry a wife, whose tongue shall ouer-rule himselfe. But more perticularly to discribe the properties of an vnquiet wife, and more largely to discourse the displeasures of her vn­fortunate husband: I will approoue her lowringe, as vn­profitable, as his life is vnpleasaunt: you say her quick­nesse ouerséeth the negligence of seruaunts: but I affirme, that her curstnesse maketh them as swift to runne away, as they were slowe to serue her: and common vse avowes, that often shyfte is neyther beneficyall for Mayster nor Shift, is vn­profitable, for Maister and Ser­uaunt. Seruaunt: for proofe, as the rowling Stone gathereth no Mosse, and want of vse canckereth Iron, in likewise thrifte flyeth the fléeting Seruaunt, and idlenesse consu­meth his abylytie of seruice. Now touching the euill rec­kening of those which are serued: their wanderyng ser­uantes not onely charge their common accountes, with double wages, but with secret pylferyng, they sette theyr Maisters in more déepe arrerages. The Gretians that in tymes paste neither vsed medicyne for sycknesse, nor pa­tience in aduersitye, but vppon euery great veration, poi­soned them selues with venemous Cienta. In their Histo­ries Cienta, a venomous Herbe, one sort wherof is supposed to be Hem­locke. remember more, that haue voluntarily died, through the violence of theyr Wyfes tounges, then of any other calamitye. Diogenes béeyng demaunded the diuersitye in euill, betwéene a Scoulde and a Harlot? aunswered: They differ as the Uiper dooth from the [...]rockaril: for the Scoulde, sayeth he, with outrage destroyeth her Husband, and the other with dissemblyng loue, consumeth hym to death. And so concluded them bothe ennemyes to lyfe, and quiet lyuing of man. Phrisio, beeing bothe modestly war­ned, A needefull regarde for yonge Gentlemē. and throughly aunsweared, with a [...]shefull grace re­plyed: that the grauetye of hys person, and the sounde rea­son in his wordes, had taken from hym, all occasion of fur­ther [Page] Question, vnlesse that Women were his Iudges. This wittie shift mooued such as were within the hea­ring An ill cause asketh a partiall Iudge. to smyle, for where the cause is ill, it is necessarie to séelte a Iudge that is partiall, and which commended Phrisios gouernment, vppon a small check he left to con­tend, with this auncient Gentleman: for yonge men, al­though theyr wittes be good, are not Priuiledged to Dis­pute with the grauer sort, without lycence, intreatie, or great reuerence.

By this time the Mountibanck, with discribing the quallities of his [...]ermin, and the Zanni in showing the [...]tsh conditions of his Maister, had wasted a good part of the night, and wearyed the moste part of the company, so that desyre of repose, sommoned them vnto their lodge­ings.

Pharos Europae, non Africae.

Phyloxenus aduisedly regarded this deuise, before he would either require Ismaritos intent, or giue his owne iudgement. In the end, deuining what should be the secret meaning of this Simbole or Ensigne: quoth he, Segnior Ismarito, this Cognizance of your quicke wit, pleaseth me much, and withall remembreth me of a neglected curtesie, which (I thinke) will showe you the Image of your Phe­nix, and blason the secresie of your whole deuise: and thereuppon he lead Ismarito into a moste curious priuie Gallerie, where (drawing a faire Curtaine, and reuerent­ly kissing his hand) he shewed Ismarito the Picture of a An honou­rable fauor. Royall Princesse, moste ritchly and liuely set foorth, with which a Marchaunt of Venice, who traffiqued toward the Westerne Islands, presented him: which Ismarito beheld, with a regarde so duetifull, as their néeded no glose, to ex­pound the zealous affection of his heart. And by her was stalled a goodly Gentleman, Crowned with a Scepter, whom Ismarito knew not, other wise thē by imagination, in beholding his Armes, who bare Gu. an Eagle displaied Crowned Ar.

And (ꝙ Phyloxenus,) when I followed the Frenche Court, I admyred a young Prince of rare towardlinesse, whose counterfeit at my departure I brought with me, and there withall shewed Ismarito a Picture, which he ve­rye well knew, and in it were written in Charracters, these thrée woordes: Hercules Franciscus valesius. And by this Prince stoode an other counterfeit, whose Armes Ismarito forgot, but well he remembred his Posie was, Ie le meintiendray. The counterfeits of other Potentates there were, which Philoxenus placed in the ranck of these Princes, for some regarded vertues, knowne vnto him­selfe. And by his owne testimonie, he prised these coun­feits, [Page] abooue all the Monuments (auncient or Moderne) which beautified his Pallace.

Upon which warrant, Sir, ꝙ Ismarito, the Honourable A regard in straun­gers, to teache Subiectes their dutie. regarde that you haue of these Princes shaddowes, bée­ing a strainger, prescribeth rules of dutie, vnto theyr Subiectes, humbly to reuerence their sacred Persons.

In d [...]e quoth he, it is but iust, their tongues crie, God saue their Highnesse, and theyr hearts aunswer, So be it.

After Segnior Philoxenus and Ismarito had had some conference, as well touching the meaning of this Pharos, as of some other deuises figured in Philoxenus Booke: the Trumpets sound, gaue knowledge of Dinner: so that this priuate conference was adiorned, till Segnior Philoxenus pleasure should renue it. When Ismarito entered into the great Chamber, and among so many fayre Flowers, missing the glorious Rose, his countenaunce well showed, The Rose is the most glorious of Flovvers. that his mornings sorrowe had béene but a sléepe, which new awakened, streaked with the increase of passion, yea such was the pensiuenesse of the whole company, as the fyrst seruice, represented rather a Funerall Dinner, then a Christmas feaste. But in the mydest of a storme, as Phe­bus An vnex­pected good nevves, is double vvelcome. sometymes behouldeth the Earth, with a cheerefull countenaunce, so in the deapth of this heauines, there was newes brought of Queene Aurelias amendment, who commaunded the chosen company, after Dinner, to attend her comming, in the chamber of pleasure. This knowledg so quickned the duiled spyrytes of the Gentlemen, and Gentlewomen, as they agréed, for one day (if Queene Au­relia pleased) to alter the sollemne course in theyr ordena­rie exercyse: for where the malladie is not mortall, mirth Myrthe cureth as much as Medicine, vvhere the malladie is not mor­tall. cureth as much as medicine, and boulding this determy­nacion, they, the rest of Dinner, in actions of pleasure, ful­lie auenged themselues of the iniurie of former sorrowe. After Dinner was ended, and the company had a while pawsed, to set themselues in good order: vpon a new som­mons, the appointed number, martched into this Cham­ber of Pleasures, which was hanged with a ritche Ta­pistrie [Page] of voluntarie deuise, euery Trée, Flower, Byrde, A sumptu­ous Ta­pistrie. Beaste, or what someuer was therein resembled, in his proper coloures of Silke, was portrayed. The Shéeue with theyr Fléeces fryzeled, the Beastes curiously raysed with rawe Silke, like vnto theyr naturall heayre, the Trées beautified with proper leaues and fruite, the Rose with his Buds, Sprigs, and other attyre: and to be bréefe, euery other Flower was counterfaited with such Arte, as they séemed to be naturall. Yea a man might haue Men may be decei­ued vvith out the slaunder of simply­citie. béene indifferently wise enough, in other ordinarie mat­ter, and yet haue aduentured to haue gathered a Flower, or haue plucked an Apple, in these hangings, and who so was best acquainted, could not wearie his eyes in the be­holding of them: so that the very attyre of this Chamber walles, had an intertaining vertue, were there no other Curious sights, please more then vnciuill people. creature in the place.

Quéene Aurelia attended with the Ladyes and Gen­tlewomen, presented her selfe, before the younge Gentle­men had halfe gazed theyr will. The company saluted theyr Soueraigne with a reuerent curtesie, whose chéekes, some what more bleake then ordinary, with this A lyttle sicknesse maketh an alteration in beautie. distemperature, resembled in colloure the perfect white Gilliflowre, a little streaked with Carnation.

After some priuate talke betwéene her, and one or two of her fauoured Seruaunts, she tooke her place where she pleased, and the rest as they were accustomed, which doone, the Eunick with a well tuned voyce, vnto the Lute, Songe this following, Care away.

The note of this Songe, was farre better then the Dit­ty, but for that it aunswered the determination of the com­pany, it passed for currant: whereupon, Maddame (quoth Fabritio) if it be your pleasure, we wyll this day varrie from our wonted course, and according to our Theame, begin with some myrthe, to sharpen our wittes: for gra­uer discourses, we haue time inough besides, to beate out One square breaketh no custome. the passage to Platoes Paradise.

Use your discressions quoth Quéene Aurelia, and by her commaundement Bergetto was appointed to begin the exercise, who obaying, reported this following aduen­ture, of Fryer Inganno.

¶ The aduenture of Fryer Inganno, reported by Mounsier Bergetto.

IN a little Village among the Appenine Mountaynes not far frō the place, where S. Fraunces lyeth in [...]ombed, There sometymes dwelled a fayre younge countery wo­man named Farina: and for that her house was in the hye waie, to S. Fraunces holy relykes, she was many tymes visyted with Friers of his order, who were intertayned. [Page] rather for their habyt, then their honestie: for the poore ig­norant people, reuerenced Sainct Fraunces, as a seconde Christe, for whose sake, they hould his Disciples, not in­feriour to Saincts: amonge manye that visited Farinas house, Fryer Inganno, a smugge Chapleine, euer sealed his blessings, vppon his dames lippes, and yet, without suspicion of the husband, or▪ dishonest intent of the wife: It is saide, S. Frances sub­dued inconti­nent desires, by tumbling naked in frost and Snowe. for such gréeting was euer taken for a holly fauour.

Uppon a time, after Fryer Inganno, had wel beaked himselfe, with a warme fire, and a good breakefast, the spirit that saint Fraunces, was driuen to coniure downe, by tumbling naked in the frost and snowe, tempted his Disciple with suche swéete motions, as he was mynded willfully to abiure heauen, rather then to deale so rough­ly A premidita­ted sinne. with the deuill. And taking aduantage, of the good o­pinion, the ignoraunt, heald of his holynes: and was so bould, with saicte Fraunces (his Maister) as to make a The tricke of a knauish Ser­uaunt. wanton match in his name: so that after he had a while considered, of his perswasion, vppon a quiet oportunitie: Blessed art thou (ꝙ he) among the Appenine countrey­wemen, for Sainct Fraunces, from Heauen, hath behelde A gentle per­swasion. thy charitable vsage of his Disciples, and the last Night after, I had prayed with great deuotion, before his I­mage, I behelde him in the Maiestie of an Angell, fayre yonge, lustie, and in euery proportion like my selfe, and nothyng at all, like his meagre Cripple Image: So that I was in doubt, of beynge transfourmed out of my selfe, tyll with a méeke voice, he sayd: Be not dismayde, I am thy Maister, Inganno, and am come, to bestow my bles­singes vpon the good Appenine dames, that for my sake cherish you, my Disciples: But with an especiall Affec­tion, I wil visite the good Dame Farina: And for that, her Feminine weakenes, can not indure my Heauenly pre­sence, I wyll many times borrowe thy earthly shape: and in my name, go salute Farina, and showe her, that this night, in that her Husbande is from home, I meane to visite her: wyll her to leaue open the Doores, because [Page] I purpose to come as Fryer Inganno, and not as Saint Fraunces.

This is his message, therfore, as I began, I end: bles­sed Igno [...]aunce heareth euery tale as trueth. art thou among the Appenine countrie Dames: The poore woman, as apparant as this trecherie was, had not the power to mistrust, but gaue the Fryer a good almes Flatterie ea­teth the bread of the Iust. for his newes, and saide she would attende Saint Fraun­ces blessed will.

Away goeth the Fryer, with a light hart and a heauy Cowle: but God, to punish his lewde intent, & to preserue her from sinnyng through ignoraunce, so tyckled her hart with ioy, of this blessinge at hande, as to welcome Saint A note of li­tle secreacy in a woman. Fraunces shée must néedes haue the Belles roonge: The Prieste of the Parrishe hearing the cause, smelt out the Fryers counning, and was glad to take one of those Beg­gers in a Pitfall that with glorious lyes, had robbed him Enuy setteth hatred be­tweene fel­lowes of eue­ry vocation. of his Parishioners deuotions, and withall, perswaded her with suche reasons, as shee was fully resolued of the Fryers deceite: And to bée adnenged, by the Parsons di­rection, shée caused Leayda to lye in her Bed, a Mayde so ougly, sluttish and deformed, as thorough the Parish, shée was called, the Furie of Lothsomnesse. Aboute ten of the Clocke, findynge the Doores open, Frier Inganno mountes into Farinas Chamber, and without light or leaue, leaps into her bed: but hée had not blessed Leaydaes lyppes, before the Priest, Farina, and others, entred with An vnwel­come saluta­tion. Taper and Torchlighte, singing Salue Saincte Francisce: And knéeling about his Bed sides, sung, Sancte Francisce, ora pro nobis.

The poore Fryer, lyke a For in a grin, being both in­trapt, and imbraste by a Hag of Hel, cryed from his hart: Pleasure in o thers increa­seth sorrow in the afflic­ted.

After the Prieste and the rest of the companye, were wearye of laughinge: and the Fryer almost dead with wéeping: It is an office of Charitie (quoth the Priest) to put Saint Frances againe in his Tumbe: for it is so long [Page] since hée was in the Worlde, that he hath forgot the way Enuy, and rude people, are not passi­fyed with praiers of the afflicted. backe, into Heauen.

The Fryer learing lyke the Théefe, that honge on the left side of Christe, tooke all with patience: for well hee wyst, Prayer booted not.

Well, for that night, they bounde and stript him, lyke a dead Coarse: and in stead of swéete Flowers, laid him Rude people extreame re­vengers. in a bundell of Nettles.

The next mornyng, the rude Countrie people (who in reuenge are without ciuyllytie or order) cruelly scourged the poore Fryer. And (setting hym the forenoone naked in the Sunne) annoynted his bodie with Honey: so that the Hornets, Waspes and Flyes, tormented him with the paynes of Hell.

In the afternoone, with a hundred Torches, Tapers, and other waxen lyghtes: this rustick multitude, caryed seconde Saint Fraunces vnto his Tumbe: and had not other Fryers vsed mylde & plawsible requests, in his be­half, The best way to win the commu­naltie. they would surely haue buried him aliue: for threat­ning, increaseth a tumult: when faire wordes, may per­aduenture staye it.

The poore Fryer discharged from the handes of these vngentle people, learned afterwardes to be more warie: but for all this punishment, was nothinge the honester. For amonge men of his Habit, remayneth an opynion, that the faultes, whiche the Worlde séeeth not, GOD punnisheth not.

After the Company had wel laughed at Fryer Ingan­noes, pennaunce, Quéene Aurelia axed maister Doctor, the Archedetracter of Women, how many suche stories he had read of the religious Dames?

None (quoth hée) that hath beene so sorely punished, but of an number that haue as hyghly trespassed.

What (quoth Helena Dulce) by suche subtyll prac­tises? Men offende subtilly, and women sim­ply,

No (ꝙ the Doctor) but through simple affection.

[Page] Well (quoth Aluisa Vechio, their euyls are written in their foreheades, that slaunderous mens tongues may W [...]s euyls are w [...]yt in their forheds. reade and inlarge them. And your great euils are bu­ried in the bottome of your hartes that vnlesse the Deuill meane to shame you, the worlde knoweth not how to Mens faultes, lye hydde in their hartes. blame you.

This was the Gentlewomens day, wherefore the ci­uill Gentlemen, would not offer to crosse them much: so that following their aduantage, Madam (quoth Isabella,) with your fauour and patience, I will reporte an Histo­rie, that shall open suche a haynous trecherie done by a A ciuill cur­tesie in a Gen telman. man, as shall take away all possibilytie from a woman to commit so impious an Act.

Quéene Aurelia, willed her to procéede, and the whole company séemed to be attentiue: whereupon Isabella re­ported as followeth.

The rare Historie of Promos and Cassandra, reported by Madam ISABELLA.

AT what time CORVINVS the scourge of This Historie for rarenes therof, is liue­ly set out in a Cōmedie, by the Reporter of the whole worke, but yet neuer presen­ted vpō stage. the Turkes, rayned as Kinge of Bohemia: for to well gouerne the frée Cities of his [...]ealme, hée sent diuers worthy Maiestrates. Among the rest, he gaue the Lorde Promos the [...]auntship of [...]: who in the begin­ning of his gouernment, purged the Cittie of many an­cient vices, and seuerely punished new offenders.

In this Cittie, there was an olde custome (by the suf­fering of some Maiestrates, growne out of vse) that what man so euer cōmitted [...]e, should lose his head: And y ^e woman offender should euer after be infamously noted, by the wearing of some disguised apparrell: For the man was helde to bee the greatest offender, and therefore had A hard Lawe for [...]nconti­nent persons. the seuerest punishment.

Lorde Promos, with a rough execution, reuiued this Statute, and in the hyess degrée of iniurie, brake it hym­selfe, [Page] as shall appeare by the sequell of Andrugioes ad­uentures.

This Andrugio by the yéelding fauour of fayre Po­lina, trespassed against this ordinaunce, who through en­uie, was accused, and by Lorde Promos condemned, to suffer execution.

The wofull Cassandra, Andrugioes Sister, prostrates her selfe at Lorde Promos Féete, and with more teares then wordes, thus pleaded for her Brothers lyse.

Most noble Lorde, and worthy Iudge, voutchsafe, mée the fauour to speake, whose case is so desperate, as vnlesse you beholde mée with the eyes of mercie, the frayle tres­passe, of condemned Andrugio my Brother, will bée the death of sorrowfull Cassandra, his innocent Sister. I wil not presume, to excuse his offence, or reproche the Lawe of rigor: for in the generall construction, hee hath done most euill, & the Law hath iudged but what is right: But (reuerent Iudge, pardon y ^t necessitie maketh mée here tel, Lawe adiud­geth, by the generall of­fence. that your wisdome already knoweth.) The most Soue­raigne Iustice, is crowned with Laurell, although shée bée gyrt with a Sword: And this priueledge shée giueth vnto her Administrators: that they shall mitigate the se­ueretie of the Law according to y ^e quallyty of the offence. Iustice, ismo [...]s renowned by lenytie, then seueritie. Then, that Iustice bée not robbed of her gratious pitty, listen Good Lorde Promos, to the nature of my Brothers offence, and his able meanes to repayre the iniurie. Hée hath defyled, no Nuptiall Bed, the stayne wherof disho­noureth the guy [...]lesse Husband: Hée hath committed no violent Rape. In which Act the iniuried Mayde can haue no amends. But with yéelding consent of his Mistresse, Andrugio hath onlye sinned through Loue, and neuer ment but with Marriage to make amendes.

I humbly beséeche you to accept his satisfaction, and A good cause to mooue pytie. by this Example, you shall be as much beloued for your clemencye, as feared for your seueritie. Andrugio shalbe well warned, and hée with his Sister wofull Cassandra, shall euer remayne, your Lordships true Seruantes.

[Page] Promos eares were not so attentiue, to heare Cassan­dras ruethful tale, as his eyes were settled to regarde her excellent Beautie. And Loue, that was the appoincted Loue, fauou­reth no degre Headsman of Andrugio, became now the Soueraigne of his Iudges thought. But because he would séeme to bri­dle his passions, he aunswered: fayre Damsell, haue pa­tience, you importune me with an impossybylytie: he is condempned by Lawe, then without iniurie to Lawe, he can not be saued. Princes Pre­rogatiue, are aboue Lawe.

Princes and their Deputies Prerogatiues (quoth she) are aboue y ^e Lawe, Besides, Lawe, truelie construed, is but the amends of Iniurie: and where, the faulte may bee The true in­tent of the Lawe. valued, and amendes had, the Breache of Lawe is suffi­ciently repayred.

[...]uoth Lorde Promos, your passions mooueth more then your proofes: and for your sake, I wyll repriue An­drugio, A good turne vpon an euyl cause. and studie how to do you ease, without apparant breache of Lawe.

Cassandra, recomforted, with humble thankes recey­ued his fauoure, and in great haste goeth too participate Aucthorytie, in euyll Ma­iestrates, is a [...] Scourge vnto the good. this hope, with her dying Brother: But oh, that Auctho­rytie, should haue power, to make the vertuous to [...] a­misse, as well, as throughe Correction, to enforce the vici­ous to fall vnto goodnesse.

Promos, is a witnes of this Priuiledge: who not able to subdue his incontinent loue, and (withal) resolued, that Cassandra would neuer be ouer come, with fayre wordes, large promises, or riche rewardes: demaunded the spoyle A monstrous request. of her Uirginitie, for raunsome of her Brothers lybertie.

Cassandra, ymagyned at the first, that Lorde Promos, vsed this speache, but to trie her behauiour: Aunswered hym so wisely, as if he had not ben the Ryuall of Uertue, V [...]lesse they be reprobate, good Exam­ples, may re­fourme the wicked. he could not but haue suppressed his lewve Affection, and haue subscribed to her iust petition: But to leaue circum­staunces, Promos was fiered with a vicious desyre, which must be quenched with Cassandraes yeldyng loue, or Andrugio must dye.

Cassandra, mooued with a chaste disdayne, departed, [Page] with the resolution, rather to dye her selfe, then to stayne her honour: And with this heauie newes, gréeted her con­demned Brother: poore man, alas, what should he do? Life was swéete: but to be redéemed with his Sisters Infa­mie, could not, but be alwayes vnsauerie.

To perswade her to consente, was vnnaturall: too yealde to Death, was more gréenous.

To choose the leaste of these euylles, was difficult: to A hard choice of two euyls. studie long was daungerous.

Fayne would he lyue, but Shame cloased his mouth, when he attempted to perswade his Sister.

But Necessytie, that maistereth both Shame & feare, brake a passadge for his imprysoned intent.

Swéete Cassandra, (quoth he) that men loue, is vsuall, but to subdue Affection, is impossyble: and so thornie are the motions of incontinent Desire, as to finde ease, the The force of Necessytie. tongue is only occupied to perswade. The Purse, is euer open to entice, and wheare neither words nor Giftes can corrupt (with the mightie) force shall constrayne, or dis­pight, The force of Loue. auenge. That Promos do loue, is but iust, thy Be­autie commaundes hym. That Promos be refused, is more iust, because Consent is thy Shame.

Thou maiste refuse and lyue: but he beynge reiected, I die: For wantyng his wyll in thée, he wyll wreake his téene on mée.

This is my hard estate: My lyfe, lieth in thy Infamie, and thy honour in my death. Which of these euylles be leaste, I leaue for thée to iudge.

The wofull Cassandra, answered: that Death, was A hard For­tune, the leaste: whose Darte, we can not shunne: when Ho­nour, in Deathes dispight, outlyueth tyme.

It is true (quoth Andrugio,) but thy Trespasse, wyll be in the leaste degrée of blame: For, in forced Faultes, Death is to be preferred, be­fore dishon [...] ­rable lyfe. Iustice sayth, there is no intent of euyll.

Oh Andrugio, (quoth she) Intent, is now adayes, ly­tle considred: thou art not cōdemned by the intent, but by [Page] the strickt worde of the Law: so shall my crime bée repro­ched, and the forced cause passe vnexcused: and such is y ^t ve­nome The vene­mous nature of Enuy. of Enuye, one euill déede shall disgrace ten good turnes: and in this yéelding, so shall I be valued: Enuye, Disdaine, Spight, Mallice, Sclaunder, and many moe fu­ries The vertuous are assured of many ene­mies, and in­certaine of a­ny friendes. will endeuour to shame mée, and the meanest vertue, [...]uyll blush to help to support my honour: so that I sée no lybertie for thée but Drath, nor no ease for mée but to ha­sten my ende.

O yes (quoth Andrugio, for if this offence be known, thy fame will bée enlarged, because it will lykewise bée knowne, that thou receauedst dishonor to giue thy Bro­ther A cause that may excuse the breach of honour. lyfe: If it be secreat, thy Conscience wyl be without scruple of guiltinesse. Thus, knowne, or vnknowne, thou shalt be deflowred, but not dishonested, and for amends wée both shall lyue.

This further hope remaineth, that as the Gilliflower, both pleaseth the eye and feedeth the sence: euen so the vertue of thy chast behauiour may so grace thy bewty, as Promos silthie lust, may bee turned into faithfull loue: A faint hope. and so moue him, to salue thy honour in making thée hys wife. Or for conscience, forbeare to doe so heynous an in­iurie.

Soueraigne Maddame, and you faire Gentlewomen, (quoth Isabella) I intreate you in Cassandras behalfe, these reasons well wayed, to iudge her yéelding a con­strainte, and no consent: who werie of her owne life, and tender ouer her brothers, with the teares of her loue­ly eyes, bathed his Chéekes, with this comfortable sen­tence.

Lyue Andrugio, and make much of this kisse, which breatheth my honour into thy bowels: and draweth the infamie of thy first trespasse into my bosome. A louyng kys

The sharpe incounters betwéene life and death, so oc­cupied Andrugio sences, that his tongue had not the ver­tue, to bid her fare well. To greeue you with the hearing of Cassandras secreate plaints, were an iniurie: vertuous [Page] Ladies, for they concluded with their good fortune, and e­uerlasting fame: But for that her offence grew neyther of frayltie, frée wyl, or any motion of a Woman, but by y ^e A good con­sideration in Cassandra. méere inforcement of a man, because she would not staine the modest wéedes of her kynde, shee attired her selfe in the habit of a Page, and with the bashfull grace of a pure Virgin, shee presented wicked. Promos, Andrugioes pre­cious ransome.

This Deuill, in humaine shape, more vicious then Hyliogabalus of Rome: and withall, as cruell as Denis A damnabl [...] offence. of Sicyll: receaued this Iuell with a thousande protesta­tions of fauour. But what should I say? In the begin­nyng of his loue, Promos was metamorphosed into Pri­apus: and of a Féende what may we expect? but venge­aunce heaped vpon villany. And therefore, let it not séeme straunge, that after this Helhound, had dishonoured Cas­sandra, hée sent his warrant, to the Gayler pryuely, to ex­ecute Andrugio, and with his head crowned with these two Bréefes, in Promos name, to present Cassandra: A villanous Ingratitude.

This was his Charge, whose cursed wyll had ben ex­ecuted, had not God by an especiall prouidence, at the howre of his Death, possessed Andrugio with the vertues An especiall prouidence of God. of the two braue Romanes, Marcus Crassus, and Mari­us, the one of whiche, by the force of his tongue, and the other by the motions of his eyes, caused the Axe to fall out of the Headsmans hand, and mollyfyed his cruell mynde.

With lyke compassion, the Gayler (in hearinge An­drugios hard aduenture) left his resolution: And vppon a solempne othe, to liue vnknowne, yea to his deare Sister, he gaue him life, and in the dead of the night, betooke him to God, and to good fortune: which done this good Gayler A signe of an honest nature tooke the head of a yonge man newe executed, who some­what resembled Andrugio: and according to lewde Pro­mos commaundement made a present thereof to Cassan­dra. [Page] How vnwelcome this Present was, the testimonie of her former sorowes somewhat discouer: but to giue her present passion a true grace, were the taske of Pro­metheus, An vnwel­come present or such a one as hath had experience of the an­guishes of hell.

O quoth shée, swéete Andrugio, whether shall I firste lament thy death? exclaime of Promos iniurie? or be­mone my owne estate, depriued of honour? and which is worse, cannot die, but by the violence of my owne hands. Alas, the least of these gréefes, are to heauie a burden for a man, then all ioyned in one poore womans hearte, can not be eased but by death: and to be auenged of iniuri­ous Fortune, I wil forthwith cut my Fillet of life. But so shall Promos lewdnesse escape vnpunished: what re­medie? I am not of power to reuenge: to complayne, I expresse my owne infamie, but withal, proclaime his vi­lanie: and to heare his lewdnes reproued, woulde take away the bitternesse of my death. I will goe vnto the King, who is iust and mercifull, hée shall heare the ruth­full euents of Promos Tyrrannie: and to giue him exam­ple of vengeaunce, I will seale my complaintes with my dearest bloode.

Continuing this determination, Cassandra buried her imagined brothers heade, and with spéed iornyed vn­to King Coruinus Court: Before whose presence when shée arriued, her mourninge Attyre, but especially her modest countenaunce moued him to beholde her with an especiall regarde.

Cassandra (vppon the graunt of audience) with her eyes ouercharged with teares, reported, the alreadie dis­coursed A mischiefe well preuen­ted. Accidentes, with suche an apparaunce of gréefe, as the King and his Attendants were astonied to heare her: and sure had shée not béen happily preuented, shée had concluded her determination, with chast Lucretias desti­ny. The King comforted her with many gratious words & promised to take such order, y ^t (although he could not A noble ffa­uour. be reuiued) her brothers death should fully be reuenged, [Page] and her crased honour, repayred, withoute blemysh of her former reputation.

Cassandra, vpon these comfortable wordes, a lytell succoured her afflicted hart, and with patience, attended the Iustice of y ^e King: who with a chosen companie, made a Progresse to Iulio, and entred the Town, with a sem­blaunce A necessarie pollye of great fauour towardes Promos: by that co­lour, to learne what other corrupte Maiestrates, ruled in the Cittie: for well he knewe, that Byrdes of a feather, would flie together, and wicked men would ioyne in Af­fection to boulster each others euil.

After this gratious King, had by heedfull intelligence vnderstoode the factions of the people, vnlooked for of the Magisrates, he caused a proclamation to be published: in which was a clause, that if anie person coulde charge a­nie Magistrate or Officer, with anie notable or haynous offence, Treason, Murder, Rape, Sedition, or with any A Ryal grace such notorious Crime: where they were the Iudges of the multitude, hee woulde himselfe bee the Iudge of them, and doe iustice vnto the meanest.

Uppon this Proclamation it was a hell to heare, the exclamations of the poore, and the festered consciences of The clamors of the poore, and the con­sciences of the rich, like Hell. the rich, appeared as lothsome, as the Riuer of Stix.

Among manie that complayned, and receiued iudge­mēt of comfort, Cassandras Processe was presented, who lead betwéene sorrow and shame, accused Promos to his face.

The euidence was so playne, as the horrour of a guil­tie conscience reaued Promos of all motions of excuse: so Sorrowe and Shame, the Attendantes of Cassandra. that holding vp his hande, among the worst degrée of théeues, the litle hope that was least, moued him to con­fesse the crime, and with repentance so sue for mercy.

O (quoth the King) such espetial mercy were tyrannie An vnusual place for a Iudge. to a common wealth. No Promos no, Hoc facias alteri, quod tibi vis fieri: You shall be measured with the grace you bestowed on Andrugio.

[Page] O God (quoth hée) if men durst bark as Dogges, ma­nie a Iudge in the world would be bewrayed for a théefe: A necessarie regarde in a Prince, It behoueth a Prince to know to whom hee committeth Authoritie, least the Sword of Iustice, appointed to cha­sten the lewde, wound the good: & where good subiects are Princes beres the blamr or euyll Officsrr extortion. wronged, euill Officers receaue the benefit, and their Soueraignes beareth the blame.

Well, wicked Promos, to scourge thy impious offen­ces, I héere giue sentence, that thou foorthwith marry Cas sandra, to repayre her honour by thée violated', & that the next day thou lose thy head, to make satisfaction for her A iust Iudge­ment. Brothers death.

This iust Iudgement of the good Kinge, in the first point, was foorthwith executed: But sacred is the Autho­ritie, that the vertues of the good, are a Shéelde vnto the The good pro­tect the lewde lewde: So swéete Cassandra, who (simply) by vertue ouer­came the spight of Fortune: In this marriadge was char­ged with a new assault of sorrow: and preferring the du­tie of a wife, before the naturall zeale of a Sister, where The duetie of a wyfe, truely showen. she before prosecuted, the reuenge of her Brothers death, shée now was an humble suter to the Kinge for her Hus­bands lyfe.

The gracious Kinge, sought to appease her with good words, but hée could not do her this priuate fauour, with­out The comon weale, is to be regarded be­fore priuate a [...] our. iniurie vnto the publyke weale: for though (quoth he) your sute be iust, and the bounden dutie of a wife, yet I in fulfillyng the same should do iniustly, & (generally) iniure my Subiects: and therfore, good Gentlewoman, haue pati­ence, and no doubt vertue in the ende will giue you pow­er ouer all your afflictions.

There was no remedie, Cassandra must departe, out of hope, to obtayne her sute. But as the experience, is in dayly vse, the dooinges of Princes post through the world Siue bonum, fiue malum, Fama est. on PEGASVS backe: And as theyr actions are good or badde, so is their fame. With the lyke spéede, the Kynges Iustice, and PROMOS execution was spred abroad: and by the songe of a Clowne, was blowen into [Page] Andrugioes eates, who tyll then lyued lyke an Outlawe in the Desart wooddes.

But vpon these Newes, couertly, in the Habyt of an Good moti­ons, pro [...] fi [...] the [...] and eu [...] the flesh. Hermyt, by the Diuine motion of the sowle, who directes vs in thinges that be good, and the Flesshe in Actions of euyll, Andrugio, goes to sée the Death of his Capitall enemie: But on the other parte, regardyng the sorrow of his Sister, he wisshed him lyfe, as a friende.

To conclude, as well to geue terrour to the lewde, as comfort to his good Subiectes, the kyng [...] (personallie) came to sée the execution of Promos,: who, garded with Offi­cers, and strengthened with the comfortable perswasions of his Ghostly Fathers: Among whom, Andrugio was, méekely offered his lyfe, as a satisfaction for his offences, which were many more, then the Lawe tooke knowledge A gratefull parte. of: And yet, to say the trueth, suche was his Repentance, as the multitude did both forgeue and pittie him: yea, the King wondred that his lyfe was gouerned with no more vertue, consideryng the grace he showed at his death.

Andrugio, behouldyng this ruethfull Spectackle, was so ouercome with loue towardes his Sister, as to giue her comfort, he franckly consented anew to emperill his own life: And followinge this Resolution, in his Hermyts wéede, vpon his knées, he humblye desired the Kinge too giue hym leaue to speake. The Kyng (gratiously) graun­ted hym Audience. Whervpon (quoth he) regarded So­ueraigne, if Lawe may (possibly be satisfied: Promos true Repentance, meritteth pardon.

Good Father (quoth the King) he can not liue, and the Lawe satisfied, vnlesse (by Miracle) Andrugio be reuined. Murther as­keth death, and no other Satisfaction.

Then (quoth the Hermyt, if Andrugio lyue, the Law is satisfied, and Promos discharged.

I (quoth the King,) if your Praier can reuiue the one, my mercie shall acquite the other.

I humbly thanke your Maiestie (quoth Andrugio) and discoueryng himselfe, shewed the Prouidence of God and the meane of his escape: and tendrynge his Sisters [Page] comfort, aboue his owne safetie, hee prostrated him selfe at his Maiesties Féete: humblye to obay the sen­tence of his pleasure. The Kinge vppon the reporte of this straunge Aduenture: after good deliberation, pardoned Promos, to kéepe his worde, and withall, houl­dyng Princes are bounde to their word. an opinyon, that it was more benefitiall for the Ci­tezens, to be ruled by their olde euell gouernour, new re­fourmed, then to aduenture vppon an newe, whose beha­uiours were vnknowne: And to perfect Cassandras ioye, O [...] two, the least euill is least daun­gerous. he pardoned her Brother Andrugio, with condition, that he should marrie Polina. Thus, from betwéene y ^e téethe of daunger, euerypartie was preserued, and in the ende esta­blyshed in their hartes dessre.

Madam (quoth Soranso) your good conclusion, hath like­wise Ruthfull [...] tales, raiseth remorce in the hearers. preserued vs from a great daunger: for had you en­ded with the sorrow you began, wee had béene all like to haue bene drowned in teares.

Indéede (quoth Katharina Trista) you men had, had cause sufficient of sorrowe, by hearing your kynde repro­ched with such monstrous euils: and we women frée pas­sage to lament, in behoulding none but crosse fortunes to By example of euill, the euill are fea­red. succéede the good indeuours of a vertuous Ladie.

It is true (quoth Fabritio) but to participate of their ioye, wee men haue learned out of Promos example of e­uil, By example of the good, the good are strengthned. for feare of his likelie punishment of euil, to doo well: and you Women, by example of Polinas vice, and Cas­sandras vertue, are both warned and incouraged to wel­dooing.

Indéede (quoth Quéene Aurelia, there are many Mo­rall precepts in either Historie, to be considered: whiche I Good order is to bee kept among such as [...]aue bene la [...]e sick. hope the company haue so regarded, as there néedeth no repetition. And further, because I will not be to bould of the victorie, ouer my late distemperature: we will heare ende: And therwith she rose, & retired into her Chamber: with charge that the company should attende her, in the same place, vntil Supper, who obaying, intertained time, euery one with their speciall fancy.

The Question that arose at Supper vpon the fourth Dayes exercise.

MAny prettie nyps, passed (betweene the retyred Companye) this Night at Supper, as [...] Gentlewomens parte, as of the Gentlemens. [...] as presumyng vpon this Daies honour (when the [...] was readie to be taken away.)

Aluisa vechio, tooke vpon her, to mayntaine a woman, to be a creature euery way, as execellent and perfe [...] [...] Man. For naturall shape (quoth she) they are more [...] tifull, of a better temperature, and complection then [...] In valiaunt exploytes, what difference was there [...] twéene Semiramis and her Husbande Ninus? betw [...] the Amazon women and Alexender. For constantnesse of mind, did not Loadice imbrace deathe, with lesse feare, [...] men. then Mithridates her Husband, Asdruballes Wife, then Asdrubal himselfe. And what man hath kept a constant resolution of death, so long as Lucretia. In Morall ver­tues, you men that reade Histories and Cronicles of all ages, shall finde Women, renowmed for learnyng, Go­uernment, and pollycie. In Mecanycall Artes, there are Women, lykewise experienced. In the vertue of Deui­ning, what man hath come neare the Sibels? To bee shorte, what Man hath bene so perfect in any ver­tue: but Histories make mention of a woman as perfect?

Yea (quoth Dondolo) but there be so few of these wo­men, as an easy wit may remember them. Cauclers ne­uer answere directly.

But it will cumber your Tong to report them (quoth Katharina Trista.

The other Gentlemen although they were willlinge to giue place vnto the Gentlewomē in small matters, yet A disgrace in honour, a Gentleman may not beare with. this comparison of equal soueraignty, netteled them a ly­til. In as much, as Soranso aunswered. Madam Aluisa, you haue made a bould comparison, and but a bare proofe: Where you vaunte, to be more excellent in shape, and more delicate in substaunce then men. [Page] It is an ouer ruled question, that Women receiue per­fection by men, & men imperfection by Women: then by how much the vertue is of more emprise, that is simplye Aristotles pro bleames. of it selfe, then that which is compounde of an other: by so farre wée exceede you in this perfection.

Your honour of valyantnes, died with your examples, and although there hath bene Women learned, and expe­rienced in Mecanicall craftes, yet to heare a Woman Extraordina­rie thinges, are not to be cōpared with ordinarie. plead at the Barre, preache in a Pulpit, or to sée her build a House, is a wonder and no example in vse. How shorte your deuinyng Sybels, come of the credit, of the Prophets in the olde Testament, is no question disputable: For your constancie at deathe, you knowe not how precious Life is preti­ous. lyfe is, which maketh you rash and not constant: and in trueth, what you haue frowardely determined, you will not bee forbidden.

As shée that had her Tongue cut, for callyng of her Hus­band Théefe, woulde yet notwithstandinge, make the signe of the Gallowse.

Well sir (quoth Quéene Aurelia) Epicarias o [...]ynary, Epicaria, in the trembling passage of death, was con stant. who endured to bée rent in péeces, before shée woulde confesse the conspyracie agaynst NERO, would haue ben holdē for a Uertue of staiednesse in a man.

And what say you of Leena, that byt off her tonge, and spit it in the Tirant Hippias face, because she would not PLIN. lib. 34 Cap, 2. bewraye a conspiracy against him.

Madame (with your fauour, quoth the Doctor) had she not had this foresight, it had ben lyke the Athenians shuld haue bene driuen to haue made a brasen Bell, as a Monu­ment of her talke: rather then a tongueles Lionnesse, as [...]n enuious Suggestion. they did in honour of her silence, for had she not mistrusted her imperfection, she would neuer haue committed that ti­rannie vpon her selfe.

Had her tongue béene venomed with your mallice, it is like (quoth Quéene Aurelia) that the Athenians had [Page] veryfied your slaunderous opinion: here with she looked a skause, vpon her fauoured seruaunts, as who would saye. I check the omission of your dutie, in not defending of my right. Upon which warning, and espetially, for the excel­lencie A man may praise a Woman without reproching a man. of this sexe, quoth Ismarito, a man may doo iustice vnto an other, without iniurie to himselfe: and sure with­out the reproche of men, a man may commend the excel­lencie of Women: in whose behalfe (although I wyll not condemne Sir Soransos reasons, yet in my opinion, he er­red in the first Article, where he toucheth the perfection of Men, and the imperfection of Women: for neither of them­selues are perfect, nor may haue essentiall substaūce with­out the other: But to dispute of this secret in nature at Chaste talk, ought es­petially to be vsed in the pre­sence of VVomen. Aris. Prob. large, were vnpleasing to their chaste eares, and too bréefe­ly to misticall, for theyr vnderstandings. But who so is so curious in searche, let him reade the Philosophers Pro­bleames, with an vnpartiall indgement, and he shall finde them in substaunce euery way as perfect as man. And in the opinion of the eye, of all the sences, who is the moste perfect Iudge, they farre excell man in purenes of com­plection: Where exception is taken to the few in number, of singulerly well qualyfed Women, I affirme that it is The qualli­ty and not the quanti­ty com­mends. not the quantity, but the quallity that commends: a little Salte, relisheth more then a great deale of Sugar. Iudeth with her owne hands, atchieued a more honourable con­quest, then all the Cilisions besides.

Alexandra, the wife of Alexander, King of the Iewes, (when the vnciuill multitude, were ready for his tiranie) to make the intrailes of Dogges, a Sepulture for his dead body: yea and to be further auenged, to murther his two Sonnes: by her swéete behauiour, so mollified theyr cruell hearts, as losing theyr resolutions, they gaue her hus­band an honourable buriall, and prostrated themselues, at her Childrens féete: which pacification, the strength nor wisdom of her counsel could not obtaine. By what instru­ment did God first showe the vigor of his vengeaunce? by Eaue. a Woman. And by what instrument did he showe the [Page] vertue of his mercie by a Woman. Soueraigne Vertue is Feminine, and (I [...]sh to [...]ll it,) Y [...] some Vice is Our Lady. Masculine The Ladies [...]ed out [...]ight, to [...]eer [...] [...]s differenco. But Soranso [...]fe angrie, aunswered, that if Ismaritos countrimen, were of his minde, they might be ashamed that they were so effeminate.

Pardon me; quoth Ismarito, it is theyr commendation to [...] to Women and to co [...]r Men▪ Where an iniurie in words, may be reuen­ged in words, a Gentleman is not boūd, to his sword

Tu [...] [...] (quoth [...]ergetto) to ni [...] himself by the nose▪ Ismarito is to be pardoned: for his [...]ine S. George▪ is shackl [...] in a Womans [...]

It is true (quoth Ismarito) but thus fettered, he hath many times chased S. Michael to his Mounte.

Fabritio, fearing that these crosses would turne to the Deuils blessing studyed how to accorde this contention, and with that intent, quoth he, Ismarito, you haue well Discreete standers by pacifieth contenti­ons. deserued to kisse these Ladyes handes, for your honoura­ble commendation of theyr sexe: But where you say Ver­tue is the Feminine, and Vice the Masculine, bothe Men and Women, are vnderstood in either. The old Diuines, tooke Vertue to be God, and Vice the Diuill, and either to Vertue and vice, bothe Feminine, and Mas­culine. be bothe Feminine and Masculine. Orpheus sayde, that Iupiter and Pluto, were bothe Male and Female. It is also read in Scripture: That God fashioned bothe Man and Woman to his owne likenesse. Moreouer this worde Homo, signifieth bothe kindes: so that since Man and Woman, are not simply of themselues, but compounded one of an other, I blame this vnnaturall contention, for excellencie, for neither can obtaine Soueraigne victorie, without dooing iniurie vnto themselues: The head among some is taken for the Man, and the heart for the woman, Note. (for bothe are of an indifferent gender) and all the other members indifferently at their commaundement.

Quéene Aurelia, with a smiling countenaunce, aun­swered, that she was content, that a Man should gouerne as the head, & women direct as the heart, and because we will not doo iniurie, vnto our naturall vertue of Modesty, [Page] we wil giue place to you, i [...] contention for Soueraine­tyes, Modesty an naturall vertue in a Wo­man. and binde you to s [...]rue vs for our [...]es and there­withall in rising, she broke of this controuersie.

After Supper, there was a little time bestowed in the hearing of swéete Musique, but for that Quéene Aurelias late distemprature, grew of ouer watching: the company this night, went vnto their lodging in a good howre.

The wittie deuice of Segnior Philoxenus, to giue certayne Comedians a Theame, to present some pastime in action, the fift night, after Supper.

BY that time, Supper was done, certayne Comedi­ans of Rauenna, presented their seruice to Segnior Philoxenus, & his honourable companie, who are not tide to a written deuice, as our English Players are, but hauing certayne groundes or principles of their owne, will, Extempore, make a pleasannt showe of other mens fantasies: So that to try the quicknes of the Gentlemen, and Gentlewomens wittes, to giue the Comedians a Theame, Segnior Philoxenus, demaunded the meaning of certaine Questions.

Segnior Soranso, quoth he: What passion is that, that tormenteth a man most, & hath least power to ouercome? 1. Inconstan­cie.

To thinke of a Womans Inconstancie, ꝙ Soranso: which gréeueth euery man, and cannot be subdued by wo men themselues.

Madame Aurelia, (ꝙ Philoxenus:) What thing is that, which most delighteth, and most deceiueth a Womē?

A mans dissimulation. (ꝙ Queene Aurelia:) Which 2. Dissimula­tion. hath such a swéete passage, through his Tongue, as it de­lighteth like the Sirens Songes, and yet turneth to as de­ceitefull a conclusion, as the Crocadiles Teares.

[Page] This yet, was but quid pro quo: so that neither one parte, nor the other was displeased.

The modest laughter being ceased, Segnior Philoxe­nus demaunded of Ismarito, what was the cause of most Deuotion? and yet the greatest replenisher of Hell.

Ignoraunce [ꝙ Soranso] whiche causeth men to wor­ship Stones, and dishonour God. 3. Ignorance.

Madam Maria, what is that (quoth Segnior Philoxe­nus) y ^t of men is least estéemed, and of God most regarded?

Chastitie [ꝙ Maria Belochy] whiche is precious be­fore God, and a laughing stock among men. 4. Chastytie.

Doctor Mossenigo [ꝙ Segnior Philoxenus] amonge men who is the most cruell?

A Dycer [ꝙ the Doctor] for he teareth God in péeces. 5. A Dicer. This answer, was both true, and moued newe laughter: Although it were propounded to discouer the nature of the Enuious, who murthereth the lyuing, and the fame of 6. Enuie. the dead.

Madam Lucia [ꝙ Segnior Philoxenus] wherein doth a man please a woman best, and displease himselfe most?

The modest Gentlewoman began to blush, and with great difficultie resolued this Question.

In the end, by the tongue of Alvisa Vechio (quoth she) In giuing of her, her Wyll. 7. Will.

It is true (quoth the Doctor) for her delight is to go­uerne, wherin her discretion, giueth others cause to laugh, and her Husband to hang the Lyp.

Segnior Dondolo [ꝙ Segnior Philoxenus] what is the greatest fréende to men at libertie, and the most enimie to such as are condemned?

Hope [ꝙ Don dolo,] whiche incourageth men at ly­bertie, to attempt great matters, and maketh such as are 8. Hope. condemned, vnprepared for death.

Madam Helena [ꝙ Segnior Philoxenus] what is that which woundeth the hart, & yet is worshipped of the eye?

Beautie (quoth Helena Dulce) for it pleaseth a mans eye, and pearceth his hart. 9. Beautie.

[Page] Segnior Bergetto, (ꝙ Segnior Philoxenus) What is that which oweth most and payeth least, and of all euils is the worst.

Ingratitude: (quoth Bargetto:) For that Monster re­ceiueth 10. Ingrati­tude. good turnes, and payeth vengeance.

Madame Franceschina, (quoth Segnior Phyloxenus:) What is that, whiche in louynge too muche, baneth with Hate?

Ielousie: [ꝙ Franceschina Sancta:] whiche, by ouer­muche louyng, raiseth Suspition: Suspition mooueth Con 11. Ielosie. tention, and Contention tourneth to mortall hatred.

Segnior Faliero: I demaunde [ꝙ Phyloxenus:] who he is, that profiteth his frendes, but by Death? is a Ste­warde, for other men: & maketh his Account (only) with God?

A Coueitous man [ꝙ Faliero:] who, whyle he ly­ueth, is enemie vnto hymself, and therfore. vnlykely, to be 12. Couotous­nesse. friende to others: also is but a Stewarde of the goods hee gathereth, for he spareth for others, and spendeth little or nothing vppon himselfe: and at the iudgement day, before God, must make account of all his deceit.

Madam Katherina, quoth Segnior Philoxenus: what is that, which is couldest clad in Friese, and warmest at­tyred in pretious Stones?

Pride, quoth Katherina Trista, which hath no grace, 13. Pride. but in brauerie.

Louely Guestes, quoth Segnior Philoxenus, you haue so liuely deuined my meaning in your sharpe answeres: as I expecte wonders, of your dayly disputation.

Sir, quoth Fabritio, we hitherto, haue but exposed, and refelled errours.

If you haue done so muche (ꝙ Philox.) you haue made a fayre passage for the glorie of Trueth, which by the re­felling of Error, you shall finde: for euerie vertue is com­mended Vertue is cō ­mended by vice. by his contrarie. A Diamond seemeth the fairer, for his foyle. Blacke best setteth foorth White: Good is most praysed in the reprehension of Euill: and Trueth is [Page] the hyest degrée is renowned by the refelling of errour: and therfore follow your purpose, the conclusion, cannot, but bée profitable.

Héere Segnior Philoxenus stopped his digression, and commaunded the Comedians, to bethinke themselues of some action, that should lyuelie expresse the nature of In­constancie, Dissimulation, Ignoraunce, and the rest of the passions, before named: Which charge being giuen, while the Actors, were attiring themselues, for the stage, Quéene Aurelia, and her Attendaunts, tooke their places, with such aduauntage, as euery Gentleman, had lyberty, to deuise with his Mistresse.

After the Comedians had put themselues in order, they patched a Comedie together, and vnder the resited names, showed some matter of Morallytie, but a greate deale of mirth: who with their pastime, kept the compa­nie vp so long, as drowsie sléepe, which delighteth in no­thing but scilence, arrested y ^e greater part of them, and ca­ried them close prisoners, vnto their Chambers.

The speeche which passed the sixt night at Supper, betweene Segnior Phyloxenus, and his Honourable Guestes.

ACcording to the order of Merchaunts, who at the latter ende of the yeare, suruey theyr accounts, to sée what fortune and mischaunce they haue receyued thorough the whole yeare past. Segnior Philoxenus (towards the latter end of Supper) smilelingly, demaun­ded an account of the benefit of the chosen companies sixe dayes Disputation.

Sir (quoth Soranso, with a modest merry counte­naunce) we are like to present you a Eanckrupts recko­ning, who the longer he occupieth, the worse he thriueth: It is no st [...]iung a­gainst the streame. so we these sixe dayes, haue trauailed to finde out a way, to the Parradise in Mariage, and euery day we haue béen further and further off, of our determination, one day we thought that the wealthy matches of Parentes, would haue spéeded our iorney, but there, lack of loue in the Children, cast vs behinde hand: an other day, we imagi­ned that frée choise in the Children, would haue directed [Page] vs to happinesse in Marriage: but want of [...] and frowardnes in the parentes, marred this marth. In lofty loue we found dainger: in base loue sothesom [...]esse and inconstancy: and where there is inequality of yeares, fume and smoke of Hell: so that now wee shall be dryuen to renounce our profession: and runne awaye with the Banck [...]owt, least (if he staye, as he is chopped vp in pry­son so) we, if wee procéede any further be drowned in the ryuer Stix.

If you trauaile with as much pleasure, as you report your aduentures with ease, quoth Signior Philoxenus, I wonder but a little though errour carryed you to Hell gates: but to incourage you to perseuer in your fyrst pur­pose, let this comfort you: that thinges when they are at the worst, begin again to amend. The Feauer giueth place to health, when he hath brought the pacyent to deathes doore. The Bée, when he hath lefte his stinge in your hand without dainger may playe with your eye lidde: so, when all the inconueniences of Marriage, are in your eares, you may very well receiue her into your heart: and to conclude your benifytte with your owne example, there The thri­uing vn­thrift proues the the best husband. is no such husband as the vnthrifte, when he fasteneth vppon [...]e worlde: for in spending of other mennes goodes he learned howe to spare his owne, when he gettes them: so in the pleasaunt beating out of these inconueniences, you knowe what maketh Marriage bitter, and the gréefe knowen, the remedye is easie.

With your fauour, Sir, quoth Dondolo, to be sicke is common to all men, but to restore to health, vnder God, is the offyce of the Phisition: so we all knowe by our owne trauaile, the infirmities of Marriage, but to fynde out the blessinges, muste procéede from your sound directions which fauour to obtaine we are all earnest suters.

Your request is so iuste quoth Segnior Philoxenus, that if I were able (as I am not) to better your i [...]ge­mentes, I would not be daintye in this pleasure: but for that the more the opinions are, in the end, the more pro­found [Page] the sentence is: I wyll too morrowe (in part, to sa­tisfie your demaund) ioyne with you in your ordinarie swéete exercise. Perchaunce you haue ended all the in­conueniences in the olde yeare, and I may begin the New yeare, in helping to bloome the blessings of Mar­riage.

Quéene Aurelia and the rest of the company, affectio­nately thanked Signior Philoxenus for this hye fauour: and so rose from the Table, who after a little pawsing, daunsing and deuising: at theyr pleasures, went vnto theyr lodginges.

Householde Lawes, to keepe the Maryed, in Loue, Peace, and Amy­tie: Reported, by Segnior Phyloxenus.

THE Satisfaction of Fancie, is the Sowrce of Ioye in Maryage: But, there be many meanes too damne vp the Course of Delight, betwéene the Maried, if the Match be not made, aswell, by foresight, as frée choyce:

The Office of Foresight, is to preuent, folowyng Mis­chaunces: Marriage con sistes as well in foresight, as free choyce and (aduisedly to consider, if present Abylytie, wyll support an Househoulde, and (according to their cal­lyng) leaue a Portion, to their Posterytie.

[Page] In this point, the experyence of the Parents, is to be pre­fe [...]red [...] the rashe imaginations of the sonne: for the aged Married, by proofe know, that in time many acci­dents of mischaunce, will hinder the indeuours of the best husbands.

The office of foresight, is likewise to consider, of the e­quallitie Equallity in yeares. in yeares, least the one growing, and the other declining in perfection, after a while, repent, when reme­die comes too late: the Rose full blowne, séemeth fayre for a time, but withereth much sooner then the tender Bud.

It is the office of foresight, to consider of the equallitie Equallity in manners. of bringing vp, least a diuersity in manners, betwéene the married, make a deuision of desires: for Spannyels and Curres, hardly liue together without snarling.

And it is the office of foresight, to sée that there be a Consent in religion. consent in Religion, betwéene the marryed, for if theyr loue be not grafted in theyr soules, it is like theyr Marri­age will be infyrmed, with the defects of the body.

The office of Free choise, is the roote or foundation of Free choise in satisfacti­on of Fancie. Marriage, which consisteth onely in the satisfaction of fancie: for where the fancie is not pleased, all the perfecti­ons of the world, cannot force looue, and where the fancie delighteth, many defects are perfected, or tollerated a­mong the Marryed.

When Marriage is solemnized, there are many things to be obserued one the parte bothe of the husband and the Wife.

The Husband is to consider, his house is a petty Com­mon A mans house is a pettie com­mon weale. wealth, whereof himselfe is chéefe, and his Ser­uaunts Subiects: therefore, for the welfare bothe of him­selfe and householde, it is néedefull, that he set downe such [...]rders, as God may be gloryfied, himselfe profitably ser­ued, the good seruaunt well rewarded, the euill chastened, and the neighbour pleased: And as it is the Husbands office, to set downe these orders, so it is the Wiues dutie The office of the Wife. to sée them executed.

[Page] The charge of the Husband, is to get abroade for the The hus­bandes care apperrai­neth to thinges abroade. prouision of his householde: and the Wife is bounde to spare at home, towards the maintenance of her children.

The office of the Husband, is to sée his ground Tilled, his Cattell cherished, his fences sound, his labourers worke, and their wages paide.

The dutie of the wife is to sée her Garden wéeded, her The wiues chatge is huswiuery within doore. Uines cut, and in her Orcharde her fruite Trées pruned: within doores her house well ordered, her Maidens busi­ed, her Children instructed, the fréend intertained, and the Tables well furnished. And in this Oeconmie, many women haue so excelled, as Socrates affirmeth: that he Morall Phi­losophit to be learned by women. learned of Women more Morrall Philosophie, then na­turall reason of Anaxagoras and Archelaus: wherein So­crates testifyeth no more then theyr woorthy sexe deser­ueth: for many Women gouerne theyr Families with such Prudence, Temperance, Pietie, and other commen­dable vertues, as may well instruct the wisest.

The Husband ought to beware, that in the presence Laciuious talke to be shunned of the husband of his wife, he vseth no filthie lasciuious talke: for besides the witnesse of his owne indiscression, he maketh her a passage for many an vnhappy thought.

The Wife ought to be nice, in occasion of suspition, for The wife ought to be nice in cause of suspition. her husband that sée'th open cause of mistrust, cannot but feare, that in secret, he receiueth iniurie: and Ielowsie though she procéedes from excéeding loue, yet is she the greatest enemie of the Married.

The Husband is bound to kéepe his wife in ciuill and comely apparell, as well to make her [...]éeme beautifull Comelye apparell the husband should giue his wife. vnto himselfe, as to preuent the reproche of the neigh­bour: for this hath béene an auncient custome among the Romaines, and it is to be feared, that if the Husband breake, it to spare his Purse, the Wife will repayre it, though she gage her person.

The Wife that will please her Husband, and make a Cleane lynnen commenda­ble in a vvife. great showe of a little, though her Gownes be plaine, in her lynnen she must be curtous and fine: for otherwise, [Page] were she attyred all in Silke: if her sléeues, Partlet and other Linnen be coorse, torne, or sluttishly washed, she shall neither be praysed of straungers, nor delight her Husband.

The Husband, after householde iarres, if the Wife The husbād must bevvare of sollomnes. séeme to be sorie, he ought not to be sullen: for if shée per­ceiue him of a frowarde nature, it is like in other suche squares, she wilbe negligent to please him.

The Wife, if she offend her husband, by some igno­raunt The vvife must be amyable tovvardes her husband trespasse, she must please him with a louing coun­tenaunce: least if he finde her of a crooked condition, he will take delight to crosse her with continuall foule v­sage.

The olde Husband, is to accompany his young Wife A lavve for a younge vvomans olde husband. with graue Matrons, and to set her foorth with costly ci­uill attyre, that séeing the reuerence and honour that is giuen her for her Husbandes grauitie, she will studdie how to please him, though she displease her owne dis­position.

The younge Wife that hath an olde Husband, is A regarde for an olde mans young vvyfe. bound to make much of him at home: for the reputation she receaueth in his life, and for the wealth she is like to haue by his deathe: and abroade must be sober in her be­hauiours, discréete in her talke, and no harkener to young mens tales, least her owne lightnesse, make her openly infamed, where her Husbands imperfections, could cause her but to be secreatly suspected.

The young Husband is too beare with his olde Wife, A regarde for an olde vvomans younge husband. in her will, as well for the reuerence due to her yeares, as for the aduauncement, the loue bringeth to himselfe: least the neighbours terme his Wife an vnfortunate old Woman, and himselfe, a naughtie, frowarde, vile natu­red young man.

Theolde Wife, to giue excuse to her dotage, must A regard for a young mans olde vvife. in open assemblies, commend her young Husband of mo­dest and staied gouernement: and secreatly, to be louingly vsed, must kisse him: with Midas lippes for, if she fyll not [Page] his Purse by fayre meanes, with foule intreatie he will be his owne Caruer: if she complayne, she ioyneth but scorne to her owne mischaunce.

Generally, the Husband ought not to forbid his Wife, Modest fa­miliaritie not to be forbidden the Wife. in assemblyes modestlie, to intertaine time, in deuising with the better sorte: for in such ielous restraint, he shall leaue a suspition, that he inioyneth her this open pen­naunce, for some secret trespasse, and so bothe slaunder himselfe, and iniurie his wife.

The Wife should haue an especiall care, to shun the Light com­pany to be shunned of the Wife. company of light Women: for the multitude, though they can charge her with no misdemeanour, yet they well con­demne her honor, by the known euils of her companions.

Many other néedefull directions, may be giuen to pre­serue vnitie in Mariage (quoth Segnior Phyloxenus) too cumbersome for me to reporte, and too tedious for this honorable company to héere, whose patience I haue alrea­dy iniured too much: but finding my error, I end my tale, & remaine ready to make satisfactiō in some other seruice.

Sir (quoth Fabritio) the end of your Tale, puts vs in remembraunce of our duetie and your right, which is for this honourable fauour, to remaine your indebted Ser­uaunts, to embrace your counsels, and to commend (and submit our reasons, to) your learned Censure.

It is your fauour and not my merit (quoth Segnior Phyloxenus.)

Sir, (quoth Quéene Aurelia) I will beare the blame of this dayes importuning of you, and you alone shall haue the honour, in graunting of my requests, who to the former ioyneth this one more fauour, which is, that you conclude this your worthy exercise, with some rare Hi­storie at large.

Madam (quoth Segnior Philoxenus) this is the least of your commaundements, considering that Histories make mention of thousands, who in their vnseperable looues, haue sounded the excellencie of Mariage, wherefore I o­ [...]ey your pleasure.

❧The woorthy Historie of Phrigius and Pieria. Reported by Segnior Phyloxenus.

IN the Register of Fame, wherein the Monuments of the vertuous are Cronicled, as presedents for theyr posteritie, I reade, that in the famous Cittie of Mile­tum in Ionia, as soueraigne Prince and gouernour, there raigned a worthy Duke, called Nebeus, who to comfort and supporte his aged yeares, had to his sonne and onely heayre, Phrigius, a young Gentleman of such rare to­wardlines, as it may be a question, whether he weare more beholding to Nature for the perfections of his body, to Vertue for the qualities of his minde, or to Fortune in suffering him to be so nobly borne.

In Myos, a neighbour Cittie to Miletum, there was also a Prince of much renowne, named Pythes, whose Daughter and heyre, was fayre Pieria, by whose vertues all Ionia was renowned. The auncient enuie betwéene the Cittizens of Miletum and Myos, was tourned into amitie: and the open warre betwéene Duke Nebeus and the noble Pithes, was peaceably and honourably ended: All such happie euents, succéeded this following aduen­ture. Upon the Feastiuall day of Diana, the Cittizens of Myos, with out the iniurie of Souldiers, might law­fully repayre to Miletum, to sacrifice to Diana, vpon which safe conduct, with many other Ladyes and Gentle­women of Myos, fayre Pieria waighted on her Mother to Dianas Temple, whose rare beauty was such, as dazeled the eies of the behoulders, like the reflections of a Myrror, placed against the Sunne.

Among many that looued, and few or none that saw pos­sibility of grace, such was the renowne of her chasse dis­daine, young Phrigius beheld Pieria with such a setled eye, [Page] [...] [Page] [...] [Page] as Dianas Temple sheelded him not against the Arrowes of Looue: but as a wounded Stag, at the first séemeth lit­tle dismayde: so Phrigius with an vnappalled chéere, returned to the Dukes Pallace, and as pledge of truce, he sent his heart to Myos. The Ceremonies and Sacri­fices of Diana ended, the Warres renued, the wonted Massacres, Murthers, Rapines, and outragious cruelties practised by the Souldiours of either part: in so much as Lawe gaue place to Armes, equitie to violence, and all publique order was peruerted, and vpon the point to be destroyed. The Captaines of Myos encouraged theyr Souldiours of y ^t one part: but y ^t Souldiours of Miletum, were driuen to comfort theyr Captaine w ^t a threatening of disgrace. But ah poore Phrigius, what aunswer shouldst thou make? To see thy Souldiours slaine, and thy Cit­ties spoyled, without proffers of rescue were dishonou­rable: to bend thy forces against thy owne heart, were vnnaturall: to make the best choyse of these two euilles, required leasure: and iudgement. And therefore aduisedly to consider of his estate, at this time Phrigius satisfied his Souldiours with hope of some spéedy venturous ex­ployte, and daungered not his enemies, with the proffer of any violence: so that either power kept their trenches peaceably, but yet with this indifferent perryll, that they attended oportunitie, to make the one Conquerors, and the other Captiues: for the long Ciuill contention, had now made the estate of either as desperate, as the for­tunes of two that haue their substaunce vpon the chaunce of Dice, the one to haue all, the other to be vndoone.

When Phrigius had with slender hope thus quieted the acclamations of the people, he retyred himselfe into a solitary Chamber, to be the sole companion of his outra­gious passions, with whom he thus deuised.

Ah trayterous eyes, betrayers of my whole body, the scourge of Miletum, and enymies of my honour: the vengeaunce of Oedippus is too gentle for your iniuries: what doost thou say? oh blasphemous tongue, riuall of [Page] humanitie, callumner of Beautie, and hinderer of thy countryes peace: thou reprocher of vertue, and Phrigius welfare: know to thy shame, the perfection of my eyes haue constantly behelde Pieria, whose deuine beauties, emblemed in humaine shape, dazeleth the youngest sight in Ionia: Then to reuile them thus, thou tyrannisiest na­ture: to demaunde why I loue and serue Beautie, thy question is blinde, and deserueth a double aunswer: But aye me, though my eyes, and Loue, haue doone but what is iust, Fortune hath dealt too rigourously with me, to render my heart Captiue to his Daughter, who is the ri­uall of my father: what hope may I giue to my afflicti­ons? when possibility of comfort is taken away: the Pa­rents are ready to sheath their Swords in one an others entrayles: is it then like, the Children shall imbrace a mutuall affection? O no: for though mylde Venus consent that they loue, wrathfull Mars wyll seuer theyr affec­tion. O cruell Warre, thou art not vnproperly called The venge­aunce of Warre. the scourge of God, for in thée is contayned a greater vengeaunce then might be imagined by man: thou ar­mest the Sonne against the Father, the Uncle against the Nephew, the Subiect against his Soueraigne: Thy Drinke is blood, thy foode the flesh of men: thy Fiers are flaming Citties: thy pleasures, spoyling of Widdowes, rauishment of Uirgins, subuertion of Lawes and pub­lique benefit: thy Iudges, Tyrannie and Iniustice: and where thou remaynest, her knowen enemy is not so daungerous, as the fayned fréend.

But why exclaime I of Warre, who double Crowned Alexander with the ritches of Asia and Affrica? who ho­noured Caesar, with imperiall triumphes? and rewarded Hanniball, for the trauailes of his life, with renowne af­ter death? by whom Millions of men, are regystred in the life Booke of Fame: and thorough whom, Phrigius giueth expectation of benefit vnto his Countrey, comfort to his aged Father, and honour to his posteritie.

I receyued my wounde in the tyme of peace, nay in the Temple of Diana: shall I then exclayme of [Page] Peace, and vpbrayde Chastitie: fowle fall the heart that should mooue, and shame worme the tongue that pro­nounceth such blasphemie: O blessed Peace, thou fast chai­nest Treason, Tirannie, Murther, Theft, and Wrathe, with all disturbers of common tranquillitie, and in the hyest dignities, placest Iustice, Pietie, Temperaunce, Con­corde and Loue, with many other Morrall vertues, by The bles­sings of peace. whom the lewde are chastened, the good are cherished, and Common weales prosper and florish. O Chastitie, thy diuine vertues deserue a better Trumpet, then my iniurious tongue: thy excellencie is written in the browe of Pieria. And is Pieria the Deputie of Diana? O yes: and Phrigius the seruaunt of Venus? too true: it is then impossible they should agrée in affection? yea sure. O vnfortunate Phrigius, through Peace, which receiuedst thy wound, before Dianas Aulter, and by cruell Warre art seperated from the Surgion that should cure thée. These sundrye conflictes Phrigius had with his bitter passions, which pursued theyr aduantage, with such thor­ny feares, as if he had not béene suddenly succoured, by the aduise and comfort of Lorde Miletus, a fauoured Counsel­ler to Duke Nebeus, & an assured fréend to his sonne Phri­gius, he had béene like to haue yéelded to Dispaire. Miletus was glad to sée him thus affected, and sorry to behold him so daungerouslie afflicted: for in this loo [...]e he foresawe an end, of the auncient enuie and enmitie, betwéene the Cit­tizens of Miletum, and Myos: whose ciuill Fraies, had buried more young men in the Fieldes, then aged in the Churches and Churchyardes. Therefore to confirme his affection, and to comfort him with hope: Lord Phrigius quoth he, to blame your affection were cruelty & no sound counsell: for you loue Pieria, the Parragon of the worlde, to discomfort you with an impossibilitie of her fauour, were cleane against the possibilitie of your fortune: for besides that, your person alluringly pleaseth, your autho­rities commaund: yea Piches cannot but reioyce, Pieria consent, and all Myos desire is to solemnize this Mariage.

[Page] My selfe, and the grauer sort of the counsell, will mo­tion the matter to the Duke your father, who I trust wil holde the affection of his sonne, rather to procéede from the iustice of Diana, then the iniurie of Cupid. Who re­garding the zelous offeringes of Pieria, agreed that you shoulde be wounded, that Pieria might haue the honour to cure you, in whose vertues, all Ionia hopeth to be bles­sed. Therefore, to make your affection knowen, in some pleasing Letter, to Pieria commend your seruice, and to deale with both your fathers, refer the care to mee: How swéete the smallest hope of grace is to a condemned man? or the leaste woorde of comfort, from the Phisition, to the infirmed patient: the soden chaunge of Phrigius mone, truely manifesteth: who nowe began to looke cheerefully, and with hope appeased his passions: so that imbrasing Miletus, he committed his life to the fortune of his discre­sion: and while his passion was quicke, hee presented both loue and seruice to Pieria, in this following letter.

THis Letter sealed & subscribed: To fayre Pieria, Try­umph after victorie: was deliuered vnto a trustie Mes senger: who (hauing Safecunduict, to passe through both the Armies) in good houre, arriued at Prince Pythes, Pallace: and in the presence of her Mother & other friends reuerently kissyng the same, deliuered Pieria, w ^t Phrygius louyng commendations, his letter. Who so in y ^e Spryng­time, in one Momēt had séene rayne and Sunshine, might againe beholde the lyke chaunge in Pierias troubled coun­tenaunce: who found no lesse Ioye in reading the Letter, then cause of wonder, in beholding the superscriptiō, who (by the consent of Diana, to bring peace into Myletū) was by loue, with the selfe same Arrowe, & at one instant woū ­ded in as déepe Affection, as Phrygius: notwithstandynge, bounde to no desire so muche, as to the Direction of her Parentes, she shewed them this Letter: who wéerie of the warres: and embracynge this meane of peace. After they had aduisedly considered the Contentes: to comforte Phrygius, without iniurie to Pieriaes chaste behauiour in her name, they returned this Aunswere.

This aunswer sealed, and subscribed, To my Lorde Phrygius: delyuered by the handes, and blessed with the louing countenaunce of Pieria, was returned to Phrigi­us, by his owne messenger: who, after hée had read and reread this Letter (not for that, the Contents, gaue him any assuraunce of Loue: but for because, they com­maunded an imployment of Seruice) hée comforted his Spirit, with hope, that his indeuour in this charge, shoulde, both reaue all doubte, of dissimulation, by hym, and smoothe Pierias Browe, of Chaste disdayne: and to further a happy ende of the Countries calamitie. In the beginnyng of Phrigius contentment, Lorde Mile­tus had so dealt in these affaires, as in shorte time Duke Nebeus, and Prince Pythes came to parle of peace: and while the Counsels of either parte, considered vppon the Articles of agréement: Safecundit of Trafick, was ge­uen to the Inhabitants of either Citie.

How swéete the friendly incounters, of these aunciente enemies were: is the office of him, that hath béene scour­ged [Page] with warres: who, though they were but in the e­state of repriued men, yet the hope of assured peace light­ned their hartes of former sorrowe, and replenished the The vertue of Peace. place with gladnesse.

Faire Pieria, nowe safely repaired to the Aulters of Diana: and Phrygius, more of desire, to salute his Mistris, then of zeale to sacrifice, to Chastetie: fayned many De­uotions, to visit her Temple: where these Louers, for the reuerence they bare to the place, forbare to encounter in any spéeche of Loue: Yet if Diana, wolde haue publyshed their thoughts, shee shoulde haue confessed, that the most deuotionate of them both, in their hartes, honoured Iuno, in the eye of her owne Image and Aulters. But Dia­na, though shée be the Soueraigne of single Nimphes: yet is she friende to Iuno, and y ^e Chast Married: and only enemie, to Venus and the wanton sort: so that shee tooke in worth, this light trespasse: yea, held her self honoured, that her sacred Temple, should bee the originall cause of Myletum and Myos, peace and amytie: and the ende of their auncient enuy, and enmitie. Wherfore, to conclude, the begun agreement, she sent Concorde and Charitie, to chayne vp Grudge, and Dissention.

Duke Nebeus and Prince Pythes, fréed from the vex­ation of these furies, with affable and friendly intertain­ment, reasoned of their affayres: and while the Parents parled of their common profit: the Children, vppon law­full oportunities, deuysed of their pryuate Loues: but yet with suche a dutifull regarde, of their friendes consent, that although their hartes were lynked together, by frée choyce, the clapping of hands was referred to the forsight of Parentes: who burying former iniuries, in the Caue of Obliuion, made an Edict of Amyty, sealed, & strengthned, with the Marriage of Phrygius and Pieria, Heires of ei­thers renowne and dignytie. Beholde héere the worke of The power of vertuous Loue. Loue, grafted in the honorable hartes of the vertuous. The wrath and stormes of war, is turned to calm & tem­porate peace: y ^t blossoms of enmytie are altered into fruts of amyty: and the roote of mallice, grown to y ^e trée of pitie. [Page] The Nobles in honour of this Mariage, lauisht out their treasure, in all their triumphes and showes to be in good equipage. The meaner Gentlemen, by excéeding cost, lear ned by experience, how afterwarde to spare. The Citi­zens with giftes of great Emprice, presented their duti­ful affections. The learned eternised this marriage peace, in Tables of Memorie. The Cleargy song Himnes of ioy, The common people ronge the Belles, and euerie sorte showed some token of delight. So that Phrigius and Pre­ria, after the deathes of their aged fathers, were crow­ned with the dignities of Myletum and Myos, and all their happie life, were honoured with these acclamati­ons of their subiectes. Liue, blessed Princes: the appea­sers of Iupiters wrathe, by whome War, the Monster of humanitie, is fast chayned: And peace the soueraigne of morall vertues, Triumpheth in the Capitals of IONIA Liue blessed princes, and long enioye the heartes of your subiectes. In your vertues who haue multiplied wealth: and to doe you seruice are readie to spende their liues.

This zeale and reuerence of their subiectes, Phrigius and Pieria, manie yeares possessed, betwéene whome there was such equallitie in disposition, as fortune knew not, by anie accident of ioye, or mischance, howe to seuer their desires. And when the time came, that the heauens (enuying the glorie of the earth, in possessing this diuine cupple charged nature, to render their right. Who obay­ing the will of Ioue, sent sickenes to summon both Phri­gius, and Pieria, and licensed death to doe his worst. And (as there yet remaineth an opinion in Miletum) as their loues began in one houre, is their liues ended in one mo­mente: whose spirites Metamorphosed, into white Turtles, tooke their flight, towardes that heauenly Para dise. Where I wish all faithfull louers, and this louely companie, abiding places.

Segnior Philoxenus, by the vertue of this dayes ex­ercise, the onely trauell of his learned wit, so raysed the heartes of the companie, with the desire of Mariage, that Lucia Bella, who, in the beginning of Christmasse, was [Page] determyned to haue béene a vestall Nunne, now confessed that they were enemies to Nature, & not worthy the so­ciety of men, which scandylised, or scorned this sacred In­stitution. The rest of this honorable company, by plaw­sible spéeches, confirmed Lucia Bellas opinion, or by silence shewed a willyng consent. And to conclude the exercise, (ꝙ Quéene Aurelia,) Segnior Philoxenus, your swéet ver­tues, haue described so deuyne a Paradice, as our soules cannot, but long, after this holy Institution, & our hartes honour your perfections, by whose bountie this company is not onely highly intertained, but by your most preci­ous treasures richly inriched. Madam (ꝙ hée) y ^t vertue you speake of, belongeth to Mariage: y ^t benifit to this gra­cious assembly: & the bare words, to Phyloxenus. Such bare wordes (ꝙ Fabritio) deserue to be registred amonge the lyfe déeds of Memorie. Upon this Iudgment, Quéene Aurelia, arose, & the company performyng the office of re­uerent curtesy, returned into the great Chamber to salute some other of the New yéeres Pleasures.

¶ The Deuice of a Stately Show, and Mask, the se­uenth Nyghte, by Segnior PHILOXENVS, to honoure Queene AVRELIA, & the other Ladies and Gentlewomen.

VPpon Newe yéeres daye at Night, about nine of the Clocke, in an inclosed place in the great Hall: after Quéene Aurelia, & her chosen attendants, had daun­ced certein solemne Almaynes, appeared a hye Mountain, the Farestery wherof, was of faire Bay Trees, Pomgra­nate, Lymons, Orenges, Date Trees, and other fruites of most pleasure: among the Mossy Rocks appeared Snailes, Lysards, Moles, Frogs, Greshoppers, & such lyke vnueny­mus vermin, and by the fountaines, which run aslant the side of y ^e Mountain, Lions, Vnicorns, Elephāts, Cameliōs, Camels & other beasts of honor: as if they were appointed by Nature, to garde those sacred streames, frō being trou­bled w ^t the raskall multitude of Cattel, which domesticall desart, was perfected w ^t such art, as nature cōfessed her ex [Page] cellent cūning, to be vanquished by mans industrie. This Mauntaine which resembled, some wildernes in Arabia, dewed w ^t y ^t pleasant springes of Africa, by a still motion, remoued towards y ^t vpper end of y ^e hall, into y ^t ful presence of Quéene Aurelia, & the most statly company. In y ^e mydst of this Mountaine was an Arbor of sweete Eglentine, in­tercoursed w ^t Roses, and fully shadowed w ^t the spreadinge Branches, of y ^e purpled Vine: in which, vpō a statly throne sate Diana attired all in whyte, and at her féete weare the nyne Muses, clothed in seuerall colours, according to their seueral qualyties, sounding heauenly harmony, both with voice & instrument: out of this arbor sprang a Bay Tree, in which was the Hyen, which at pleasure being both Male & Female, expressed y ^e ful power of vertue: who though shée hath y ^t forme & habit of a woman, yet is her essentiall sub­stance compounded of both kindes: At the foote of this Hil, was y ^e Monster Enuy armed w ^t fire & sword, to hinder their passage, which aduētred to clime y ^t Mount: a forest Nimph clad all in flowers, in a short spéech, declared, y ^t Diana, & y ^e Muses, who in the golden age, had their Pallaces, in the Forrests, Mountaines, & riuers of pleasure, through out y ^t whole world: now by y ^e iniury of time, were driuē to their sanctuary of Parnassus: at y ^t foote wherof the Monster Enuy kept, to hinder y ^t passages of such as attempted w ^t their re­nown, to set those Ladies at lyberty: who hering by fame, y ^e glory of this honorable company, were ariued by hope, y ^t y ^e vertu of some of y ^e troupe, should redéeme thē from capti­uytie, & therfore, she sūmoned y ^e Knightes present, to make tryall of their vallors, & y ^e Ladies of their vertues: whiche saide, she retired back into y ^e Mountaine: The Gentlemen & Ladies, hauing a cūning foreknowlege of y ^e intēt of this show aruied themselues, w ^t sundry attempts to ouercome this Monster. Soranso, Dondolo, Ismarito, & Faliero, drew their rapiers, & assailed Enuy, but dry blowes auailed not: so y ^t they were conquered, & cōmitted to y ^e gayle of Tedius­nesse. Maria Belochy, Franceschina Sancta, Lucia Bella, Helena Dulce, and other Ladies, and Damosels, indeuo­red to charme hym, w ^t the swéete sounds, and Heauenlye [Page] impressions of Musick. But Enuy more warie then Ar­gus, and lesse: pitifull then y ^e Tormenters of Hell: the first whereof, was ouercome with Inachus Oten Pipe: the o­ther moued to ruthe with Orpheus passionate Musick (to show himselfe composed of all the vennom of Hell) coulde not hée conquered, by the sharp swords of the Knightes, nor would not be intreated with the sugred Harmonie of the faier Ladies: But amidst this Monsters Triumphes, there was a voyce heard in the Mowntayne: Non vi, sed virtute: Whervpon, Quéene Aurelia, with a Myrrour, deuised by Segnior Philoxenus, peaceably, made towards Enuie: whiche Monster, presumyng of his force, lifted his Club against this vertuous Dame: who, by the reflec­tions of the Concaue Superficies, of this Myrrour, daun­ted with the feare of his own weapon, imagining that he stroke him selfe, recoyled backe with such haste, as he fell downe: Whervpon, Segnior Phyloxenus, seasyng on his Club, and laying him on, therwith, said: As Phallaris, dyd Enuy is mur­dered with his owne we­pon. to Perillus: die with the weapon, thou preparst for other.

In Trumph of this glorious Uictorie, Diana sent down the Nymphe Chlora, to salute Quéene Aurelia, with this Present: which was a Shield, wherin was quartred, four seuerall Honours.

The first. VERT: A lookyng Glasse of Christall.

The second. AZVRE: a payre of Ballance, Argent.

The thyrd. OR: a Pyller of Porphier.

The fourth. Argent: a standing Cup of Ruby Rock.

The Muses them selues, came also downe, and crowned her with a Garland of Roses, parted, perpale, ARGENT, and GVLIS: and e­lecting her for their Soueraign, to comfort the fiue Knights that were discōforted by ENVY, two & two leading a Knight, between thē, daun ced a statly Almain, of XV. which ended: thei bestowed a fauor, & cer­tain Latin verses, vpō euery one of the Knights: & returned vnto their Mount. The Siluer Pen, & Verses deliuered by VRANIE to ISMARITO, stand in the forefrunt of this Booke: the rest, for that they were pro­per vnto them selues, & impertinent for this matter, I omit: By this time, the Cock was ready to sing his midnight song: & the company (fully satisfied with pleasure) departed vnto their lodgings, to spende the rest of the night in Contemplation and sleepe.