The .xi. Bookes of the Golden Asse, Conteininge the Metamorphosie of Lucius Apuleius, enterlaced with sondrie pleasaunt and delecta­ble Tales, with an excellent Narration of the Mari­age of Cupide and Psiches, set out in the .iiij. v. and vj. Bookes.

Translated out of Latine into Englishe by VVilliam Adlington.

Imprinted at London in Fleetstreate, at the signe of the Oliphante, by Henry VVykes. Anno. 1566.

To the right Honorable, and Mightie Lorde, Thomas, Earle of Sussex, Viscont Fitz­waltre, Lorde of Egremont and of Burnell, Knight of the most noble Order of the Garter, Iustice of the Forestes and Chases, from Trente sowthwarde, and Capi­taine of the Gentlemen Pen­tioners, of the house of the Queene out So­ueraigne Lady.

AFter that I had ta­ken vpon me (right Hono­rable) in manner of that vn­learned and foolish poet Che­rillus, (who rashly, and vn­aduisedly, wrote a bigge vo­lume in verses of the gestes and valiant prowesse of A­lexander the great) to trans­late this present booke, con­teyninge the Metamorphosy of Lucius Apuleius: beynge moued therunto by the right pleasant pastime, and de­lectable matter therein: I eftsones consulted with my selfe, to whome I might best offer so pleasant and woor­thy a woorke, deuised by the Author, it beyng now bar­barously and simply framed in our Englishe tongue. [Page] And after longe deliberatiō had, your Honorable Lord­shippe came to my remembrance, a man muche more woorthy then to whome so homely and rude a transla­tion should be presented. But when I againe remem­bred the iestinge and sportfull matter of the booke vn­fitte to be offred to any man of grauitie and wisedome, I was wholly determined to make no Epistle dedica­tory at all: till as now of late, perswaded thereunto by my fréendes, I haue boldly enterprised to offer the same to your Lordshippe, who as I trust will with no lesse good will accept the same, then if it did entreate of some serious & loftie matter, consideryng that although the matter therein séeme very light, and mery, yet the effect thereof tendeth to a good and vertuous morall, as in the followynge Epistle to the Reader may be cléerly perceaued. For so hath all wryters in times paste em­ployed their trauell and labours, that their posteritie might receaue some fruictfull profite by the same. And therefore the Poetes feigned not their fables in vaine, consideringe that children in time of their first studies, are muche allured thereby to procéede to more graue and déepe disciplines, whereas otherwise their mindes would quickly lothe the wise and prudent woorkes of learned men, wherein in suche vnripe yéeres they take no sparke of delectation at all. And not onely that pro­fite arriseth to children by suche feigned fables, but al­so the vertues of men are couertly thereby commen­ded, and their vices discommended and abhorred. For by the fable of Actaeon, where it is feigned, that when he sawe Diana washinge her selfe in a well, he was imme­diatly [Page] turned into a Hart and so was slayne of his owne Dogges: may be ment that when a man casteth his eies, on the vaine and soone vadynge beautie of the worlde, consentinge thereto in his minde, he seemeth to be tur­ned into a brute beast, and so to be slayne thorough the inordinate desire of his owne affectes. By Tantalus that standeth in the middest of the floode Eridan hauynge before him a tree laden with pleasant apples, he beyng neuerthelesse alwaies thursty and hungry, betokeneth the insatiable desire of couetous persons. The Fa­bles of Atreus, Thiestes, Tereus and Progne signifieth the wicked and abhominable factes wrought and attemp­ted by mortall men. The fall of Icarus is an example to proude and arrogant persons that weeneth to clymbe vp to the Heauens. By Mydas, who obteined of Bacchus that all thinges whiche he touched mought be Golde, is carped the foule sinne of auarice. By Phaeton, that vnskilfully toke in hande to rule the Charriot of the Sunne, are represented those persons whiche attempt thinges passinge their power and capacitie. By Castor and Pollux, turned into a signe in Heauen called Gemini, is signified, that vertuous and godly persons shalbe rewarded after life with perpetuall blisse. And in this fable or feigned ieste of Lucius Apuleius is comprehended a figure of mans life, ministringe moste swéete and de­lectable matter, to such as shalbe desirous to Reade the same. The whiche if your Honorable Lordshippe shal accept and take in good parte, I shall not onely thinke my small trauell and labour well employed, but also receaue a farther comforte to attempt some more se­rious [Page] matter whiche may be more acceptable to your Lordshippe: desiring the same, to excuse my rashe and [...]olde enterprise, at this time, as I nothinge doubte in your Lordshippes goodnesse. To whome I beséeche Al­mighty God to imparte longe lyfe with increase of much Honour.

Your Honors most bounden William Adlington.

To the Reader.

WHen that I had (gen­tle Reader) slightly here & there runne ouer the plea­saunt and delectable iestes of Lucius Apuleius (a man of auncient discent, & en­dewed with singuler lear­ninge) written in suche a franke & flourishing stile, as he séemed to haue the Muses alwaies at will, to féede and maineteine his penne: And when againe I perceiued the matter to minister such excéedinge plen­tie of myrth, as neuer (in my iudgement) the like hath bene showed by any other, I purposed accordinge to my sclender knowledge (though it were rudely, and farre disagréeyng from the fine and excellent dooinges now a dayes) to translate the same into our vulgar tongue, to the ende, that amongest so many sage and serious woorkes (as euery man welny, endeuor dayly to encrease) there might be some freshe and pleasante matter, to recreate the mindes of the Readers withal. Howbeit I was eftesoones driuen from my purpose by two causes: First, perceiuinge that the Authour had written his woorke in so darke and highe a stile, in so strange and absurde woordes, and in such newe inuen­ted phrases, as he séemed rather to set it foorth, to show his magnifency of prose, then to participate his doo­inges to other: Secondly, fearinge lest the translati­on of this present booke (which séemeth a méere iest and fable, and a woorke woorthy to be laughed at, by reason [Page] of the vanitie of the Authour, mighte be contemned & despised of all men, and so consequently, I to be had in derisiō, to occupy my selfe in such friuolous and tri­fling toyes: but on the other side, when I had through­ly learned the intent of the Author, and the purpose why he inuented so sportfull a iest: I was verely per­swaded, that my small trauell, should not onely be ac­cepted of many, but the matter it selfe allowed, & prai­sed of all. Wherfore I intend (God willinge) as nighe as I can, to vtter and open the meaning thereof to the simple and ignorant, whereby they may not take the same, as a thing onely to iest and laugh at (for the Fa­bles of Esope, & the feigninge of Poetes, weare neuer writen for that purpose) but by the pleasauntnes ther­of, be rather induced to the knowledge of their pre­sent estate, and therby trāsforme them selues into the right and perfect shape of men. The argument of the booke is: How Lucius Apuleius the Author him selfe, traueled into Thessaly (being a region in Grece, where all the women for the most parte, be such wonderfull witches, that thei can transfourme men into the figure of beastes) wheare after he had cōtinued a fewe daies, by the mighty force of a violent confection, he was chaunged into a miserable Asse, and nothinge might reduce him to his wonted shape, but the eatinge of a Rose, whiche after endurāce of infinite sorow, at lēgth he obteined by praier. Verely vnder the wrappe of this transformation, is taxed the life of mortall men, when as we suffer our mindes so to be drowned in the sensu­all lustes of the fleshe, and the beastly pleasure therof: (whiche aptly may be called, the violent confection of witches) that we léese wholy the vse of reason and ver­tue (which proprely should be in man) & play the partes [Page] of bruite and sauage beastes. By like occasion we reade how diuers of the compaignions of Vlisses, weare tur­ned by the meruelous power of Circe, into Swine. And finde we not in the Scripture, that Nabuchodo­noser the ninth King of Babylō, by reason of his great dominiōs and roialmes, fell into such excéedyng pride, that he was sodenly transformed of almighty God, in­to an horrible monster, hauyng the head of an Oxe, the féete of a Beare, and the taile of a Lion, and did eate heye as a beast? But as Lucius Apuleius was chaun­ged into his humaine shape by a Rose, the compaigni­ons of Vlisses by great intercession, and Nabuchodo­noser by the continuall prayers of Daniell, whereby they knewe them selues, and liued after a good & ver­tuous life: So can we neuer be restored to the right fi­gure of our selues, except we taste and eate the swéete Rose of reason and vertue, which the rather by media­tion of prayer, we may assuredly attaine. Againe, may not the meaning of this woorke, be altered & turned in this sorte. A man desirous to apply his minde to some excellent art, or giuen to the studie of any of the scien­ces, at the first appeareth to him selfe an Asse without witte, without knowledge, & not much vnlike a bruite beast, till such time as by muche paine and trauell, he hath atchieued to the perfectnes of the same, & tastinge the swéete floure and fruicte of his studies, doth thinke him selfe well brought to the right and very shape of a man. Finally, the Metamorphosie of L. Apuleius, may be resembled to youth without discretion, and his re­duction, to age possessed with wisedome and vertue. Now since this booke of Lucius, is a figure of mās life, and toucheth the nature and manners of mortall men, egginge them forward from their Asinall fourme, to [Page] their humaine and perfect shape, beside the pleasaunt & delectable iestes therein conteined, I trust if my simple translatiō be nothing accepted, yet the matter it selfe, shalbe estéemed by such, as not onely delight to please their fancie in readinge the same, but also take a pat­tern thereby, to regenerate their mindes from brutish and beastly custome. How be it, I haue not so exactly passed thorough the Author, as to pointe euery sentēce accordinge as it is in Latine, or so absolutely transla­ted euery woorde, as it lieth in the prose, (for so the French and Spanish translators haue not done) consi­dering the same in our vulgar tongue would haue ap­peared very obscure and darke, & thereby cōsequently, lothsome to the Reader, but nothing erringe as I trust from the giuen and naturall meaninge of the author, haue vsed more commo [...] and familiar woordes (yet not so muche as I might doo) for the plainer settinge foorth of the same. But how so euer it be (gentle Reader) I pray thée take it in good part, considering that for thée I haue taken this paine, to the intent, that thou maist, Reade the same with pleasure.

FINIS.

THE LIFE OF LVCIVS Apuleius, briefly expressed.

LVcius Apuleius African, an excellent folower of Plato his sect, borne in Maudara, a countrey sometime inha­bited by the Romaines, and vnder the iurisdiction of Syphar, situate, and li­yng vpon the borders of Numidia & Getulia, whereby he calleth him selfe, halfe a Numi­dian, and halfe a Getulian: And Sidonius named him the Platonian Madaurēce: his father called Theseus, had passed all offices of dignitie in his countrey, with much honour: his mother named Saluia, was of such excellent vertue, that she passed all the dames of her time, borne of an auncient house, & descended from the noble Philosopher Plutarche, & Sextus his Nephew. His wife called Pudētila was endowed with as much vertue and richesse as any woman might be. He him selfe was of high & comely stature, gray eied, his heare yellow, & a beawtifull personage: he florished in Car­thage in the time of Iolianus Auitus, and Claudius Maximus procōsules, where he spent his youth in lear­ning the liberall sciences, and much profited vnder his maisters there, whereby not without cause, he glori­ously calleth him selfe, the nourice of Carthage, & the Clestial Muse and venerable mistres of Affrick, sone after at Athenes (wheare in times past the well of all doctrine flourished) he tasted many of the cuppes of the Muses, he learned Poetry, Geometry, Musike, Lo­gicke, and the vniuersall knowledge of Philosophie, and studied not in vaine the nine Muses, that is to say, the nine noble & roiall disciplines. Immediatly after [Page] he went to Rome, & studied there the Latine tongue, with such labour and continuall studie, that he atchie­ued to great eloquēce, and was knowen and approued to be excellently learned, whereby he might woorthily be called Polyhistor, y is to say, one that knoweth much or many thinges. And beinge thus no lesse endewed with eloquēce, than with singular learning, he wrote many bookes for them that should come after: Wherof parte by negligence of times be intercepted, and parte now extant, doo sufficiently declare with how muche wisedome and doctrine he florished, & with how much vertue he excelled emongst the rude and barbarous people. The like was Anacharsis emōgst the most lus­kishe Scythes: but emongst the bookes of Lucius Apu­leius which are perished & preuented, howbeit greatly desired of vs now a daies, was one entituled Banke­ting questions, an other entreatinge of the nature of Fishe, an other of the generation Beastes, an other conteininge his Epigrāmes, and an other called Her­magoras: but suche as are now extant, are the fower bookes named Floridorum, wherein is conteined a flo­rishinge stile, and a sauery kinde of learninge, whiche delighteth, holdeth, and reioyseth the Reader merue­lously, wherein you shall finde a great varietie of thinges, as leapinge one from an other: One excellent and copious oration conteininge all the grace and ver­tue of the art Oratorie, whereby he cléereth him selfe of the crime of art Magicke, which was sclaunderously obiected against him by his enuious aduersaries, wher­in is conteined such force of eloquence and doctrine, as he séemeth to passe and excell him selfe. There is an o­ther booke of the God or spirit of Socrates, whereof S. Augustine maketh often mētion in his booke of the [Page] definition of Spirites and description of men, twoo o­ther bookes of the opinion of Plato, wherein is briefly conteined that which before was largely expressed: one booke of Cosmographie, comprisinge many thinges of Aristoteles Meteors: the Dialogue of Trismegistus, translated by him out of Gréeke into Latine, so fine, that it rather séemeth with more eloquence turned in­to Latine, then it was before writen in Greke: but principaly, these eleuen bookes of the Golden Asse, are enriched with such pleasaunt matter, with such excel­lencie and variety of florishinge Tales, that nothing may be more swéete and delectable, whereby woorthely they may be intituled: The bookes of the Golden Asse, for the passinge stile & matter therein. For what can be more acceptable than this Asse of Gold in déede: How be it there be many whiche would rather Intitle it Metamorphosis, that is to say, a transfiguration or transformation, by reason of the Argument and mat­ter therein.

FINIS.

THE PREFACE OF THE AVTHOVR, to his sonne Faustinus, and vnto the Readers of this booke.

THat I to thee some ioyous iestes, may show in gentle glose:
And frākly feede thy bēded eares, with passing pleasāt prose.
So that thou daine in seemely sorte, this wāton booke to view
That is set out and garnisht fine, with writen Phrases newe.
I will declare how one by happe, his humaine figure lost,
And how in brutishe fourmed shape, his lothed life he tost:
And how he was in course of time, from such estate vnfold.
Who eftsoones turnd to pristine shape, his lot vnlucky told.

WHat and who he was, attend a while and you shall vnderstand, that it was euen I, the wri­ter of mine owne Metamorphosie, & straunge alteration of figure. Hymettus, Athens, Isthmia, E­phire, Tenaros, and Sparta, beinge fat & fertill soiles (as I pray you giue credit to the bookes of more euerla­sting fame) bée places where mine auncient progenie & lignage did sometime flourishe: there I say, in Athens when I was yonge, I went first to schoole. Sone after (as a stranger) I arriued at Rome, wheras by great in­dustrie & without instruction of any scholemaster I at­chieued to the full perfection of the Latine tongue: be­holde, I first craue & begge your pardon, least I should happen to displease or offend any of you by the rude & rustike vtterance of this straunge & forrein language. And verely, this new alteration of speach doth corre­spond to the enterprised matter whereof I purpose to entreate, I wil set foorth vnto you a pleasant Grecian lest. Wherunto gentle Reader if thou wilt giue atten­dāt eare, it wil minister vnto thée such delectable mat­ter, as thou shalt be well contented withall.

FINIS.

The first booke of Lucius Apuleius of the Golden Asse.

¶How Apuleius ridinge into Thessalie, fortuned to fall into companie with twoo straungers, that reasoned toge­ther of the mighty power of Witches.

cap. 1.

AS I fortuned to take my voiage into Thessalie, A countrey where are many Inchanteresses and Witches. about certaine affaires whiche I had to doo (for there mine auncestrie by my mothers side inha­biteth, descended of the ligne of that moste excellent person Plutarche, & of Sextus the philosopher his Ne­phew, whiche is to vs a great woorshippe and honour: The vertue of parentes makes the children ho­nored. And after that by much trauell aud great paine, I had passed ouer the high mountaines and slipperie valleis, and had ridden thorough the cloggy fallowed fieldes, perceiuinge that my horse did waxe somewhat slowe, & to the intent likewise, I might repose and strengthen my selfe, (beinge wery with ridinge) I lighted of my horse, and wipinge away the sweate from euery parte of his bodie, I vnbridled him, and walked him softly in my hande, to the ende he might pisse, and ease him selfe of his werines, and trauell: And while he wente gra­singe freshly in the fielde (castinge his head sometimes aside as a token of reioysing and gladnes) I perceiued a litle before me twoo compaignions ridinge, & so I o­uertakinge them made the third: And while I listened to heare their communicatiō, the one of them laughed and mocked his fellow: saiyng, leaue of I pray thée and speake no more, for I cannot abide to heare thee tell [Page] such absurde & incredible lies: Which when I heard, I desired to heare some newes, and said: I pray you Mai­sters make me partaker of your talke, that am not so curious, as desirous to know all your communication: So shall we shorten our iourney, and easely passe this high hill before vs, by merry and pleasant talke: but he that laughed before at his felowe, said againe: verely this tale is as true, as if a man would say, that by Sor­cerie and inchauntment the floodes might be enforced to run against their course: VVitches in old time weare supposed to be of such power that they coulde pull downe the Moone by their inchauntment. the seas to be immoueable: the ayre to lacke the blowinge of windes: the Sunne to be restrained from his naturall race: the Moone to purge his skumme vpon hearbes and trées, to serue for sorceries: the Starres to be pulled from heauen, the day to be darkened, and the darke night to continew still. Then I, beinge more desirouse to heare his talke then his companions, said: I pray you, that beganne to tell your tale euen now, leaue not of so, but tell the re­side we. And turning to the other, I saide: You perhaps that are of an obstinate minde and grosse eares, mocke and contemne those thinges whiche are reported for truth, know you not, that it is accoūted vntrew by the praue opinion of men, which either is rarely séene, sel­dome heard, or that passeth the capacitie of mans rea­son, whiche if it be more narrowly skanned, you shalt not onely finde it euident & plaine, but also very easie to be brought to passe.

¶How Apuleius tolde to the twoo straungers, what he sawe a Iuglar doo in Athens.

Cap. 2.

THe other night, beinge at supper with a sorte of hūgry fellowes, while I did gréedely put a great [Page 2] morsell of meate in my wouth, that was fried with the flower of chéese and barley, it cleaued so fast in the pas­sage of my throate, and stopped my winde, in such sort that I was welnie choked. And yet at Athens before the porche there, called Peale, I sawe with these eies, a Iugler that swalowed vp a twoohand swoorde with a very keene edge, and by & by, for a litle money that we, that looked on, gaue him, he deuoured a chasing speare, with the pointe downward. And after that he had cō ­uaide the whole speare within the closure of his bodie, and brought it out againe behinde, there appeared on the toppe thereof (whiche caused vs all to maruell) a fayre boye, pleasaunt and nimble, windinge and tur­ninge him selfe in such sorte, that you would suppose that he had neither bone nor gristle, and verely thinke that he were the naturall Serpent, crepinge & slidinge on the knotted staffe, The God of me­dicine is called Asculapius. whiche the God of Medicine is feigned to beare. But turninge me to him that began his Tale, I pray you (ꝙ I) follow your purpose, and I alone will giue credite vnto you, and for your paines will pay your charges at the next Inne we come vnto. To whome he aunsweared, Certes sir, I thanke you for your gentle offer, and at your request, I will pro­ceade in my tale: but first I will sweare vnto you by the light of this Sunne y shineth here, y those thinges whiche I shall tell be trewe, least when you come to the next Citie called Thessalie, you should doubte any thinge, of that whiche is rife in the mouthes of euery person, and done before the face of all men: And that I may first make relation vnto you, what, & who I am, and whither I goe, & for what purpose: know ye, that I am of Egin; trauelinge these countries about from Thessaly to Etolia, and from Etolia to Beotia, to pro­uide [Page] for hony, chéese, and other victuales to sell againe: And vnderstāding, that at Hippata (which is the prin­cipall Citie of all Thessalie) is accustomed to be solde newe chéeses of excéedinge good taste and relishe, I for­tuned on a day to goe thither, to make my market there, but (as it often happeneth) I came in an euill houre, for one Lupus a purueiour had bought and en­grossed vp all the daie before, and so I was deceaued. Wherefore, towardes night (being very wery) I went to the baines to refreshe my selfe, and beholde, I fortu­ned to espie, my compaignion Socrates sittinge vpon the grounde, couered with a torne and course mantell, who who so meigre and of so sallowe and miserable a countenance, that I scantly knew him: for fortune had brought him into such estate and calamitie, that he ve­rely séemed as a common begger, that standeth in the stréetes to craue the beneuolence of the passers by: To­wardes whome (how be it he was my singuler friende & familiar acquaintance, Miserie maketh some men forget acquaintance. yet halfe in despayre) I drewe me, and said: Alas my Socrates, what meaneth this? how fareth it with thée? what crime hast thou commit­ted? verely there is great lamentation and wéepinge made for thée at home: Thy childrē are in warde by de­crée of the prouinciall iudge: thy wife (hauinge ended her mourninge time in lamentable wise with face and visage bloubered with teares, in suche sorte that she hath welny wept out both her eies) is cōstrained by her parentes to put out of remembrance the vnfortunate losse and lacke of thée at home, and (against her will) to take a newe husbande. And doest thou liue here as a ghost or hegge, to our great shame & ignomie? Then answeared he to me, & saide: O my friende Aristome­nus, now perceaue I well that you are ignorant of the [Page 3] whirlinge chaunges, the vnstable forces, and slipperie inconstance of fortune: and therewithall he couered his face (euen then blushing for very shame) with his rug­ged mātell, in so much that from his nauell downward he appeared al naked. But I (not willing to sée him any lenger in suche great miserie and calamitie) toke him by the hande and lifted him vp from the grounde: who (hauing his face couered in such sorte) let fortune (ꝙ he) triumphe yet more, let her haue her sway, and finishe that whiche she hath begunne. And therwithall I put of one of my garmentes and couered him, and immedi­atly I brought him to the baine, and caused him to be annointed, wiped, and the filthie skurfe of his body to be rubbed away, whiche done (although I weare very wery my selfe) yet I ledde the poore miser to my Inne, where he reposed his bodie vpon a bedde, and then I brought him meate and drinke, and so we talked toge­ther: for there we might be mery & laugh at our plea­sure, and so we weare, vntill suche time as he (fetching a pitifull sighe from the bottom of his harte, and bea­tinge his face in miserable sorte) began to say.

¶How Socrates in his returne from Macedonie to Larissa, was spoiled and robbed, and how he fell acquainted with one Meroe, a Witche.

Cap. 3

ALas poore miser that I am, that for the onely de­sire to sée a game of triall of weapons, am fallen into these miseries and wretched snares of mis­fortune. For in my retorne from Macedonie, whereas I solde all my wares, and plaied the marchant by the space of tenne monethes, a litle before that I came to Larissa, I turned out of the way to v [...]ew the situation [Page] of the countrey there, and beholde in the bottom of a deepe valley, I was sodenly enuironed with a compa­ny of théeues, who robbed & spoiled me, of such thinges as I had, and yet woulde hardely suffer me to escape. But I (beinge in such extremitie) in the ende, was hap­pely deliuered from their cruell handes: and so I for­tuned to come to the house of an old woman that solde wine, called Meroe: who had her tongue sufficiētly in­structed to flattery: vnto whome I opened the causes of my longe pexegrination and carefull trauell, and of nune vnlucky abuēture, and after that I had declared vnto her such thinges as then presently came to my re­membraunce, she gentely entertained me, and made me good chere, and by and by beinge pricked by carnall desire, she brought me to her owne bedde chamber, where as I (poore miser) (the very first night of our li­yng together) did purchase to my selfe this miserable face, To vse and haūt women maketh mē haue meigre and palc [...]aces. and for her lodging I gaue her such apparell, as the théeues left to couer me withall.

Then I (vnderstanding the cause of his miserable estate) said vnto him: In faith, thou art woorthy to su­staine the most extreme miserie and calamitie, whiche hast defiled and maculate thine òwne bodie, forsaken thy wife traitorouslie, and dishonoured thy children, parentes, and friendes, for the loue of a vile harlot and olde strumpet. When Socrates harde me raile against Meroe in such sorte, he helde vp his finger to me, and as halfe abashed, said: peace, peace, I pray you, and (lo­kinge about least any person should here,) I pray you (ꝙ he) take héede what you say against so venerable a woman as she is, lest by your intemperate tongue you [...]che some harme. Then (with resemblance of admi­ration) what (ꝙ I) is she so excellent a person as you [Page 4] name her to be? I pray you tell me. Then answeared he, verely she is a Magicien, whiche hath power to rule the Heauens, to bringe downe the skie, to beare vp the earth, to turne the waters into hilles, and the hilles into runninge waters, to lift vp the terrestiall spirites into the ayre, & to pull the Goddes out of the heauens, to ertinguishe the Planetes, and to lighten the d [...]epe darkenes of hell. Then said I vnto Socrates, I pray thée leaue of this high and mysticall kinde of talke, and tell the matter in a more plaine and simple fashion. Then answeared he, will you heare one or twoo, or mo of her factes, which she hath done, for where as she en­forceth, not onely the inhabitantes of y e countrey here, but also the Indians and the Aethiopes the one and the other, and also the Antictons, to loue her in moste raginge sorte, such are but trifles and chippes of her oc­cupation, but I pray you giue eare, and I will declare of more greater matters whiche she hath done openly and before the face of all men.

¶How Meroe the witche turned diuers persons into mise­rable Beastes.

Cap. 4.

IN faith Aristomenus, to tell you the truth, this wo­man had a certaine louer, whome by the vtterance of one onely woorde, she turned him into a Beuer, because he loued an other woman beside her, and the reason why she transformed him into suche a beast, is, for that it is his nature, when he perceiueth the hun­ters and houndes to drawe after him, to bite of his mē ­bers, and lay them in the way, that the houndes may be at a stoppe when they finde them, and to the intent it might so happen vnto him, (because he fancied an [Page] other woman) she turned him into that kinde of shape. Semblably she chaunged one of her neighbours, being an olde man and one that solde wine, into a frogge, in that he was one of her occupation, and therefore she bare him grudge, and now the poore miser swimminge in one of his pipes of wine, and welny drowned in the dregges, doth crie and call with a hoarse voice, for his olde gestes and acquaintance that passe by. Likewise she turned one of the Aduocates of the courte (because he pleaded and spake against her in a rightfull cause) into a horned Ramme, and now the poore Rāme is be­come and Aduocate. Moreouer she caused that the wife of a certaine louer that she had, should neuer be deliue­red of her childe, but accordinge to the computation of all men, it is eight yéeres past since the poore woman began first to swell, and now she is increased so bigge, that she séemeth as though she would bring foorth some great Oliphant, whiche when it was knowen abroade and published thorough out al the towne, they toke in­dignation against her, and ordeined that the next day she should most cruelly be stoned to death, whiche pur­pose of theirs she preuented, by the vertue of her en­chauntmentes, and as Medea (who obtained of kinge Creon but one daies respite before her departure) did burne all his house, him and his doughter, so she (by her coniurations and inuocations of sprites, whiche she v­seth in a certaine hole in her house, as she her selfe de­clared vnto me the next day followinge) closed all the persons of the towne so sure in their howses, and with such violence of power, that for the space of twoo daies, they coulde not come foorth, nor open their gates nor doores, nor breake downe their walles, whereby they weare enforced by mutuall consent, to crie vnto her, [Page 5] and to binde them selues (streictly) by othes, that they would neuer afterwardes molest or hurt her, & more­ouer if any did offer her any iniurie they would be rea­dy to defende her, wherevpon she (moued at their pro­mises, and stirred by pitie) released all the towne. But she conueied the principall Authour of this ordinance, about midnight, with all his house, the walles, the grounde, and the foundation, into an other towne di­stant from thense a hundred miles, situate and beinge on the toppe of a high hill, and by reason thereof desti­tute of water, and because the edifices & houses, weare so nighe builded together, that it was not possible for the house to stande there, she threwe downe the same before the gate of the towne. Then spake I and said: O my friende Socrates, you haue declared vnto me many meruelous thinges and straunge chaunces, and moreouer stroken me with no small trouble of minde, yea rather with great feare, least the same old woman vsinge the like practise, should fortune to here all our Witches are supposed tobeare whatsoeuer is saide. communication: wherefore let vs now sléepe, and after that we haue taken our rest, let vs rise betime in the morninge and ride away from hens before day, as far as we may possible.

¶How Socrates and Aristomenus slept together in one cham­ber, and how they were handled by Witches.

Cap. 5.

IN speakinge these woordes, and deuisinge with my selfe of our departing the next morrow, least Meroe the Witche should play by vs, as she had donē by di­uers other persons: It fortuned that Socrates did fall a sleape, and slept very soundly, by reason of his trauell and plentie of meate and wine, wherewithall he had [Page] filled him selfe. Wherefore I closed and barred fast the doores of the chamber, and put my bedde behinde the doore, [...]are and care [...] mē wa­ [...]nge. and so laide me downe to rest, but I could in no wise sleape for the great feare which was in my harte, vntill it was about midnight, & then I began to slom­ber: but alas, beholde sodenly the chamber doores brake open, the lockes, boltes and postes fell downe, that you would verely haue thought, that some théeues had ben presently come to haue spoiled and robbed vs. And my bedde whereon I laye beinge a trockle bed, fashioned in forme of a cradle, and one of the féete broken & rot­ten, by violence was turned vpside downe, and I like­wise was ouerwhelmed and couered liyng in the fame. Then perceaued I in my selfe, that certaine affectes of the minde by nature doth chaunce contrarie. For as teares oftentimes trickleth downe the chéekes of him that seeth or heareth some ioyfull newes, so I being in this fearfull perplexitie, could not forbeare laughinge, to sée how of Aristomenus I was made like vnto a snayle in his shell. And while I lay on the grounde co­uered in this sorte, I péeped vnder the bed to sée what would happen. And behold there entered in twoo olde wemen, the one bearinge a burninge torche, and the o­ther a sponge and a naked swoorde: And so in this ha­bite they stoode aboute Socrates beinge fast a steape. Then she (which bare the swoorde) said vnto the other, behold sister Panthia this is my déere and my swéete harte, whiche both daie and night hath abused my wā ­ton youthfulnes. This is he (who litle regardinge my loue) dothe not onely diffame me with reprochfull woordes, but also intendeth to runne away: And I shal be forsaken by like cras [...]e as Vlisses did vse, and shall continually bewaile my solitarines as Calipso, (which [Page 6] said) she pointed to wardes me, that lay vnder the bed, and showed me to Panthia. This is he (ꝙ she) which is his counseler, and perswadeth him to forsake me, and now (being at the pointe of death) he lieth prostrate on the grounde couered with his bedde, and hath séene all our dooinges, and hopeth to escape (skotfrée) from my handes, but I will cause that he shall repent him selfe too late, nay rather forthwith of his former vntēperate language, and his present curiositie. Whiche woordes when I harde, I fell into a colde sweate, and my harte trembled with feare, in so much that the bed ouer me did like wise rattle & shake. Then spake Panthia vnto Meroe, and said: Sister, let vs by and by teare him in péeces, or els tie him by the members and so cutte them of. Then Meroe (being so named because she was a ta­uerner Meroe, so called of Meris, which in Englis he is stronge wine vntempred. and loued well good wines) answeared: nay ra­ther lette him liue, and burie the Corps of this poore wretche in some hole of the earth, and therewithall she turned the head of Socrates on the other side, & thrust her swoorde vp to the hiltes into the lefte parte of his necke, and receaued the bloud, that gushed out, with a potte, that no droppe thereof fell beside, which thinges I sawe with mine owne eies, and (as I thinke) to the intent she might alter nothinge that pertained to sa­crifice, whiche she accustomed to make, she thrust her hande downe into the entrailles of his bodie, & (search­inge aboute) at length brought foorth the harte of my miserable compaignion Socrates, who (hauinge his throte cut in such sorte) yéelded out a dolefull crie, and gaue vp the ghoste. Then Panthia stopped the wide wounde of his throate with the sponge, and said: O Sponge spronge and made of the sea, beware that thou The sponge [...] meth of the [...] passe not by the runninge riuer. This being saide, the [Page] one of them moued and turned vp my bedde, and their they stridde ouer me, and slapped their buttockes vpō my face, and all bepissed me, till I was wringing wet: when this was ended, they went their waies, and the doores cl [...]sed fast, the postes stoode in their olde places, and the lockes & boltes were shut againe. But I, that l [...]ye vpon the grounde, like one without soule, naked and colde, and wringinge wette with pisse, like to one that weare more then halfe dead, yet reuiuinge my selfe, and apointed as I thinke for the gallowes, began to say: Alas what shall become of me to morrow, when my compaignion shalbe founde murdred here in the chamber? The presumpti­ons of Magi­strates. To whom shall I séeme to tell any similitude of truth, when as I shall tell the truth in déede? They will say if thou wearest vnable to resist the violence of the wemē, yet shouldest thou haue cried for helpe, wile thou suffer the man to be slaine before thy face and say nothinge? Or why did not they slea thée like wise? why did they spare thée that stoode by and saw them cōmitte that horrible facte? Wherefore although thou hast esca­ped their hādes, yet thou shalt not escape ours. While I pondred these thinges with my selfe, the night passed on: And so I thought best to take my horse before day, and got forwarde in my iourney. How be it the waies were vnknowen vnto me, and thereupō I toke vp my pacquet, vnlocked and vnbarred the doores, but those good and faithfull doores which in the night did open of their owne accorde, coulde then scantly be opened with their keies. And when I was out I cried hossra, Osteler, where arte thou, open the stable doore, for I will ride away by and by. Suche drousie seruaeuntes haue ready answeres The Osteler liyng behinde the stable doore vpon a pallet, and halfe a sleape, what (ꝙ he) doo not you know that the waies he very dange­rous? [Page 7] what meane you to rise at this time of night? If you perhaps (giltie of some heynous crime) be werie of your life, yet thinke you not that we are suche sottes that we will die for you. Then said I, it is welny day, & moreouer what can théeues take from him that hath nothinge? doest not thou know (foole as thou arte) that The wayfaring man that hath no monie may singe merely be­fore the theefe if thou be naked, if tenne Giantes should assaile thée, they coulde not spoile or robbe thée? Whereunto the drowsie Osteler halfe a sleape, & turninge on the other side, answeared: what know I whether you haue mur­dred your compaignion whome you brought in yester­night or no, and now seke the meanes to escape away. O Lord, at that time I remēber, that the earth sée­med to open, and that I sawe at hell gate the dogge Cerbe­rus Cerberus is the dogge of, hell feigned by the Poetes to stād a [...] Plutoes gates gaping to deuoure me, and then I verely belieued, that Meroe did not spare my throate, moued with pi­tie, but rather cruelly pardoned me to bringe me to the gallowes. Wherfore, I returned to my chamber, and there deuised with my selfe in what sorte I should fi­nishe my life. But when I sawe that fortune woulde minister vnto me no other instrumēt, then that whiche my bedde proffred me, I said: O bedde, O bedde, moste déere vnto me at this present, whiche hast abode and suffred with me so many miseries, iudge and arbiter of such thinges as were done here this night, whome onely I may call to witnesse for mine innocencie, ren­der (I say) vnto me some holsome weapon to ende my life that am most willinge to die. And therewithall I pulled out a piece of the rope wherwith the bedde was corded, and tied one ende thereof about a rafter by the window, and with the other ende I made a slidinge knotte, and stoode vpon my bedde, and so put my necke into hit. A [...]d when I leped from the bedde, thinkinge [Page] verel [...] to strangle my selfe and so die, beholde the rope beinge olde and rotten brast in the middle, and I fell downe tomblinge vpon Socrates that lay vnder. And euē at that same very time, the Osteler came in criyng with a lowde voice, and said where are you that made such hast at midnight, & now lies wallowinge a bedde, whereupon (I know not whether it was by my fall or by the great crie of the Osteler) Socrates (as waking out of a sleape) did rise vp first and said: It is not with­out cause that strangers doo speake euill of all suche Ostelers, for this captife in his comminge in, & with his criyng out, I thinke vnder a colour to steale away something, hath waked me out of a sound sleape. Then I rose vp ioyfull, with a mery countenaunce, sa [...]ynge: Beholde good Osteler, my friende, my compaignion & my brother whome thou diddest falsely affirme to be murdred by me this night. And therewithall I embra­sed my friende Socrates and kissed him, but he smel­lyng the stinke of the pisse wherwith those hegges had embrued me, thrust me away and said clense thy selfe from that filthy odour, and then he began gentely to enquire how that noysome sente happened vnto me, but I (finely feigninge and couloringe the matter for the time) did breake of his talke, and toke him by the hande and saide, why tarrie we? why leese we the plea­sure of this faire morning? Let vs goe, and so I toke vp my pacquette, and paide the charges of the house and departed: and we had not gone a mile out of the towne but it was broade day, & then I diligently looked vpon Socrates throate to sée if I could espie the place where Meroe thrust in her swoorde, but when I could not per­ceaue any such thinge, I thought with my selfe what a madde man am I, that (beinge ouercome with wine [Page 8] yesternight) haue dreamed such terrible thinges: Be­hold I see Socrates is sound, salue & in health, where is his woūde? where is the sponge? where is his great and newe cutte? and then I spake to him and saide: ve­rely it is not without occasion that Phisitions of expe­rience doth affirme, that such as fill their gorges abun­dantly with meate and drinke shall dreame of dire and horrible sightes, for I my selfe (not tempryng mine ap­petite yesternight from the pottes of wine) did séeme to sée this night strange and cruell visions, that euen yet I thinke my selfe sprinkled & wette with humaine bloud: whereunto Socrates laughing, made answeare and saide: Nay thou arte not wette with the bloud of men, but thou art embrued with stinkinge pisse: and verely I my selfe dreamed this night, that my throate was cutte and that I felt the paine of the wounde, and that my harte was pulled out of my bellie, and the re­membrance thereof makes me nowe to feare, for my knées doo tremble that I can vneth goe any further, & therefore I would faine eate somewhat to strengthen and reuiue my spirites: then said I, beholde here is thy breakefast, and therwithall I opened my skrippe, that hanged vpō my shoulder, and gaue him bread & chéese, and we satte downe vnder a great plane tróe and I eate parte with him: And while I behelde him eatinge gréedely, I perceaued that he waxed meigre and pale, & that his liuely colour vaded away, in so much that (be­inge in great feare and remembringe those terrible fu­ries of whome I lately dreamed) the firste morsell of bread that I put in my mouth (whiche was but very small) did so sticke in my iawes that I could nether swallowe it downe nor yet yelde it vp, and moreouer the small time of our beinge together encreased my [Page] feare, and what is he, that seinge his compaignion die in the high waie before his face, will not greatly lamēt and be sorie: but when that Socrates had eaten suffi­ciently he wared very thirstie, for in déede he had wel­nie deuoured all a whole chéese, and beholde euill for­tune, there was behinde the plane trée a pleasant run­ninge water as cleere as Cri [...]tall, and I said vnto him: come hither Socrates to this water and drinke thy fil. And then he rose and came to the riuer, and knéeled downe vpon the side of the banke to drinke, but he had skase touched y water with his lippes, whē as behold, the woūde of his throate opened wide, [...]anthia saide before beware spoge that thou passe not by the runninge riuer. and the sponge sodenly fell into the water and after issued out a litle remnant of bloud, and his bodie (beinge then without life) had fallen into the riuer, had not I caught him by the legge, and so pulled him vp. And after that I had lamented a good space the death of my wretched com­paigniō, I buried him in the sandes there by the riuer. Which done, in great feare I rode through many out­waies and deserte places, and as culpable of the death of Socrates, I forsoke my countrey, my wife, and my children, and came to Aetolia where I maried an other wife. This tale tolde Aristomenus, and his fellowe whiche before obstinately would giue no credite vnto hi, begā to say: Verely there was neuer so foolish a tale, nor a more absurde lie tolde then this: & then he spake vnto me, saiyng: Ho sir, what you are I know not, but your habite and countenāce declareth, He speaketh to Apulcius. that you should be some honest gentleman, doo you beléeue his tale? yea verely (ꝙ I) why not? for what so euer the fates hath apointed to men, that I beléeue shall happen. For ma­ny thingès chaunce vnto me, and vnto you, and to di­uers others, which beinge declared vnto the ignorant [Page 9] be accompted as lies. But verely I giue credite vnto his tale, and render entier thankes vnto him in that (by the pleasant relatiō thereof) we haue quickly passed and shortned our iourney, and I thinke that my horse also was delighted with the same, and hath brought me to the gate of this Citie without any paine at all. Thus ended both our talke and iourney, for they twoo turned on the lefte hande to the next villages, and I rode into the Citie.

¶How Apuleius came to a Citie called Hipate, and was lodged in one Mil [...]s house, and brought him letters from Demea of Corinthe.

Cap. 6.

AFter that those twoo compaigniōs were depar­ted, I entred into the Citie, where I espied an old woman, of whome I enquired whether that Citie was called Hypata, or no, who answeared yeas: Then I demaunded whether she knewe one Milo an Alderman of the Citie, whereat she laughed, and said: verely it is not without cause that Milo is called an el­der man, and accompted as chiefe of those whiche dwel without the walles of the Citie: To whome I saide againe, I pray thée good mother doo not mocke, but tell me what manner of man he is, and where he dwelleth: Marry (ꝙ she) doo not you sée those baye windowes whiche on the one side abutte to the gate of the Citie, and on the other side to the next lane, there Milo dwel­leth, very riche both in money & substance, Auarice maket [...] men ill spok [...] of but by rea­son of his great Auarice and insatiable couetousnes, he is euill spoken of, & he is a man that liueth all by Vsu­rie, and lendinge his money vpon pledges. Moreouer he dwelleth in a small house, and is euer countinge his [Page] money, and hath a wife that is a compaigniō of his ex­treme miserie, Couet ousnes is extreme misery. neither kepeth he any more in his house then one onely maide who goeth appareled like vnto a begger: which when I heard, I laughed with my self, & thought: in faith my fréende Demeas hath serued me well, which hath sent me (being a straunger) vnto such a man, in whose house I shall not be afearde either of smooke or of the sent of meate, & therewithall I rode to the doore whiche was fast barred, and knocked aloude, thēn there came foorth a maide whiche saide, Ho Sira, that knockes so faste, in what kinde of sorte will you borrow money, know you not that we vse to take no gage vnlesse it be either plate or Iuelles? To whome I answeared, I pray thée maide speake more gētle & tel me whether thy maister be within or no. Yes (ꝙ she) that he is, why doo you aske? Marry said I, I am come from Corinthe, and haue brought him letters frō De­meas his fréende. Then saide the maide, I pray you tarry here till I tell him so, The n [...]ggarde kepeth close his doores alwaies. and therewithall she closed faste the doores, and went in, and after a while she re­turned againe, & said, my master desireth you to alight and come in: and so I did, whereas I found him sitting vpon a litle bedde, goinge to supper, and his wife satte at his féete, but there was no meate vpon the table, & so (by apointment of the maide) I came to him, and salu­ted him, & deliuered the letters whiche I brought from Demeas: whiche when he had redde, he said, verely I thanke my fréende Demeas much, in that he hath sent vnto me so woorthie a ge [...]t as you are: And therewithal he commaunded his wife to sitte away, and bidde me sitte in her place, whiche when I refused, by reason of courtesie, he pulled me by the garment and willed me to sitte downe, for we haue (ꝙ he) no other stoole here, [Page 10] nor no other great store of household stuffe for feare of robbinge. Then I (accordinge to his commaundement) sat downe: and he fell in further communication with me, and saide: Verely I doo coniecte by the comely fea­ture of your bodie, and by the maidenly shame fastnes of your face, that you are a gentle man borne, as my fréende Demeas hath no lesse declared the same in his letters: Wherefore I pray you take in good parte our poore lodginge, and behold, yonder chamber is at your cōmaundement, vse it as your owne, and if you be con­tented therewithall, you shall resemble and follow the vertuous qualities of your good father Theseus, who disdeigned not the slēder and poore cotage of Hecades. And then he called his maide, whiche was named Fo­tis, and said: Tarry this gentlemans pacquette into the chamber, and lay it vp safelie, and bringe quickely water to washe him, and a towell to rubbe him, & other thinges necessarie: and then bringe him to the next baines, for I knowe that he is very werie of trauell. These thinges when I harde, I partly perceaued the manners of Milo, and (endeuouring to bringe my selfe further in his fauour) I saide, Sir there is no néede of any of these things, for they haue ben euery where mi­nistred vnto me by the way, how be it I will goe vnto the baines, but my chiefest care is that my horse be wel loked too, for he brought me hither roundly, and there­fore I pray thée Fotis take this money & by some heye and Dates for him.

¶How Apuleius goinge to bie fis [...]e mette with his com­paignion Pithias.

Cap. 7.

WHen this was done, & all my thinges brought into the chamber, I walked towardes the [Page] vaines, but first I went to the market to bie some vic­tualles for my supper, where as I saw great plentie of fish set out to be solde: and so I cheapened parte therof, and that whiche they first helde at a hundred pence, I bought at length for twenty: whiche when I had done and was departinge away, one of mine olde compaig­nions, and fellow at Athens, named Pithias, fortuned to passe by, and viewinge me a good space, in the ende brought me to his remembraunce, and gentely came and kissed me, saiyng: O my déere fréende Lucius, it is a great while paste sithens we twoo sawe eche other, and moreouer from the time that we departed frō our maister Vestius, I neuer harde any newes of you, I pray you Lucius tell me the cause of your peregrinatiō hither: Then I answeared and said: I will make rela­tion thereof vnto you to morrow: but I pray you tell me, what meaneth these seruitours that follow you, & these roddes or verges whiche they beare: and this ha­bite whiche you weare, [...]o vsed Magi­strates to goo sometime in [...]ome. like vnto a Magistrate: verely I thinke that you haue obteined your owne desire, wherof I am right gladde. Then answeared Pithias, I beare the office and rule of the clarke of the market, & therefore if you will haue any pittance for your sup­per, speake and I will puruey it for you: Then I than­ked him hartely, and said I had bought meate sufficiēt already. But Pithias when he espied my basket wher­in my fishe was, toke it and shaked it, and demaun­ded of me what I payed for all my sprottes: in faith (ꝙ I) I could skase enforse the fishmonger to sell them for twentie pence, whiche when he harde, he brought me backe againe into the market, and enquired of me of whome I bought them, I showed him the olde man which satte in a corner, whome by and by (by reason of [Page 11] his office) he did greatly blame and said. Is it thus that you serue and handle straungers? and specially our fréendes? wherefore sell you this fishe so déere which is not woorth a halfpennie? Now perceaue I wel that you are an occasion to make this place, which is the princi­pall Citie of al Thessalie to be forsaken of all men, & to reduce it into an inhabitable desert, by reason of your excessiue prices of victuales, but assure your selfe that you shall not escape without punishment, and you shal know what mine office is, and how I ought to punish such as doo offend. Then he toke my basket and cast the fishe on the grounde, and commaunded one of his ser­geantes to treade them vnder his féete: this done he perswaded me to departe, & said that that onely shame and reproche done vnto the olde caitife did suffise him, so I went away all amased and astonied, towardes the bames (considering with my selfe, and deuisinge of the grace of my compaignion Pythias) where when I had washed and refreshed my bodie, I returned againe to Milos house both without money and meate, and so gotte into my chamber, then came Fotis immediatly vnto me, and said that her maister desired me to come to supper, but I (not ignorant of Milos abstinence) prayed that I might be perdoned, since as I thought best to ease my weary bones rather with sleape & quiet­nes, than with meate: when Fotis had tolde this vnto Milo, he came him selfe, and toke me by the hande, and while I did modestly excuse me, I wil not (ꝙ he) depart from this place, vntill suche time as you shall goo with me, and to confirme the same he bounde his woordes with an othe, whereby he enforced me to follow him and so he brought me into his chamber, where he satte him downe vpon the bedde, and demaūdes of me how [Page] his fréende Demeas did, his wife his children and all his familie: & I made him answeare to euery question, specialy he enquired the causes of my peregrination & trauell, whiche when I had declared, he [...] yet busilie de­maunded of the state of my countrie, and of the chiefe Magistrates there, and principaly of our Lieutenant and Viceroye, who when he perceaued that I was not onely weried by trauel, but also with talke, and that I fell a sleape in the middest of my tale, and further that I spake nothinge directly or aduisedly, he suffred me to departe to my chamber. So scaped I at length from the pratlinge and hungry supper of this ranke olde man, Such suppers v­seth vserers to make. and beinge compelled by sleape and not by meate (as hauinge supped onely with talke) I returned into my chamber and there be toke me to my quiet and longe desired rest.

¶Here endeth the firste booke of Lucius Apuleius.

The seconde Booke of Lucius Apuleius of the Golden Asse.

¶How Apuleius fortuned to meete with his cosin Byr­rhena.

Cap. 8.

AS soone as night was passed, and the day began to springe, I fortuned to awake and rose out of my bedde as halfe amased, and (very desirous to knowe and sée some meruelous and strange thinges, remembringe with my selfe that I was in the middest part of all Thessalie, whereas, by the common reporte of all the world, the sorceries and enchauntmentes are most vsed) I oftentimes repeted with my selfe the tale of my compaignion Aristomenus touchinge the man­ner of this Citie, and (beinge moued by great desire) I viewed the whole situation thereof, neither was there any thinge which I sawe there, that I did beléeue to be the same whiche it was in déede, but euery thinge séemed vnto me to be transformed and altered into other shapes by the wicked power of sorcerie and inchaunt­ment, in so much that I thought that the stones which I founde, were indurate & turned from men into that figure, and that the birdes whiche I harde chirpinge, and the trées without the walles of the Citie, and the runninge waters were chaunged from men into suche kinde of likenesses: And further I thought that the sta­tues, images, and walles could goe, and the oxen and other brute beastes could speake & tel straunge newes, and that immediatly I should sée and here some Oracle [Page] from the Heauen, and from the gléede of the Sunne. Thus beinge astonied or rather dismaide & vexed with desire, knowinge no certaine place whither I enten­ded to goe, I wente from streate to streate, & at length (as I curiously gas [...]d on euery thinge) I fortuned vn­wares to come into the market place, where as I espied a certaine woman accompaignted with a great many seruantes, towardes whome I drewe nie and vlewed her garmentes [...]esette with golde and pretious stone, in suche sorte that she séemed to be some noble Matron: And there was an olde man whiche followed her: who (as sone as he had espied me) said to him selfe, verely this is Lucius, and then he came and embrased me, and by and by he went vnto his mistres, and whispered in her eare, & came to me againe, saiynge: How is it Lu­cius, that you will not salute your déere cosin and sin­guler fréende? To whome I answered: Sir I dare not be so bolde as to take acquaintance of an vnknowen woman: how be it as halfe ashamed I drewe towardes her, and she turned her selfe and said: Beholde how he resembleth the very same grace as his mother Saluia doth, beholde his countenaunce and stature agreyng thereto in eche point, beholde his comely state, his fine selendernes, his vermilion colour, his heare yellow by nature, his graye and quicke eies like vnto the Egle, and his trimme and comely gate which doo sufficiently proue him to be y e naturall childe of Saluia: And more­ouer she saide: O Lucius I haue nourished thée with mine owne proper handes, and why not? For I am not onely of kinr [...]de vnto thy mother by bloude, but also by nourice, for we both descended of the ligne of Plutarche, lay in one belly, sucked the same pappes, & brought vp together in one house: And further there is [Page 13] no other difference betwene vs twoo, but that she is married more honorably then I: I am the same Byr­rhena whome you haue often harde named, emongest your freendes at home. Wherefore I pray you to take the paines as to come with me to my house, and vse it as your owne, at whose woordes I was partely aba­shed, and said: God forbid cosin that I shoulde forsake mine hoest Mylo without any iuste & reasonable cause, but verely I will (as often as I haue occasion to passe by your house) come and sée how you doo: And while we went talkinge thus together, by litle & litle, we came to her house, and beholde the gate of the same very beautiful set with pillors quadrāglewise, on the toppe whereof weare placed carued statues and images, but principallie the goddesse of Victorie was so liuely and with such excellencie portraide and set foorth, that you would verely haue thought that she had flied, and ho­ [...]ered with her winges hither and thither. On the con­trary parte, y image of y goddesse Diana was wrought in white marble, whiche was a meruelous sight to sée, for she séemed as though the winde did blowe vp her garmentes, and that she did encounter with them that came into the house: on eche side of her, were Dogges made of stone, that séemed to menace with their firie eies, their pricked eares, their bended nosethrilles, and their grinning téeth, in such sorte that you would haue thought they had bayed and barked: And moreouer (which was a greater meruell to beholde) the excellent caruer & deuiser of this worke had fashioned y dogges to stande vp fiersly with their former féete, and their hinder féete on the ground readie to fight. Behinde the backe of the Goddesse was carued a stone in manner of a cauerne, enuironed with mosse, hearbes, leaues, [Page] Sprigges, gréene braunches, and bowes, growingi [...] and aboute the same, in so muche that within the stone it glistened and shone meruelously, vnder the brimme of the stone hanged appels and grapes carued finely, wherein arte (enulynge nature) showed his great cun­ninge: For they were so liuelie set out, that you would haue thought (if Sommer had bene come) they might haue bene pulled and eaten, and while I behelde the runninge water, whiche séemed to springe and leape vnder the féete of the Goddesse, I marked the grapes whiche hanged in the water, whiche were like in eue­rie point to the grapes of the vine, and séemed to moue and stirre by violéce of the streame, moreouer emongst the braunches of the stone appeared the image of Ac­teon, And how that Diana (whiche was carued with­in the same stone standinge in the water because he did sée her naked) did tourne him into a harte, and so he was torne and slayne of his owne houndes. And while I was greatly delighted with the view of these thinges, Birrhena spake to me and saide: Cosin, all thinges here be at your commaundement. And there, withall she willed secretely the residewe to departe, who being gone she said: My most déere cosin Lucius I sweare by this goddesse Diana that I doo greatly ten­der your safetie, and am as carefull for you, as if you were mine owne natural childe, beware I say, beware of the euill artes & wicked allurementes of that Pam­philes that is the wife of Milo, whome you call your hoste, for she is accompted the moste chiefe and princi­pall Magicien and enchanteresse liuing, who by brea­thinge out certaine woordes and charmes ouer bowes, stones, and other friuolous things, can throwe down all the powers of the Heauens into the déepe bottome [Page 14] of Hell, and reduce all the whole worlde againe to the olde Chaos: For as soone as she espieth any comely yonge man, she is foorthwith stroken with his loue, and presently setteth her whole minde and affection on him: She soweth her séede of flatterie, Yonge men are prone to fall in­to the daunger of loue. she inuades his sprite, and entangleth him with continuall snares of vnmeasurable loue. And then, if any accorde not to her filthie desire, or if they séeme lothesome in her eye, by and by in the moment of an hower she either turneth them into stones, shéepe, or some other beaste as she her selfe pleaseth, and some she presentely s [...]eaeth and murdreth, of whome I woulde you should earnestly beware. For she burneth continually, and you, by reason of your tender age and comely beawtie are capable of her fire and loue: This with great care Birrhena gaue me in charge, but I (that alwaies co­ueted and desired, after that I harde talke of suche Sorcerye and Witchecrafte, to be experienced in the same) litle estéemed to beware of Pamphiles, but willingely determined to bestowe my money in lear­ninge of that arte, and nowe whollie to become a Witche: And so I wared ioyefull and wringinge my selfe out of her companie, as out of linkes or chaines, I badde her farewell, and departed towardes the house of mine hoste Milo, by the waye I reasoned thus with my selfe: O Lucius, nowe take héede, be vigilant, haue a good care, for nowe thou haste time and place to satiffie thy desire, nowe shake of thy shil­dishnesse and showe thy selfe a man, but specially temper thy selfe from the loue of thine Ostesse, and abstayne from violation of the bedde of Milo, but hardely attempte to winne the maiden Fotis for she is beautifull, wanton, and pleasant in talke. And son [...] [Page] when thou goest to sleape, Time, place, and occasion tēpteth a man muche. and when she bringeth thée gently into thy chamber, & tenderly layeth the downe in thy bedde, and louingly couereth thée, and kisseth thée sweetly, and departeth vnwillingly, and casteth her eies oftentimes backe and standes still, then haste thou a good occasion ministred vnto thée, to proue and trie the minde of Fotis. Thus while I reasoned with my selfe, I came to Milos doore perseueringe still in my purpose, but I founde nether Milo nor his wife at home.

¶How Apuleius fell in loue with Fotis.

Cap. 9.

WHen I was within the house I foūd my déere and swéete loue Fotis minsing of meate, and makinge potage for her Master and Mistris, the cupborde was all set with wines, and I thought I smelled the sauer of some deintie meates, she had about her middle a white and cleane apron, and she was gir­ded about her bodie vnder her pappes with a swathell of redde silke, and she stirred the potte and turned the meate with her fayre and white handes, in such sorte that with stirringe and turninge the same, her loines, and hippes did likewise moue and shake, whiche was in my minde a comely sight to sée. These thinges when I sawe, I was halfe amased, and stoode musinge with my selfe, and my courage came then vpon me, whiche before was skant. And I spake vnto Fotis merely, and said: O Futis, how trimly you can stirre the potte, and how finelie (with shakinge your buttockes) you can make potage. O happy and twise happy is he to whom you giue leaue & licence but to touche you there: Then she being likewise merely disposed gan answeare: De­part [Page 15] I say miser from me, departe from my fire, The like saying hath Terence. for if the [...]ame thereof doo neuer so litle blase foorth, it will burne thée e [...]tremely: and none can extinguishe the heate therof, but I alone who in stirring the potte, and makinge the bedde can so finely shake my selfe: when she had saied these woordes, she cast her eies vpon me and laughed, but I did not departe from thence vntill such time as I had viewed her in euery point: but what should I speake of others? when as I doo accustome a­broade to marke and viewe the face and heare of euery dame, and afterwardes delight my selfe therwith pri­uately at home, and thereby iudge the residew of their shape, because the face is the principall parte of all the bodie, and is firste open to our eies: And whatsoeuer flourishyng and gorgeous apparell doth worke and set foorth in the corporal partes of a woman, the same doth the naturall and comely beautie set out in the face. Moreouer there be diuers, that (to the intent to showe their grace and feature) will cast of their partlettes, collars, habillimentes, frontes, cornettes & krippins, and doo more delight to showe the fairenes of their skinne, then to decke them selues vp in golde and pre­tious stone. But because it is a crime vnto me to say, so and to giue no example thereof, know ye: that if you spoile and cut of the heare of any womā or depriue her of the colour of her face, though she weare neuer so ex­cellent in beautie, though she weare throwen downe from heauen, spronge of the seas, nourished of the floudes, though she weare Venus her selfe, though she weare accōpanied with the Graces, though she weare wayted vpon of all the courte of C [...]pide, though she weare grided with her beautifull skarfe of loue, and though she smelled of perfumes and muskes, yet if she [Page] appered balde: she coulde in no wise please, [...]o, not her owne Vulcanus. O how well doth a fayre colour, and a shininge face agrée with glitteringe heare? Beholde it encoūtereth with the beames of the sunne, and plea­seth the eie meruelously. Sometimes the beautie of the heare resembleth the colour of Golde and honie, some­times the blewe plume and asured feathers about the neckes of dooues, especially when it is either annoin [...] ­ted with the gumme of Arabia, or trimlie tufte out with the téeth of a fine combe, whiche if it be tied vp in the pole of the necke, it séemeth to the louer (that behol­deth the same) as a glasse that yeldeth foorth a more pleasant and gratious comelines then if it shoulde be sparsed abroade on the shoulders of the woman or hāge downe scatteringe behinde. Finally, there is suche a dignitie in the heare, that what so euer she be, though she neuer be so brauely attired with golde, silkes, pre­tious stones, and other riche & gorgeous ornamentes, yet if her heare be not curiously set foorth, she cannot séeme faire. But in my Fotis, her garmentes vnbraste and vnlaste, did encrease her beautie, her heare hanged aboute her shoulders, and was disparsed abroade vpon her partlette, and in euery parte of her necke, howbeit the greater parte was trussed vp in her pole with a lace: Then I vnable to sustaine the broylinge heate, whiche I was in, ranne vpon her and kissed the place, where she had thus layd her heare, whereat she turned her face, and cast her rollinge eies vpon me, saying: O schollar thou hast tasted now both hony and galle, take héede that thy pleasure doo not turne into repentance: tushe (ꝙ I) my swéete harte, I am contented for such an other kisse to be broyled here vpō this fier, wherwithal I embrased & kissed her more often, and she embrased [Page 16] and kissed me likewise, and moreouer her breath smel­led like sinnamome, and the licour of her tongue was like vnto swéete Nectar, wherewith when my minde was greatly delighted, I saide: beholde Fotis I am yours, & shall presently die, vnlesse you take pitie vpon me, which when I had said, she eftsoones kissed me and bidde me be of good courage, and I will (ꝙ she) satisfie your whole desire, and it shalbe no lenger delaied then vntill night, when as (assure your selfe) I will come and lie with you, wherefore goe your waies & prepare your selfe, for I entende valiantly, and couragiously to encounter with you this night: Thus when we had lo­uingly talked and reasoned together, we departed for that time.

¶How Birrhena sente victuales vnto Apuleius, and how he talked with Milo, of Diophanes, and how be laye With Folis.

Cap. 10.

WHen noone was come Birrhena sent vnto me a fatte pigge, fiue hennes, and a flagon of old wine. Then I called Fotis and saide, Such meate f [...] ­reth vp [...] excidingh. beholde how Bacchus the egger and stirrer of venerie doth of fer him selfe of his owne accorde, let vs therfore drinke vp this wine, that we may prepare our selues, and get vs courage against soone, for Uenus wanteth no other prouision then this, that the lampe may be al the night replemshed with oyle, & the cuppes filled with wine: The residewe of the day I passed away at the baines, and in banquettinge, and towardes eueninge I went to supper, for I was bidde by Milo, and so I sat downe at the table, out of Pāphiles sight as much as I could, beinge mindefull of the commaundement of Birrhena [Page] and sometimes I wonlde caste mine eies vpon her, as if I shoulde loke vpon the furies of Hell, but I (es [...] ­sones turninge my face behinde me, and beholding my Fotis ministringe at the table) was againe refreshed and made merie. And beholde when Pamphiles did see the candell standinge on the table, she saide, verely we shall haue muche raine to morrow, whiche when her husbande did here, he demaunded of her, by what reason she knew it: Marry ( [...] she) the light on the table doth showe the fame:then Milo laughed and saide, vs­rely we neurishe and bringe vp a Sibelle prophecier, whiche by the viewe of a candell doth diuine of Cele­stiall thinges, and of the Sunne it selfe: Then I mu­sed in my minde and saide vnto Milo: Of truth it is a good experience and proufe of diuination, neither is it any maruell, for although this light is but a small light and made by the handes of man, yet hath it a re­membrance of that great and heauenly light, as of his parent, and dothe showe vnto vs, what will happen in the skies aboue: For I knewe at Corinthe a cer­taine man of Assiria, who woulde giue answeares in euery parte of the Citie, and for the gaine of money woulde tell euery man his fortune, to some he would tell the daies of their marriages, to other he woulde tell when they should builde, that their edifices should continue: to other, when they should best goe about their assayres: to other when they should trauell by lande: to other when they should goe by seas: and to me (purposinge to take my iourney hither) he decla­red many thinges straunge and variable. For some­times he saide that I should winne glory [...]nough, som­times he saide, I shoulde write a great Historie, some­times againe he saide, that I should deuise an incredi­ble [Page 17] tale, and sometimes, that I should make B [...]okes. Whereat Milo laughed againe, and enquired of me of what stature this man of Assiria was, and what he was named: In faith (ꝙ I) he is a talle man, and some­what blacke and he is called Diophanes. Then sayde Milo the same is he and no other, who semblablie hath declared many thinges here vnto vs, whereby he gotte and obtained great substance and treasure. But the poore miser fell at length into the handes of vnpi­tifull and cruell fortune. For beinge on a day emongst a great assemblie of people, to tell the simple sorte their fortune, a certayne Cobler came vnto him, A pretie tale. and desired him to tell when it shoulde be best for him to take his voiage, the which he promised to doo: the Cob­ler opened his purse, and tolde a hundred pence to pay him for his paines, whereupon came a certaine yonge Gentleman, & toke Diophanes by the garment: Then he turninge him selfe embrased and kissed him, and de­ [...]ired the Gentelman (who was one of his acquain­tance) to sitte downe by him. And Diophanes beinge astonied with this sodaine chaunce forgatte what he was doyng, & said: O déere fréend you are hartely wel­come, I pray you when arriued you into these partes: then answeared he I will tell you soone, but brother I pray you to tell me of your comminge from the Isle of Euboea, and how you spedde by the way, whereunto Diophanes (this notable Assirian, not yet come vnto his minde but halfe amased) gaue answeare and saide, I would to God that all our enemies and euill willers mighte fall into the like daungerous peregrination and trouble, for the shippe where we were in, (after that it was by the waues of the seas, and by the great tempestes t [...]ssed hither and thither, in great perill, [Page] and after that the maste and sterne brake likewise in pieces) coulde in no wise be brought vnto the shore, but sonke into the water, and so we did swimme and hard­ly escape to lande: and after that, what so euer was geuen vnto vs, in recompence of our losses, either by the pitie of straungers or by the beneuolence of our fréendes, was taken away from vs by théeues, D [...]ophanes tolde the fortune of others, but his owne he coulde not tell. whose violence when my brother Arisuatus did assay to re­siste, he was cruelly murdered by them before my face. These thinges when he had sadly declared, the cobler toke vp his money againe, whiche he had tolde out to paye for the tellinge of his fortune and ranne away: Then Diophanes cōming to him selfe, perceaued what he had done, and we all that stoode by laughed greatly. But that, (ꝙ Milo) which Diophanes did tell vnto you Lucius, that you should be happy, and haue a prospe­rous iourney, was onely true: Thus Milo reasoned with me, but I was not a litle sorie in that I had trai­ned him in such a vaine of talke, that I lost a good parte of the night, and the sweete pleasure thereof, but at length I boldely saide vnto Milo. Let Diophanes fare­well with his euill fortune, & gette againe that whiche he lost by sea and lande, for I verely doo yet féele the werines of my trauell, wherefore I pray you perdon me, and giue me licēce to departe to hedde, wherwith­all I rose vp & went vnto my chamber, where I found al thinges finely prepared, and the childrens bedde (be­cause they should not here, what we did in the night) was remoued farre of without the chamber doore. The table was all couered with suche meates as was leste at supper, the cuppes were filled halfe full with water to temper & delay the wines, the flaggon stoode readdy prepared, and there did nothinge lacke which was ne­cessarie [Page 18] for the preparatiō of Venus: And when I was enteringe into the bedde, beholde my Fotis (who had brought her mistris to sléepe) came in & gaue me roses and flowers, whiche she had in her apron, and some she threwe about the bedde, and she kissed me swéetely, & tied a garlande aboute my head, and bespred the cham­ber with the residewe. Whiche when she had done, she toke vp a cuppe of wine, and delaide it with whote wa­ter, and proffred it me to drinke, & before I had drunke vp all, she pulled it from my mouth, and then gaue it me againe, and in this manner we emptied the potte twise or thrise together. Thus when I had well reple­nished my selfe with wine, and was now readie vnto Venerie not onely in minde but also in bodie, I remo­ued my clothes, and (showinge to Fotis my great im­paciencie) I said, O my swéete harte take pitie vpon me and helpe me: for as you sée, I am now prepared vnto the battaile whiche you your selfe did appointe, for af­ter that I felte the first arrow of cruell Cupide within my brest, I bent my howe very stronge, and now feare (because it is bended so harde) least the stringe should breake, but that thou maist the better please me, vn­dresse thy heare and come and embrase me louingly, wherewithall (she made no longe delaye) but set aside all the meate and wine, and then she vnapparelled her selfe, and vnatired her heare, presentinge her amiable bodie vnto me, in manner of fayre Venus, when she goeth vnder the waues of the sea. Now (ꝙ she) is come the howre of iustinge, now is come the time of warre, wherefore showe thy selfe like vnto a man, for I will not retire, I will not flie the fielde, sée then thou be va­liant, sée thou be couragious since, there is no time ap­pointed when our skirmishe shal cease: In saying these [Page] woordes she came to me to bedde, and embrased me swéetely, and so we passed all the night in pastime and pleasure, and neuer slept till it was day: but we would eftsoones refreshe our werines, and prouoke our plea­sure, and renewe our Venerie by drinkinge of wine. In whiche sorte we pleasauntly passed away many other nightes followinge.

¶How Apuleius supped with Birrhena, and what a straunge tale Bellephoron tolde at the table.

Cap. 11.

IT fortuned on a daie that Birrhena desired me ear­nestly to suppe with her, and she woulde in no wise take any excusation. Whereupon I went vnto Fo­tis to aske counsell of her as of some diuine, who (al­though she was vnwilling y I should departe one foote from her companie) yet at length she gaue me licence to be absent for a while, saying: beware that you [...]acry not longe at supper there, for there is a rabblement of commō barrators and disturbers of the publique peace that roueth about in the streates, and murdreth al such as they may take, neither can lawe nor iustice redresse them in any case. And they will the sooner sette vpon you, by reason of your comelines and audacitie, in that you are not affeard at any time to walke in y e stréetes. Then I answeared and saide, haue no care of me Fo­tis, for I estéeme the pleasure whiche I haue with thée, aboue the deintie meates that I eate abroade, & there­fore I will returne againe quickely. Neuerthelesse I minde not to come without companie, for I haue here my swoorde, whereby I hope to defende my selfe. And so in this sorte I went to supper, and beholde I founde at Birrhenas house a great companie of straungers, [Page 19] and of the chiefe and principall of the Citie, the beddes (made of Citorne and Yuorie) were richly adornde and spredde with clothe of Golde, the cuppes were garni­shed pretiously, and there was diuers other thinges of sondrie fashion, but of like estimation and price: here stoode a glasse gorgeously wrought, there stoode an o­ther of Cristall finely painted, there stoode a cuppe of glitteringe Siluer, and here stoode a nother of shinyng Golde, and here was an other of Ambre artificially carued, and made with pretious stones: Finally there was all thinges that might be desired, the Seruiters waited orderly at the table in riche apparell, the pages arrayed in silke robes did fill great gemmes, & pearles made in forme of cuppes with excellent wine, then one brought in candelles and torches: and when we weare sette downe and placed in order, we began to talke, to laugh and be merie. And Birrhena spake vnto me, and saide: I pray you Cosin how like you our countrey? Verely I thinke there is no other Citie which hath the like Temples, Baynes, and other commodities as we haue here: Further we haue aboundance of household-stuffe, we haue pleasure, we haue ease, and when the Romaine marchantes doo arriue in this Citie, they are gentely and quietly entertained, and all that dwell within this prouince (when they purpose to solace and repose them selues) doo come to this Citie. Whereunto I answeared: Verely (ꝙ I) you tell truthe, for I can finde no place in all the worlde, whiche I like better then this, but I greatly feare, the blinde and incuita­ble trenches of Witchcrafte, for they say that the dead bodies ar digged out of their graues, & the bones of thē that are burned be stolen away, & the toes & fingers of such as are slaine, be cut of to afflicte and torment such [Page] as li [...]e: And the olde Witches assone as they heare of the death of any person, doo foorthwith goe & vncouer the hearse, & spoile the corpse, to worke their enchaunt­mentes: Then an other sittinge at the table spake and saide, in faith you say true, neither yet doo they spare or fauour the liuinge. For I know one not farre hense that was cruelly handled by them, who (being not con­tented with cuttinge of his nose) did likewise cut of his eares, whereat all the companie laughed hartely, and looked vpon one that satte at y e boordes ende, who being amased at their ga [...]inge, and somewhat angry withal, would haue rysen from the table, had not Birrhena spake vnto him & saide: I pray the fréende Telepheron sitte still, and accordinge to thy accustomed curtesie, declare vnto vs the losse of thy nose and eares, to the ende that my cosin Lucius may be delighted with the pleasauntnes of the tale: To whome he answeared, a dame you in the office of your bountie shall preuaile herein, but the insolencie of some is not to be suppor­ted. This he spake very angerly, but Birrhena was earnest vpon him & assured him that he should haue no wronge at no mans hande, whereby he was enforced to declare the same: And so (lappinge vp the ende of the table cloth and carpette together) he leaned with his elbow thereon, and helde out the thrée forefingers of his right hande in manner of an Oratour, and saide: When I was a yonge man I wente vnto a certayne Citie called Milet, A pl [...]asant tale. to sée the games and triūphes there called Olympia, and beinge desirous to come into this famous prouince, after that I had traueled ouer all Thessalie, I fortuned in an euell houre to come to the Citie Larissa, where (while I went vp and downe to [...]ewe the stréetes, to séeke some reliefe for my poore [Page 20] estate, (for I had spent al my money) I espied a talle old man standing vpon a stone, in the middest of the mar­kette place, cryinge with a loude voice, and sayinge: that if any mā would watche a dead corpse that night, he should be resonably rewarded for his paines: which when I harde, I said to one that passed by: what is here to doo, doo dead men vse to runne away in this coun­trie. Then answeared he: holde your peace for you are but a babe and a straunger here, and not without cause you are ignorant how you are in Thessalie, where the women Witches doo bite of by morselles the fl [...]she of the faces of dead men, and thereby woorke their Sorce­ries and enchauntmentes. Then (ꝙ I) in good fellow­shippe tell me the order of this custodie and how it is: Marry (ꝙ he) first you must watche all the night, with your eies bent continuallie vpon the corpse, neuer loo­kinge of nor mouinge aside: For these Witches doo turne them selues into sundry kinde of beastes, wher­by they deceaue the eies of all men, sometimes they are transformed into birdes, sometimes into dogges, and myce, & somtimes into flies, moreouer they wil charme the keapers of the corpse a sleape, neither cā it be decla­red what meanes and shiftes these wicked women doo vse to bring their purpose to passe: and the rewarde for such daungerous watchinge is no more then fower or fire shillinges: but herken further, which I had welny forgotten, if the keper of the dead bodie doo not render (on the morninge following) the corps whole & sounde as he receaued y same, he shalbe punished in this sorte. That is: if the corpse be diminished or spoyled in any parte of his face handes or toes, the same shalbe dimi­nished and spoyled in the keper. Whiche when I harde I toke a good harte and went vnto the crier, and bidde [Page] him ceasse, for I would take the matter in hande, and so I demaunded what I should haue: Marry (ꝙ he) a thousand pence, but beware I say yonge man that you doo well defende the dead corps from the wicked Wit­ches, for he was the sonne of one of the chiefest of the Citie: Tu [...]he (said I) you speake you can not tell what, beholde I am a man made all of yron, and haue neuer desire to sleape, and am more quicke of sight then Lynx or Argus. I had skarse spoken these woordes, when he toke me by the hande, and brought me to a certaine house, the gate whereof was closed faste, so that I went thorough the wicket, then he brought me into a chamber somewhat darke, and showed me a matron clothed in mourninge vesture and wepinge in lamen­table wise: And he spake vnto her and saide: Beholde, here is one that will enterprise to watche the corpse of your husbande this night, whiche when she harde, she turned her bloubered face couered with her heare vnto me, saiyng: I pray you yonge mā take good héede, and sée well to your office: haue no care (ꝙ I) so that you will giue me any thinge aboue that which is dewe to be giuen, wherewith she was contented: And then she rose and brought me into a chamber whereas the corpse lay couered with white shéetes, and she called seuen witnesses, before whome she showed the dead bodie, and euery parte and parcell thereof, and (with wéepinge eies) desired them all to testifie the matter, whiche done she saide these woordes of course as fol­lowe: Beholde his nose is whole, his eies salue, his eares without scarre, his lippes vntoucht, & his chinne sounde: All whiche was written and noted in tables, & subscribed with the hādes of the witnesses to confirme the same: which done, I said vnto the matron: Madame [Page 21] I pray you that I may haue all thinges here necessa­rie: what is that? (ꝙ she) marry saide I a great lampe replenished with oyle, pottes of wine, and water to delaye the same, and some other drinke and deintie dishe that was lefte at supper, then she shaked her head, and saide: Away foole as thou arte, thinkest thou to playe the glutton here, and to looke for deintie meates, where so longe time hath not bene séene any smoke at all? comest thou hither to eate, where we should wéepe and lament? and there withall she turned backe and commaunded her mayden Mirrhena to de­liuer me a lampe with oyle, which when she had done, they closed the chamber doore and departed. Nowe when I was alone I rubbed mine eies, and armed my selfe to kéepe the corpse, and to the intent I would not sleape, I beganne to singe, and so I passed the time till it was midnight, when as beholde there crepte in a Weasell into the chamber, and she came against me & put me in very great feare, in so muche that I marue­led greatly of the audacitie of so little a beaste. To whome I saide, gette thée hence thou whore, and hie thée to thy fellowes, least thou féele my fingers? why wilt not thou goe? Then incontinently she ranne a­way, and when she was gonne, I fell on the grounde so faste a sléepe, that Apollo him selfe could not discerne whether of vs twoo was the dead corpse, for I lay pro­strate, as one without lyfe, and néeded a keper like­wise. At length the cockes beganne to crowe declaring that it was daye, wherewithall I waked and (beynge greatly affeard) ran vnto the dead bodie with the lāpe in my hande, and I viewed him roūde about: And im­mediatly came in the Matron wéepinge with her wit­nesses, & ranne vnto the corpse & eftsones kissinge him, [Page] turned his body and found no parte diminished: Then she commaunded one Philodespotus her stewarde to pay me my wages foorthwith, which whē he had done, he saide: we thanke you gentle yonge man for your paines, and verely for your diligence herein, we will accompte you as one of the familie. Whereunto I (be­inge ioyeous of my vnhoped gaine, and ratlinge my money in my hande) did answeare: I pray you ma­dame estéeme me as one of your seruitours, and if you néede my seruice at any time I am at your commaūde­ment. I had not fully declared these woordes, when as beholde all the seruauntes of the house were assembled with weapōs to driue me away, one buffeted me about the face, an other about the shoulders, some stroke me in the sides, some kicked me, and some tare my gar­mentes, and so I was handled emongest them and dri­uen from the house (as the proude yonge man Adonis who was torne by a Bore). And when I was come in­to the next streate, I mused with my selfe and remem­bred mine vnwise and vnaduised woordes which I had spoken, whereby I cōsidered that I had deserued much more punishmēt, and that I was woorthely beaten for my follie: And by and by the corpse came foorth, whiche (because it was the bodie of one of the chiefe of the Ci­tie) was carried in funerall pompe rounde aboute the markette place, accordinge to the rite of the countrie there. And foorthwith stepped out an olde man weping and lamentinge and ranne vnto the biere and embra­sed it, and with déepe sighes & sobbes cried out in this sorte: O maisters I pray you by the faith whiche you professe, and by the dutie whiche you owe vnto the weale publique, take pitie and mercie vpon this dead corps, who is miserablie murdred, and doo vengeaunce [Page 22] on this wicked and cursed woman his wife, whiche hath committed this facte. For it is she and no other, that hath poysoned her husbande, my sisters sonne, to the intent to maintaine her whoredome and to get his heritage. In this sorte the olde man complained before the face of all the people. Then they (astonied at these sayinges and because the thing séemed to be true) cried out, burne her, burne her, and thei sought for stones to throwe at her, and willed the boies in the streate to doo the same: but she (wepinge in lamentable wise) did sweare by all the goddes that she was not culpable of this crime. No (ꝙ the olde man)? Beholde here is one sente by the prouidence of God to trie out the matter, euen Zachlas an Egiptian, who is the most principall Prophecier in all this countrie, and who was hired of me for money to reduce the soule of this mā from Hell, and to reuiue his bodie for the triall hereof. And there­withal he brought foorth a certaine yonge man clothed in linnen rayment, hauing on his féete a payre of pan­toffles, and his crowne shauen, who kissed his handes and knées, saying: O Priest haue mercie, haue mercie, I pray thée by y celestiall Planetes, by the powers in­fernall, by the vertue of the naturall Elementes, by the silences of the night, by the buildinges of swal­lowes nigh vnto the towne of Copton, by the increase of the floode Nilus, by the secreate misteries of Mem­phis, and by the instrumentes and trumpettes of the Isle Pharos, haue mercie I say, and call againe to life this dead bodie, and make that his eyes whiche be clo­sed and shutte, may be opened & sée, howbeit we meane not to striue against the lawe of death, neither entend we to depriue the yearth of his right, but (to the ende this facte may he knowen) we craue but a small time [Page] and space of life, whereat this Prophete was moued, and toke a certaine hearbe, & laide it thrée times vpon the mouth of the dead, and he toke an other, and laide it vpon his brest in like sorte: Thus when he had done, he turned him selfe int [...] the East, and made certaine Oraisons vnto the Sunne, which caused all the people to maruell greatly, & to loke for this straunge miracle that should happen: Then I pressed in emongest them nigh vnto the biere, and gotte vpon a stone to sée this misterie, and beholde incontinently the dead bodie be­gan to receaue spirite, his principall vaines did moue, his life came againe and he helde vp his head, & spake in this sorte. Why doo you call me backe againe to this transitorie life, that haue already tasted of the water of Leche, and likewise bene in the deadlie denne of Stir? leaue of I pray, leaue of, and lette me lie in quiet teste: when these woordes were vttered by the dead corpse, the Prophete drewe nighe vnto the biere, and saide: I charge thée to tell (before the face of all the peo­ple here) y occasion of thy death, what doest thou thinke that I cannot by my comurations cal vp the dead? and by my puissance tormēt thy bodie? Then che corps mo­ued vp his head againe, and made reuerence vnto the people, & said: Verely I was poisoned by the meanes of my wicked wife, & so thereby yelded my bedde vnto an adulterer. Whereat his wife taking present audacitie, & reprouing his sayings with a cursed minde, did denie it: the people were bēt against her sondry waies, some thought best y she should be buried aliue w t her husbād, but some said y there ought no credite to be giuen vnto the dead bodie, which opinion was cleane taken away by the woordes that the corpse spake againe, & said: Be­holde I will giue you some euident token, which neuer [Page 23] yet any other man knew, wherby you shall perceaue y I declare the truth, & by and by he pointed towardes me that stoode on the stone, & saide: when this, the good gardian of my bodie watched me diligently in y e night, & that the wicked Witches & enchanteresses came into the chamber to spoile me of my limmes, & to bryng such their purpose to passe, did trāsforme them selues into y e shape of beastes: And when as thei could in no wise de­ceaue or beguile his vigilant eies, they cast him into so dead & sounde a sleape that by their Wicthcrafte he sée­med without spirite or life. After this thei called me by my name, & did neuer cease till as the colde members of my bodie began by litle & litle to reuiue: then he (being of more liuely soule, howbeit buried in sleape, in y he & I weare named by one name, and because he knew not that they called me) rose vp first, & as one without sence or persenerāce passed by the doore fast closed vnto a cer­taine hole, whereas the Witches cut of first his nose, & then his eares, & so that was done to him, whiche was appointed to be done to me. And that such their subtil­tie might not be perceaued, they made him a like payre of eares and nose of waxe, wherefore you may sée that the poore miser for lucre of a litle money, sustayned losse of his membres. Whiche when he had saide, I was greatly astonied, and (mindinge to proue whether his woordes were true or no) put my hande to my nose, & my nose fell of, and put my hande to mine eares, and mine eares fel of. Whereat al y people wondred great­ly, and laughed me to skorne? but I (beinge stroken in a colde sweate) crept betwéene their legges for shame, & escaped away. So I disfigured returned home again, & couered the losse of mine eares, with my longe heare, and glewed this cloute to my face to hide my shame. [Page] Assone as Telephoron had tolde his tale, they whiche satte at the table, (replenished with wine) laughed har­telie. And while they drāke one to an other, Birrhena spake to me, and saide: From the first foūdation of this Citie, we haue had a custome to celebrate the festiuall day of the God Kisus, & to morrow is the feast, when as I pray you to be present to sette out the same more honorably, and I would with all my harte that you could finde or deuise somwhat of your selfe, that might be in honor of so great a God: to whome I answeared: Verely Cosin I will doo as you commaunde me, & right gladde would I be if I might inuent any laughinge or mery matter to please or satisfie Kisus withall: Kisus the God if sporte. Then I rose from the table, and toke leaue of Birchena and departed, and when I came into the firste streate my torche went out, that with great paine I coulde skarse gette home, by reason it was so darke, and for feare of stomblinge. And when I was welny come vnto the doore, beholde I saw thrée men of great stature heuinge and liftinge at Milos gates to gette in. And when they sawe me, they weare nothing affeard, but assaide with more force to breake downe the doores, whereby they gaue me occasion and not without cause to thinke that thei weare stronge théeues. Wherupon I, by and by, drew out my swoorde which I carried for that pur­pose vnder my cloke, and ranne in emongst them, and wounded them in such sorte that they fell downe dead before my face. Thus when I had slaine them all, I knocked, sweating and breathyng at the doore, till Fo­tis lette me in. And then full weary with the slaugh­ter of these théeues, like Hercules when he fought a­gainst the King Gerion, I wente to my chamber and laide me downe to [...]leape.

The thirde Booke of Lucius Apuleius of the Golden Asse.

¶How Apuleius was taken and put in prison for Murder.

Cap. 12.

WHen morninge was come, and that I was awaked from sléepe, my harte burned sore, with remembraunce of the murder which I had committed the night before: and I rose and sat downe on the side of the bedde, with my legges a crosse, and wringinge my handes, wepinge in miserable sorte. For I imagi­ned with my self, that I was brought before the iudge in the iudgement place, and that he awarded sentence against me, & that the hangeman was readdie to leade me to the gallowes. And further I imagined, and said: Alas what iudge is he that is so gentle or benigne that will thinke that I am vugiltie of the slaughter & mur­der of these thrée men? How be it, the Assirian Diopha­nes did firmely assure vnto me, that my peregrination and voiage hither should be prosperous. But while I did thus vnfolde my sorrowes, and greatly bewayle my fortune, beholde, I harde a great noyes and crie at the doore, and in came the Magistrates and Officers, who cōmaunded twoo sergeantes to binde me, & leade me to pryson, whereunto I was willingly obedient, and as they ledde me thorough the streate, all the Ci­tie gathered together and followed me, and although I looked alwaies on the grounde for very shame, yet sometimes I cast my head aside, and merueled greatly [Page] that amongst so many thousand people there was not one but laughed excéedingly. Finally, when they had brought me thorough all the stréetes of the citie, in mā ­ner of those as goe in procession, & doo sacrafice to miti­gate the Ire of the Gods, they placed me in the iudge­mēt hall, before the seate of the iudges: & after that the crier cōmaunded all men to kéepe silence, the people de­sired the iudges to giue sentence in the great Theatre by reason of y great multitude that was there, wherby thei weare in daunger of stifling. And beholde y prease of people encreased stil, some climed to the toppe of the house, some gotte vpon the beames, some vpō the ima­ges, and some thrust in their heades through the win­dowes, litle regardyng the daunger they were in, so they might see me. Then the officers brought me forth opēly into the midle of the hall y euery man might be­holde me. And after that the crier had made an oies & willed all suche as would bringe any euidence against me shoulde come forth, there stepped out an olde man, with a glasse of water in his hande, droppyng out soft­ly, who desired that he might haue libertie to speake duringe the time of the continuance of the water, which when it was graunted he beganne his Oration in this sorte.

¶How Apuleius was accused by an olde man, and how he answeared for him selfe.

Cap. 13.

O Most reuerēde and iust iudges, the thinge which I purpose to declare vnto you, is no smal matter but toucheth the estate and tranquillitie of this whole Citie, and the punishment therof may be a right good example to others. Wherefore I pray you moste venerable fathers to whome, and to euery of whome it [Page 25] doth appertaine to prouide for the dignitie & safetie of the common weale, that you would in no wise suffer this wicked homicide, embrewed with the bloud of so many murdred Citizens to scape vnpunished. And thinke you not y I am moued hereunto by enuie or ha­tred, but by reason of mine office in y I am capitaine of the night watche, and because no man aliue should ac­cuse me to be remisse in the same I will declare all the whole matter, orderly, as it was done this last night.

This night past when as at our accustomed howre I The inuectiue [...] a­gainst Apuleius. diligently searched euery parte of the Citie: Behold, I fortuned to espie this cruell yonge man, drawinge out his swoorde against thrée Citizens, & after a longe com­bate foughten betwene them, he murdred one after an other miserably, which whē he had done (moued in his conscience at so great a crime) he ranne away, & ayded by reason of darkenes, slipt into a house & there lay hid­den all night, but by the prouidence of the Gods, which suffereth no heynous offences to remaine vnpunished, he was takē by vs this morninge before he escaped any further, & so brought hither to your honorable presence to receaue his desert accordingly. So haue you here a giltie person, a culpable homicide, & an accused straun­ger, wherefore pronounce ye iudgement against this man being an alien, when as you would most seuerely & sharpely reuenge such an offence found in a knowen Citizen. In this sort y cruel accuser finished & ended his terrible tale: then the crier commaunded me to speake, if I had any thinge to say for my selfe, but I could in no wise vtter any woorde at all for wéepinge. And on the other side I estéemed not so much his rigorous ac­cusation, as I did consider mine owne miserable con­science. Howbeit (beinge inspired by diuine audacitie) [Page] at length I ganne say: The answeare of Apuleius. Verely I know that it is a hard thinge for him, that is accused to haue slayne thrée per­sons, to persuade you that he is not innocent although he should declare the whole truth, & confesse the matter how it was in déede, but if your Honours will vouch­salue to giue me audience, I will show you that if I be cōdemned to die, I haue not deserued it by mine owne deserte, but that I was moued by fortune, and reaso­nable cause to doo that facte. For returninge somewhat late from supper yesternight (beinge well tippled with wine, whiche I will not denie) and approchinge nighe vnto my common lodginge, which was in the house of one Milo a Citizen of this Citie, I fortuned to espie thrée great Théeues attemptinge to breake downe his walles & gates, and to open the lockes to enter in. And whē they had remoued the doores out of the hookes, thei consulted emongst them selues, how they would hādle such as they founde in the house: And one of them be­yng of more courage, & of greater stature then the rest, spake vnto his fellowes, and saide: Tushe you are but boyes, take mens hartes vnto you, and let vs enter in­to euery parte of the house, & suche as we finde a sléepe let vs slea, and such likewise as resist let vs kill, and so by that meanes we shall escape without daunger. Ve­rely, ye iudges, I confesse that I drew out my swoorde against those thrée citizens, but I thought that it was the office & duetie of one that heareth good will to this weale publique so to doo, specially since they put me in great feare, and assayed to robbe and spoile mine hoste Milo. But when those cruell and terrible men woulde in no case rūne away, nor feare my naked swoorde, but boldly resist against me, I ranne vpō them and fought valiantly. One of them which was the Capitaine in­uaded [Page 26] me strongly, and drewe me by the heare, with both his handes, and beganne to beate me with a great stone, but in the ende I proued the hardier man, and threwe him downe at my féete and killed him. I toke likewise the seconde that clasped about my legges and bitte me, and slewe him also. And the thirde that came running violently against me, after that I had strokē him vnder the stomake fell downe dead. Thus when I had deliuered my selfe, the house, mine hoste, & all his familie from this present daunger, I thought that I should not onely escape vnpunished, but also haue some great rewarde of the Citie for my paines. Moreouer I, that haue alwaies béene cléere and vnspotted of crime, and that haue estéemed mine innocencie aboue all the treasure of the worlde, can finde no reasonable cause why vpon mine accusation I should be condemned to die: since, First I was moued to set vpō the théeues by iust occasion: Secondly, because there is none that can affirme, that there hath bene at any time either grudge or hatred betwene vs: Thirdly, we were men mere straungers and of no acquaintance: Last of all, no man can proue that I committed that facte for any lucre or gaine. When I had ended my woordes in this sort. Be­holde, I wéeped againe pitiously, and holdinge vp my handes, I prayed all the people by the mercie of the cō ­mon weale, and for the loue of my poore infantes and children, to showe me some pitie and fauour. And whē I sawe their hartes somewhat relented and moued by my lamentable teares, I called all the Goddes to wit­nesse that I was vngiltie of the crime, and so to their diuine prouidence I committed my present estate, but turninge my selfe againe, I perceaued that all the peo­ple laughed encéedingly, and especially my good fréende [Page] and hoste Milo. Then thought I with my selfe: Alas where is faith? where is remorse of cōscience? Beholde I am condemned to die as a murderer, for the salue­garde of mine hoste Milo and his familie. Yet is he not contented with y , but likewise laugheth me to skorne, where otherwise he should comfort and helpe me.

¶How Apuleius was accused by twoo women, and how the slaine bodies were founde blowen bladders.

Cap. 14.

WHen this was done, out came a woman we­pinge into the middle of the Theatre arrayed in mourninge vesture, and bearinge a childe in her armes. And after her came an olde woman in ragged robes cryinge and howlinge likewise: And thei brought with thē the Oliue bowes wherwith the thrée slaine bodies were couered on the biere, and cried out in this māner: O right Iudges we pray you by the iu­stice & humanitie whiche is in you, to haue mercie vpon these slaine persons, and succour our widowhed and losse of our déere husbandes, and especially this poore infant, who is now an orphan and depriued of all good fortune: And execute your iustice by order & lawe vpon the bloud of this théefe who is the occasion of all our so­rowes. When they had spokē these woordes, one of the most auncient iudges did rise, and say: Touchinge this murder which deserueth great punishment, this male­factor him selfe cānot denie, but our dutie is to enquire & trie out, whether he had no coadiutors to helps him. For it is not likely, that one man alone could kill thrée such great & valiant persons, wherefore the truth must be tried out by y racke, & so we shall learne, what other compaignions he hath, and coote out the nest of these mischeuous murderers. And there was no long delay, [Page 27] for accordinge vnto the custome of Grecia, the fire, the whele, & many other tormentes were brought in: Thē my sorow encreased or rather doubled, in y I could not ende my life with whole & vnperished mēbers. And by & by the olde woman, who troubled all the courte with her howling desired the iudges that (before I should be tormented on the racke) I might vncouer the bodies which I had slaine, y euery man might sée their comely shape & youthfull beautie, & that I might receaue con­digne & woorthy punishment, according to y qualitie of the offence, and therewithall she made a signe of ioye. Then y iudge cōmaūded me foorthwith to discouer the bodies of the slaine, liynge vpon the biere, with mine owne handes, but whē I refused a good space, by reason I would not make my facte apparant to the eies of all men, the sergeantes charged me by cōmaundement of the iudges, and thrust me forwarde to doo the same: I then (beyng enforced by necessitie) though it weare against my will, vncouered their bodies: but O good Lord, what a straunge sight did I sée? what a monster? what sodeine chaunge of all my sorrowes? I séemed as though I weare one of the house of Proserpina, & of the familie of death, in so much y I could not sufficiently expresse y forme of this new sight, so far was I amased & astonied thereat: For why, the bodies of y thrée slaine men were no bodies, but thrée blowen bladders man­gled in diuers places, and they séemed to be wounded in those partes, where I remember I wounded the théeues the night before: Whereat the people laughed excéedingely. Some reioysed meruelously with the re­membraunce thereof, some helde their stomakes that aked with ioye, but euery mā delighted at this passyng sporte, and so departed out of the Theatre. But I from [Page] the time that I vncouered the bodies stoode still as cold as ise, no otherwise then as the other statues & images there, neither came I vnto my right senses vntill such time as Milo mine hoste came and toke me by the [...]hād, and with ciuill violence ledde me away wepinge and sobbinge where I would or no: & because that I might not be séene, he brought me through many blind waies and lanes to his house, where he wente about to com­fort me beinge sadde and yet fearefull, with gentle en­treatie of talke: but he coulde in no wise mitigate my impaciencie of the iniurie whiche I conceiued within my minde. And behold, by and by the Magistrates and Iudges with their ensignes entred into the house and endeuored to pacifie me in this sorte, saying: O Lucius we are aduertised of your dignitie, and know the Ge­nelogie of your auncient lignage, for the nobilitie of your kinne doo possesse the greatest parte of al this pro­vince. And thinke not that you haue suffred the thinge wherefore you wéepe, to any your reproche or igno­minie, but put away all care and sorrowe out of your minde: For this day whiche we celebrate once a yéere in honour of the God Risus, is alwaies renoumpned with some solempne Nouell, and the god doth cōtinu­ally accōpanie with the inuentor thereof, and will not suffer that he should be sorowfull, but pleasantly beare a ioyfull face. And verely al the Citie for the grace that is in you, entende to rewarde you with great honours & to make you a patron. And further that your statue or image shalbe set vp for a perpetuall remembraunce. To whome I answeared: As for suche benefites as I haue receaued alreadie of this famous Citie of Thessa­lie, I yéelde and render moste entier thankes, but as [...]ouchinge the settinge vp of any statues or images, I [Page 28] would wishe that they should be reserued for mine aū ­cientes and such as are more woorthy then I. When I had spoken these woordes somewhat grauely, & showed my self nore merry then I was before, the Iudges and Magistrates departed, and I reuerently toke my leaue of them and bidde them farewell. And beholde, by and by there came one runnyng to me in hast, and said: Sir, your cosin Birrhena desireth you to take the paines, ac­cordinge to your promise yesternight, to come to sup­per, for it is ready. But I greatly fearing to goe any more to her house in the night, said vnto y messenger: My fréende I pray you to tell my cosin your Misteris that I would willingly be at her commaūdement, but for breakinge my troth & credite. For mine hoste Milo enforced me to assure him, and cōpelled me by the feaw of this present day, that I should not departe from his companie, wherefore I pray you to excuse me and to differ my promise to an other time. And while I was speakinge these woordes, Milo toke me by the hande & ledde me towardes the next baine, but by the way, I went couchinge vnder him to hide my selfe from the sight of men, because I had ministred such an occasion of laughter: And when I had washed & wiped my selfe and returned home againe, I neuer remembred any such thing, so greatly was I ashamed at the noddinge and pointyng of euery person. Then I went to supper with Milo, where God wotte we fared but poorely. Wherefore (feigninge that my head did ake by reason of my sobbinge & weping all the daie) I desired licence to departe to my chamber and so I went to bedde.

¶How Fotis tolde to Apuleius, what Witchcratie her Mistris did vse:

Cap. 15.

WHen I was a bedde I beganne to cal to minde al the sorrowes and griefes that I was in the day before vntill such time as my loue Fotis (hauinge brought her Mistris to sléepe) came into the chamber not as she was wonte doo, for she séemed no­thinge pleasant neither in countenance nor talke, but with a sower face & frowning looke, gan speake in this sorte. Verely, I confesse that I haue bene the occasion of all thy trouble this day, and therewithall she pulled out a whippe from vnder her apron, and deliuered it to me saying, reuenge thy selfe of me mischieuous har­lotte or rather slea me. And thinke you not that I did willingly procure this anguishe and sorrow vnto you I call the Goddes to witnesse. For I had rather suffer mine owne bodie to be punished, then that you should receaue or sustaine any harme by my meanes, but that whiche I did was by the commaundement of an other, and wrought (as I thought) for some other, but be­holde the vnlucky chaunce fortuned on you by mine euil occasion. Then I very curious & desirous to know the matter, answeared: in faith (ꝙ I) this moste pesti­lent & euill fauoured whippe (whiche thou hast brought to scourge thée withall) shall firste be broken in a thou­sande pieces, then that it should touch or hurte thy de­licate and deintie skinne, but I pray you tell me, how haue you bene the cause and meane of my trouble and sorrowe. For I dare sweare by the loue that I beare vnto you, & I will not be perswaded (though you your selfe shoulde endeuour the same) that euer you wente about to trouble or harme me: Perhappes sometimes [Page 29] you imagined an euill thought in your minde, whiche afterwardes you reuoked but that is not to be déemed as a crime. When I had spoken these woordes, I per­ceaued by Fotis eies beinge wette with teares, and welnie closed vp, that she had a desire vnto pleasure, and specially because she embraced & kissed me swéete­ly. And when she was somwhat restored vnto ioye she desired me that she might first shutte the chāber doore, least by the vntemperance of her tongue in vtteringe any vnsittinge woordes there might growe further in­conuenience. Wherewithall she barred and propped the doore and came to me againe, and embrasing me lo­uingly about the necke with both her armes, spake w t a softe voice and saide, I doo greatly feare to discouer the priuities of this house, and to vtter the secrete mi­steries of my Dame: But I haue suche a confidence in you and in your wisedome, by reason that you ar come of so noble a ligne and endewed with so profounde sa­pience, and further enstructed in so many holy & diuine thinges, that you will faithfully kéepe silence, and that what so euer I shall reueale or declare vnto you, you woulde close them within the bottome of your hart, and neuer discouer the same: for I ensure you the loue that I beare vnto you enforceth me to vtter it. Now shall you knowe all the estate of our house, nowe shall you knowe the hidden secreates of my Mistris, vnto whome the powers of Hell doo obaye, and by whome the celestiall Planettes are troubled, the Goddes made weake, and the Elements subdued, nei­ther is the violence of her arte in more strength and force, then when she espieth some comely yonge man that pleaseth her fancie as oftētimes it happeneth. For nowe she loueth one Beotian a fayre and beautifull [Page] person, on whome she employeth all her sorcery & en­chauntment, & I harde her say with mine owne eares yesternight, that (if the Sunne had not then presently gone downe, & the Hight come to minister conuenient time to woorke her Magicall enticementes) she would haue brought perpetuall darknes ouer all the worlde her self. And you shall know that when she saw yester­night this Beotian sittinge at the barbours a polinge, when she came from the baines, she secretely cōmaun­ded me to gather some of the heare of his head, whiche lay dispersed vpon the grounde, and to bringe it honie: whiche when I thought to haue done, the Barbour espied me, and by reason it was bruted thorough out all the Citie that we weare Witches and enchantres­ses, he cried out, and said: Will you neuer leaue of stea­linge of yonge mens heares? In faith I assure you vn­lesse you cease your wicked sorceries, I will complaine to y Iustices: wherwithall he came angerly towardes me, & toke away the heare whiche I had gathered, out of mine apron, whiche grieued me very muche. For I knew my mistris manners, that she would not be con­tented, but beate me cruelly. Wherfore I entended to runne away, but the remembrance of you put alwaies that thought out of my minde, & so I came homewarde very sorowfull, but because I would not séeme to come in my mistris sight with emptie handes, I sawe a man shearynge of blowen goate skinnes, and the heare that he had shorne of was yellow, and much resembled the heare of Beotian: And I toke a good deale thereof, and colouringe the matter, brought it to my Mistris. And so when night came, before your retorne frō sup­per, she (to bringe her purpose to passe) wente vp to a high gallery of her house, openyng to the East parte of [Page 30] the worlde, and preparinge her selfe accordinge to her accustomed practise, she gathered together all her sub­stance for fumigatiōs, she brought forth plates of met­tall carued with straunge charecters, she prepared the bones of such as were drowned by tempest in the seas, she made reddy the mēbers of dead men, as their nose­thrilles and fingers, She sette out the lumpes of flesh of suche as weare hanged, the bloudde whiche she had reserued of such as weare slaine, and the iawe bones, & téeth of wilde beastes, then she said certaine charmes ouer the heare, and dipped it in diuers waters, as in well water, cowe milke, mountaine hony and other li­cour, whiche when she had done she tied and lapped it vp together, and with many perfumes and smelles threw it into a whote fire to burne. Then by the great force of this sorcerie, and the violence of so many con­fections, those bodies (whose heare was burnyng in the fire) receaued humaine shape, and felte, hard, and wal­ked. And (smellinge the sent of their owne heare) came and rappid at our doores in stéede of Boetius. Thē you beinge well tippled, & deceaued by the obscuritie of the night, drewe out your swoorde couragiously, like furi­ous Aiax, and killed, (not as he did the whole hearde of beastes) but thrée blowen skinnes, to the intent that I after the slaughter of so many enemies without effusiō of bloud, might embrace and kisse not an homicide but an Vtricide: thus when I was pleasantly mocked and taunted by Fotis, I said vnto her: Verely, now may I for this atchieued enterprise be numbred, as Hercules who by his valiaunt prowesse perfourmed the twelue notable labours, as Gerion with thrée bodies, and as Cerberus with thrée heades. For I haue s [...]aine thrée blowen geate skinnes, but to the ende that I may par­don [Page] thée of that whiche thou hast committed, performe the thinge whiche I shall most earnestly desire of thée, that is, bringe me that I may sée and beholde when thy Mistris goeth about any Sorcerie or enchauntment, and when she prayeth vnto the Goddes, for I am ve­rie desirous to learne that arte, and as it séemeth vnto me, thou thy selfe haste some experience in the same. For this I knowe and plainely féele, that (whereas I haue alwaies yrked and lothed the embrasinges and loue of Matrones) I am so stryken and subdued, with thy shininge eyes, ruddy chéekes, glitteringe heare, swéete cosses and lillie white pappes, that I neither haue minde to goe home, nor to departe hense, but estéeme the pleasure whiche I shall haue with thée this night, aboue all the ioyes of the worlde: Then (ꝙ she) O my Lucius how willinge would I be to fulfill your desire, but by reason she is so hated, she getteth her selfe into solitary places, and out of the presence of e­uerie person when she mindeth to woorke her enchant­mentes, how be it I regarde more to gratifie your re­quest, then I doo estéeme the daunger of my life: and when I sée oportunitie and time I wil assuredly bring you woorde, so that you shall sée all her enchauntment, but alwaies vpon this condicion that ye secreately keepe close suche thinges as are done: thus as we rea­soned together the courage of Venus assayled aswell our desires as our members: And so she vnrayed her selfe and came to bedde, and we passed the nighte in pastime and dalliance, till as by drowsie and vnlustie sléepe I was constrained to lie still.

¶Howe Fotis brought Apuleius to see her Mistris Enchaunt.

Cap. 16.

ON a day Fotis came runninge to me in great feare, and saide that her Mistris (to worke her sorceries on such as she loued) entēded, the night followinge, to transforme her selfe into a birde, and to flie whither she pleased, wherefore she willed me pri­uily to prepare my selfe to sée the same. And whē mid­night came she ledde me softly into a highe chamber, & bidde me looke thorough the chinke of a doore. Where firste I saw how she put of all her garmentes, and toke out of a certaine coffer sondrie kinde of boxes, of the which she opened one and tempred the ointment ther­in with her fingers, and then rubbed her bodie there­with frō the sole of the foote to the crowne of the head: And when she had spoken priuilie with her selfe, ha­uinge the candle in her hande she shaked the partes of her bodie, and beholde I perceaued a plume feathers did burgen out, her nose waxed croked and harde, her nailes turned into clawes, & so she became an Owle: Then she cried and skriched like a birde of that kinde, & willinge to proue her force, moued her selfe from the groūd by litle & litle, till at last she flewe quight away: Thus by her Sorcery she transformed her body into what shape she wold. Which whē I saw I was great­ly astonied & although I was enchaunted by no kinde of charme, yet I thought y I séemed not to haue y like­nes of Luciꝰ, for so was I banished frō my senses ama­sed in madnes, & so I dreamed wakinge, y I felte mine eies to know whether I weare a sléepe or no. But whē I was come againe to my selfe, I toke Fotis by y hāde, & moued it to my face, & said: I pray thée while occasion [Page] doth serue that I may haue the fruition of the fruictes of my desire, and graunt me some of this ointment. O Fotis I praye the by thy swéete pappes, to make that in the great flames of my loue I may be turned into a birde, so will I euer hereafter be boūde vnto you & obedient to your commaundement. Then said Fotis will you goe about to deceaue me now? and enforce me to worke mine owne sorrowe? Are you in that minde that you will not tarry in Thessalie? if you be a birde where shal I seeke you? and when shal I see you? Then answeared I: God forbidde that I should commit such a crime. For though I could flie into y ayre as an Egle, or though I were the messenger of Iupiter, yet would I haue recourse to nest with thee. And I sweare by the knotte of thy amiable heare, that since the time that I firste loued thée, I neuer fancied any other person: moreouer this commeth to my minde, that if by vertue of the ointment I shall become an Owle, I will take héede that I come nigh no mans house. For I am not to learne how these matrones would handle their lo­uers if they knewe that they were transformed into Owles: moreouer when they are taken in any place, they are nayled vpon postes, and so they are woorthely rewarded, because it is thought that they bringe euill fortune to the house. But I pray you (whiche I had al­most forgotten) tell me by what meanes, when I am an Owle, I shall returne to my pristine shape and be­come Lucius againe? Feare not (ꝙ she) for my Mistris hath taught me the way to bringe that to passe, neither thinke [...] that she did it for any good will or fauour, but to the ende I might helpe her, & minister some re­medie when she re [...]urneth home. Consider I pray you with your selfe, with what friu [...]lous trifles so merue­lous [Page 32] a thinge is wrought, for by Hercules I sweare, I giue her nothinge els, saue a little dill & lawrell leaues in well water, the whiche she drinketh and washeth her selfe withall: which when she had spoken she went into the chambre, & toke a boxe out of the coffer, whiche I first kissed and embrased, and prayed that I might haue good successe in my purpose. And then I put of all my garmentes and gréedely thrust my hande into the boxe, and toke out a good deale of ointment and rubbed my selfe withall.

¶How Apuleius thinkinge to be turned into a Birde, was turned into an Asse, and howe he was ledde away by theeues.

Cap. 17.

AFter that I had wel rubbed euery parte & mem­ber of my bodie, I houered with mine armes, & moued my selfe, lokinge still when I should be chaunged into a birde as Pamphile was, and beholde neither feathers nor apparaūce of feathers did burgen out, but verely my heare did turne into ruggednes, & my tender skinne waxed tough and harde, my fingers and toes lesing the nūber of fiue chaunged into hoofes, and out of mine arse grewe a great taile, now my face became monstruous, my nosethrilles wide, my lippes hanginge downe, and mine eares rugged with heare: Neither could I sée any comfort of my transformatiō, for my membres encreased likewise, and so without all helpe (viewyng euery parte of my poore bodie) I percea­ued that I was no birde, but a plaine Asse. Then I thought to blame Fotis, but beinge depriued aswell of language as humaine shape, I loked vpon her with my hanginge lippes and watrie eies, who (assone as she [Page] espied me in suche sorte) cried out alas poore wretche that I am, I am vtterly caste away. The feare that I was in, & my hast hath beguiled me, but especially the mistaking of the boxe hath deceaued me. But it forceth not much, since as a sooner medicine may be gotten for this, then for any other thyng. For if thou couldest get a Rose and eate it, thou shouldest be deliuered from the shape of an Asse, and become my Lucius againe. And would to God I had gathered some garlādes this eue­ning past according to my custome, then thou shouldest not continue an Asse one nightes space, but in the mor­ninge I will séeke some remedie. Thus Fotis lamen­ted in pitifull sorte, but I that was now a perfect Asse, and for Lucius a bruite beaste, did yet retaine the sense and vnderstandinge of a man. And did deuise a good space with my selfe, whether it were beste for me to teare this mischieuous and wicked harlotte with my mouth, or to kicke and kill her with my héeles. But a better thought reduced me from so rashe a purpose, for I feared least by the death of Fotis I should be depri­ded of all remedie and helpe. Then shakinge my head and dissimuling mine yre, and takinge mine aduersitie in good parte, I went into y stable to mine owne-horse, where I found an other Asse of Miloes, somtime mine hoste, and I did verely thinke that mine owne horse (it there were any natural cōsciēce or knowledge in brute beastes) would take pitie vpō me, & proffer me lodging for that night, but it chaunced farre otherwise: For see my horse & the Asse, as it weare, consented together to worke my harme, & fearing least I should eate vp their prouender, would in no wise suffer me to come nighe the manger, but kicked me with their héeles from their meate, whiche I my selfe gaue them the night before: [Page 33] Then I, beinge thus handled by them & driuen away, gotte me into a corner of the stable, where (while I re­membred their vncourtesie, and how on the morrow I should returne to Lucius by the helpe of a Rose, when as I thought to reuēge my selfe of mine owne horse) I fortuned to espie in the middle of a pillor sustainyng y rafters of the stable, the Image of the Goddesse Hip­pone, whiche was garnished and decked rounde about with faire fresh Roses: then in hope of present remedie I leaped vp with my fore féete as highe as I coulde, and stretchinge out my necke, and with my lippes coueted to snatche some Roses. But in an euill howre did I goe aboute that enterpryse, for beholde, the boye to whome I gaue charge of my horse came presently in, and findinge me climinge vpon the pillor, ranne freatinge towardes me, and said: How longe shall we suffer this vile Asse, that dothe not onely eate vp his fellowes meate, but also would spoile the images of the Goddes? why doo I not kill this lame théefe, and weake wretche? & therewithall lokinge about for some kidgel, he espied where lay a faggot of woodde, & choosinge out a crabbed trunchion of the biggest he could finde, did neuer cease beating of me poore wretch, vntil such time as by great noyes and rumbling, he harde the doores of the house burst open, and the neighbours crying in la­mentable sorte, whiche enforced him (being stroken in feare) to flie his way. And by and by a troope of théeues entred in, and kepte euery parte & corner of the house with weapons. And as men resorted to ayde and helpe thē which weare within the doores, the théeues resisted & kept them backe, for euery man was armed with his swoorde and Targette in his hande, the glympses whereof did yelde out such light as if it had bene daye. [Page] Then they brake opē a great cheste with double lockes and boltes, wherein was laide all the treasure of Milo, and ransakt the same, which when they had done they packed it vp, and gaue euery one a porciō to carry, but when they had more then they could beare away, yet weare they lothe to leaue any behinde, they came into the stable, and toke vs twoo poore Asses, and my horse, and laded vs with greater trusses then we weare able to beare. And when we weare out of the house, they followed vs with great staues, and willed one of their fellowes to tarry behinde, and bringe them tidinges what was done concerninge the robbery, and so they beate vs forwarde ouer great hilles out of y high way. But I, what with my heauy burthen, and my longe iourney did nothinge differ from a dead Asse, wherfore I determined with my selfe to séeke some ciuill reme­die, and by inuocation of the name of the Prince of the countrie, to be deliuered from so many miseries. And on a time as I passed thorough a great faire, I came a­mongst a multitude of Gréekes, and I thought to call vpon the renoumed name of the Emperour, & to say: O Cesar, and I cried out aloude, O, but Cesar I could in no wise pronounce: the théeues little regardinge my criynge did lay me on, and beate my wretched skinne in such sorte, that after it was neither apte nor méete to make siues or sarces. How be it at laste Iupiter mini­sterd vnto me an vnhoped remedie. For when we had passed thorough many townes & villages, I fortuned to espie a pleasaunt garden, wherein, besides many other flowers of delectable hewe, weare newe and freshe Roses, and (beinge very ioyfull and desirous to catche some as I passed by) I drewe nerer and nerer, and while my lippes watred vpō them, I thought of a [Page 34] better aduise more profitable for me: least if from an Asse I should become a man, I might fal into the hādes of the theeues, and either by suspitiō that I weare some Witche, or for feare that I would vtter their thefte, I should be slaine, wherfore I abstained for that time frō eatinge of Roses. And (enduringe my present aduersi­tie) I eate hay as other Asses did.

The fourth Booke of Lucius Apuleius of the Golden Asse.

¶How Apuleius thinkinge to goe to eate Roses, was cru­elly beaten by a Gardener and chased by Dogges.

Cap. 18.

WHen noone was come, that the broy­linge heate of the Sunne had moste power, we turned into a village to certaine of the théeues acquaintāce and fréendes, for verely their me­tinge and embrasinge together, did giue me (poore Asse) cause to déeme y e same: And thei toke the trusse from my backe, and gaue them parte of the treasure whiche was in it, and they séemed to whisper & tel them that it was stolen goodes, and after that we weare vnladen of our burthens, thei lette vs lose into a medow to pasture, but mine owne horse, & Milos Asse, would not suffer me to féede there with them, but I muste séeke my dinner in some other place. Wherefore I leaped into a gardein, whiche was behinde the stable, and beinge welnie perished with honger, although I could finde nothing there but raw & gréene sallettes, yet I filled my hongry guttes there­withall [Page] abundantly, and praying vnto all the Goddes, I loked about in euery place if I could espie any redde Roses in the gardens by, and my solitarie being alone did put me in good hope, y if I could finde any remedie I should presently of an Asse be chaunged into Lucius out of euery mans sight, and while I considered these thinges, I looked about, & behold I saw a farre of a sha­dowed valley adioyninge nigh vnto a woodde, where, emongst diuers other hearbes & pleasaunt verdures, I thought I sawe many florishinge Roses of bright Da­maske colour. And I said within my bestiall minde: ve­rely y place is the place of Venus & the Graces, where secretely glittereth the royall hewe, of so liuely & dele­ctable a flower: Then I desiring y helpe of the guide of my good fortune, ranne lustely towardes the woodde, in so much y I felt my self that I was no more an Asse, but a swifte coursinge horse, but my agilitie and quick­nes could not preuent the crueltie of my fortune: For when I came to the place, I perceaued that they were no Roses, neither tēder, nor pleasant, neither moisted with the heauenly droppes of dew nor celestiall licour, whiche grewe out of the thicket and thornes there. Neither did I perceaue y there was any valley at all, but onely the banke of the riuer enuironed with great thicke trées, which had lōg braūches like vnto Lawrel, & bearinge a flower without any manner of sente, and the common people call them by the name of Lawrell roses, whiche be very poyson to all manner of beastes. Then was I so entangled with vnhappy fortune, that I litle estéemed mine owne daunger, & went willingly to eate of those Roses, though I knewe them to be pre­sent poyson. And as I drewe nere, I sawe a yong man that séemed to be the Gardener, come vpon me, & when [Page 35] he perceaued that I had deuoured vp all his hearbes in the gardein, he came swearinge with a great staffe in his hande, and laide vpon me, in such sorte that I was welnie dead, but I spéedely deuised some remedy for my selfe, for I lifte vp my legges and kicked him with my hinder héeles, that I lefte him liynge at the hill foote welnie slaine, and so I ranne away: incontinent­ly came out his wife, who seinge her husbande halfe dead, cried and houled in pitifull sorte, and wente to­warde her husbande to the intent that by her lowde cries she might purchase to me present destruction: thē all the persons of the towne, moued and raysed by her noyes came foorth, and cried for dogges to teare me downe: Out came a great company of bandogges and masties more fitte to pull downe Beares and Lions then me, whom when I behelde, I thought verely that I should presently die, but I turned my selfe aboute & ranne as faste as euer I might to the stable frō whense I came. Then the men of the towne called in their dogges, and toke me, and bounde me to the staple of a poste, and scourged me with a great knotted whippe till I was welny dead, and they would vndoubtedly haue slaine me, had it not come to passe that what with the paine of their beatinge and the gréene hearbes that lay in my guttes, I caught suche a laske that I all be sprinkled their faces, with my liquide donge, and en­forced them to leaue of.

¶How Apuleius was preuented of his purpose, and how the theeues came to their denne.

Cap 19.

NOt longe after, the théeues laded vs againe, and especially me, and brought vs foorth out of the stable, and when we had gone a good parte of our [Page] iourney, what with the longe way, my great burthen, the beatinge of staues, and my worne hoofes, I was so weary that I could scantly goe: then I sawe a litle be­fore me a riuer, runninge with faire water, & I said to my selfe: behold now I haue founde a good occasiō. For I will fall downe when I come yender, and surely I will not rise againe, neither with scourginge nor bea­tinge, for I had rather be slaine there presently, then goe any further. And the cause why I determined so to doo, was this, I thought that when the théeues did sée me so féeble and weake that I could not trauell, to the intent they would not stay in their iourney, they would take of the burthen from my backe, and put it vpon my fellowes, and so for my further punishment to leaue me as a praye to the Wolues and rauenous beastes: but euill fortune preuented so good a conside­ration: For the other Asse, beinge of the same purpose that I was of, by feigned and coloured werines, fell downe first with all his burthen vpon the grounde as though he weare dead, and he would not rise neither with beatinge nor prickinge, nor stande vpon his féete though they pulled him vp by the taile, by his legges, and by his eares, whiche when the théeues behElde, as without al hope, they said one to an other, what should we stande here so longe, about a dead, or rather a stony Asse? let vs be gonne. And so thei toke his burthen, and deuided some to me, and some to my horse. And then they drewe out their swoordes and cutte of his legges, and threwe his bodie from the pointe of a hill downe into a great valley: then I considering with my selfe of the euill fortune of my poore compaignion, and purpo­sed now to forgette al subtiltie and deceite, and to play the good Asse to gette my Maisters fauour, for I per­ceaued [Page 36] by their talke that we weare welny come home to our iourneis end. And after that we had passed ouer a litle hil, we came to our appointed place, where, whē we weare vnladen of our burthens, & all thinges car­ried in, I tumbled and wallowed in the dust, to refresh my selfe, in stéede of water. The thing and the time cō ­pelleth me to make description of the places, and speci­ally of the denne where the théeues did inhabite, I wil proue my witte what I can doo, and then consider you whether I was an Asse in iudgement and sense, or no.

First, there was an excéeding great hill compassed about with bigge trées, very high, with many turning bottomes, full of sharpe stones whereby it was inac­cessible: there was many windinge and hollow valleis enuironed with thickettes and thornes, and naturally fortressed round about: Frō the toppe of the hill ranne a runninge riuer as cléere as siluer, and watred all the valeis below, that it séemed like vnto a sea enclosed, or a standinge floode: before the denne, where was no hill, stoode a highe towre, & at the foote thereof weare shepe­cotes fenced and watled with clay: Before the gate of the house were pathes made in stéede of walles, in such sorte that you would easely iudge it to be a very denne for théeues, & there was nothinge else saue a litle coate couered with thatche, wherein the théeues did nightly accustome to watch by order, as after I perceaued. And when they were all crepte into the house, and we faste tied with halters at the doore, they began to chide with an olde woman there, crooked with age, who had the gouernment and rule of al the house, and said: How is it olde Witche, olde trotte and strumpet, that thou sit­test idely all day at home, and (hauinge no regarde to our perillous labors) haste prouided nothinge for our [Page] suppers? but sittest eating and swillinge thy selfe from morning til night: Then the old woman trembled and scantly able to speake, gan say: Beholde my puisant & faithful maisters you shal haue meate & potage inough by and by. Here is first store of bread, wine plentie, fil­led in cleane rinsed pottes, likewise here is whote wa­ter prepared to bathe you. Whiche when she had said, they put of all their garmentes & refreshed them selues by the fire. And after thei were washed & nointed with oyle, they satte downe at the table garnished with all kinde of deinty meates: thei were no sooner set downe, but in came an other company of yonge men, more in number then was before, who séemed likewise to be théeues: For thei brought in their praies of Golde, and Siluer, Plate, Iuelles, & riche robes, & when they had likewise washed, they satte emōgst the rest and serued one an other by ordre. Thē thei dranke & eate exceding­ly, criyng, laughing, & making such noyes, y I thought I was emongst the tirannous & wilde Lapithes, The­banes, & Centaures. At length one of thē more valiant then the rest spake in this sorte, we verely haue man­fully cōquered the house of Milo of Hypata, & beside all the richesse, & treasure which by force we haue brought away, we are all come home salue, and are encreased the more by this horse & this Asse. But you that haue roued about in the countrey of Beotia haue loste your valiant Capitaine Lamathus. Whose life I more re­garded then all this treasure which you haue brought. And therefore the memorie of him shalbe renoumed for euer emongst the moste noble Kinges, and valiant Capitaines, but you accustome when you goe abroade like men with ganders hartes to créepe through eue­ry corner and hole for euery trifle. Then one of them [Page 37] that came laste answeared: Why are you onely igno­rant, that the greater the number is, the sooner they may robbe and spoyle the house? and although the fa­milie be dispersed in diuers lodginges, yet euery man had rather to defende his owne life then to saue the ri­chesse of his maister, but when there be but a fewe théeues, then will they rather not onely regarde them selues, but also their substāce, how litle or great so euer it be. And to the intent you may beléeue me I wil show you an example: we weare come nothinge nighe vnto Thebes, where is the fountaine of our arte and sciēce, but we learned where a riche chuffe called Chryseros did dwell, who for feare of offices in y publique weale, dissimuled his estate, and liued sole and solitary in a small cote, how be it replenished with aboundaunce of treasure, and wente dayly in ragged & torne apparell. Wherefore we deuised with our selues to goe to his house and spoyle him of all his richesse. And whē night came, we drew towardes his doore which was so strōg­ly closed y we could neither moue it. nor lifte it out of y hookes, & we thought it not best to breake it open, least by y noyes we should raise vp (to our harme) the neigh­bors bie. Then our stronge & valiant Capitaine Lama­thus trustinge his owne strength & force, thrust in his hāde through a hole of the doore, & thought to pull backe the bolte, but the couetous caytife Chryseros beinge a­wake & making no noyes, came softely to the doore and caught his hande, & with a great naile nailed it fast to a poste, which when he had donne, he ranne vp to a high chāber, & called euery one of his neighbours by name, desiringe them to succour him with all possible spéede, for his house was a fire: Then euery one for feare of their owne daunger came runninge out to ayde him, [Page] wherewith we (fearinge our present perill) knewe not what was best to be done, whether we should leaue our compaignion there, or yelde our selues to die with him, but we by his consent deuised a better way: For we cut of his arme by the elbow, & so let it hange there▪ then we boūd his wound with cloutes, least we should be traced by the droppes of bloud, which done we tooke Lamathus and ledde him away for feare we should be taken, but when we weare so nighe pursued that we weare in present daunger: And that Lamathus coulde not kéepe our companie by reason of faintnes: and on y other side perceauinge that it was not for his profite to linger behinde, he spake vnto vs as a man of singuler courage & vertue, desiringe vs by much entreatie and prayer, and by the puisance of the God Mars, and the faith of our confederacie to deliuer his bodie from tor­ment & miserable captiuitie: And further he said, how is it possible that so couragious a Capitaine can liue without his hand? wherwith he could somtimes robbe and slea so many people, I would thinke my selfe suffi­cient happy if I might be slaine by one of you: but whē he saw that we all refused to cōmitte any such facte, he drewe out his swoorde with his other hande, and after that he had often kissed it, he thrust it cleane thorough his bodie: Then we honored the corps of so puisant a man, and wrapped it in linnen clothes and threw him into the sea: so lieth our master Lamathus buried and hidde in the graue of water, & ended his life as I haue declared: but Alcinus though he weare a man of great enterprise, yet could he not beware by Lamathus, nor volde him selfe from euil fortune: for on a day when he had entred into an olde womans house to robbe her, he went vp into a high chāber, where he should first haue [Page 39] strāgled her, but he had more regarde to throw downe the bagges of money and Golde out at the window to vs that stoode vnder: And when he was so gréedie that he would leaue nothinge behinde, he went to the olde womans bedde where she lay a sléepe, and would haue taken of the couerlet to haue throwē downe likewise, but she awaked & (knelyng vpon her knées) desired him in this manner: O sir I pray you caste not away suche torne and ragged clouses into my neighbours houses, for they are riche inough & néede no such thinges: then Alcinus (thinking her woordes to be true) was brought in beliefe that such thinges as he had throwen out al­ready, and such thinges as he should throwe out after, was not fallen downe to his fellowes, but into other mens houses, wherfore he went to the window to sée, and as he thought to beholde the places rounde about, thrustinge his bodie out of the window, the old womā marked him well, & came behinde him softlie, and al­though she had but small strength, yet with a sodaine force she tooke him by the héeles & thrust him out head­longe, and so he fell vpon a meruelous great stone, and burst his ribbes, whereby he vomited and spued flakes of bloud, and presently died: Then we threw him into the riuer likewise, as we had done Lamathus before: When we had thus lost twoo of our compaignions, we liked not Thebes, but marched towardes the next Ci­tie called Platea, where we founde a mā of great fame named Demochares, that purposed to set foorth a great game, where should be a triall of al kinde of weapons: he was come of a good house, meruelous riche, liberall, and well deserued that which he had, and had prepared many showes and pleasures for the common people: in so much that there is no mā can either by witte or elo­quence [Page] showe in woordes his woorthy preparatiōs. For first he had prouided all sortes of armes, he greatly de­lighted in huntinge and chasinge, he ordeyned great towres and tables to moue hither and thither: he made many places to chase and encounter in: he had ready a great number of men and wilde beastes, and many cō ­demned persons were brought from the iudgement place to trie and fight with those beastes, but emongst so great preparations of noble pryce, he bestowed the moste parte of his patrimonie in biynge of Beares, whiche he nourished to his great coste, and estéemed more then all the other beastes, which eitheir by cha­singe he caught him selfe, or whiche he déerely bought, or which were giuen him from diuers of his fréendes, howbeit for al his sumptuous coste, he could not be frée frō the malitious eies of enuie: for some of them were welnie dead, with too longe tiynge vp: some meigre with the broyling heate of the Sunne: some lāguished with liynge, but all (hauinge sundry diseases) weare so afflicted taht they died one after an other, and there was welnie none lefte, in such sorte that you might sée them liyng in the stréetes piteously dead: And the com­mon people hauing no other meate to féede on, litle re­gardinge any curiositie, would come foorth & fill their bellies with the fleash of the Beares. Then by and by Babulus and I deuised a pretie sporte, we drewe one of the greatest of the Beares to our lodging, as though we would prepare to eate thereof, where we fleade of his skinne, and kepte his vngles whole, but we medled not with the head but cutte it of by the necke, and so let it hange to the skinne: Then we rased of the fleash from the backe, and cast dust thereon, and set it in the Sunne to drie.

¶How Thrasileon was disguised in a Beares skinne, and how he was handled.

Cap. 20.

WHile the skinne was a driynge, we made me­ry with the fleashe, and then we deuised with our selues that one of vs, being more vali­ant then the rest bothe in bodie and courage, (so that he would consent thereto) shoulde put on the skinne, and (feminge that he weare a Beare) should be ledde to Demochares house in the night, by whiche meanes we thought to be receaued and lette in. Many were desirous to play the Beare, but especially one Thrasi­leon of a couragious minde would take this enterprise in hande. Then we put him into the Beares skinne, whiche fitted him finely in euery pointe, we buckled it fast vnder his belly, & couered the seame with the heare y it might not be séene. After this, we made litle holes thorough the Beares head, & thorough his nosethrilles and cies for Thrasileon to sée out and take winde at, in such sorte that he séemed a very liuely & naturall beast: when this was done, we went into a caue whiche we hired for y purpose, and he crepte in after like a Beare with a good courage. Thus we began our subtiltie, and then we imagined thus, we feigned letters as though they come frō on Nicanor whiche dwelled in the coun­trey of Thracia, which was of great acquaintāce with this Demochares, wherein we wrote that he had sent him, being his fréende, the first fruictes of his coursing and huntinge, when night was come (whiche was a méete time for our purpose) we brought Thrasileon, & our forged letters and presented thē to Demochares. When Demochares behelde this mightie Beare, and saw the liberalitie of Nicanor his fréende, he cōmaun­ded his seruaunt to deliuer vnto vs tenne crownes, as [Page] he had great store in his coffers: Then (as the noueltie of a thing doth accustome to stirre mens mindes to be­holde the same) many persons came on euery side to sée this Beare, but Thrasileō, (lest they should by curious viewyng and priyng perceaue the truthe) ranne vpon them to put them in feare, that thei durst not come nie. The people said: verely Demochares is right happy, in that, after the death of so many beastes, he hath gotten (maugre fortunes head) so goodly a Beare, then Demo­chares commaunded that with great care he should be put into the parke by, emongst the other beastes, but I immediatly spake vnto him, and said: Sir I pray you take héede how you put a beaste tyred with the heate of the Sunne, and with longe trauell emongst others, whiche (as I here say) haue diuers maladies & diseases: let him rather lie in some opē place of your house nighe to some water, where he may take ayre and ease him selfe, for doo not you know that suche kinde of beastes doo greatly delight ot couche vnder shadow of trées, & hillockes, nigh vnto pleasant welles & waters. Hereby Demochares admonished, and remembringe how ma­ny he had before that perished, was contented that we should put the Beare where we would: Moreouer we saide vnto him, that we our selues wre determined to lie all night nigh vnto the Beare, to looke vnto him, & to giue him meate and drinke at his due hower. Then he answeared: Verely maisters you néede not to put your selues to such paines: for I haue men taht serueth for nothinge but for that purpose: so we toke leaue of him and departed, and when we weare come without the gates of the towne, we perceaued before vs a great Sepulchre standinge out of the highe way, in a priuie and secreate place. And thither we wente and opened [Page 40] the mouth thereof, whereas we founde the sides coue­red with the corruption of man, and the ashes and dust of his longe buried bodie, wherein we gotte our selues to bringe our purpose to passe, and (hauinge a respect to the darke time of the night accordinge to our custome) when we thought that euery man was a sléepe, we went with our weapōs and besieged the house of De­mochares round about: Then Thrasileon was reddy at hande, and leaped out of the cauerne, and wente to kill all such as he founde a sléepe, but when he came to the porter he opened the gates and let vs all in: and thē he showed vs a large counter, wherin he sawe put (the night before) a great aboundaunce of treasure, whiche when by violence we had broken open, I bidde euery one of my fellowes take as much Golde and Siluer as they could beare away, and carry it to the Sepulchre, and still as they caried, I stoode at the gate, watchinge diligently when they would retorne. The Beare run­ned about the house to make such of the familie affeard as fortuned to wake and come out: For who is he that is so puisant and courageous, that at the vgly sight of so great a Monster will not quaile and kéepe his cham­ber especially in the night, but when we had brought this matter to so good a pointe, there chaunced a pitiful case: For as I looked for my compaignions that should come from the Sepulchre, beholde there was a boye of the house, that fortuned to looke out at a windowe and espied the Beare rūning about, and he went and tolde al the seruaūtes of the house, whereupon incontinent­ly they came foorth with torches, lanthornes, and other lightes that they might sée all the yarde ouer, thei came with clubbes, speares, naked swoordes, greyhoundes & masties to slea the poore beast: Then I (duringe this broile) [Page] thought to runne away, but because I would sée Thrasileon fightinge with the dogges, I lay behinde y gate to beholde him. And although I might perceaue that he was welnie dead, yet remembred he his owne faithfulnes and ours, and valiātly resisted the gaping and rauenous mouthes of the helhoūdes, so toke he in grée the pageant which willingly he toke in hande him selfe, and with much a doo tumbled at length out of the house, but when he was at libertie abroade, yet coulde he not saue him selfe, for all the dogges of the streate ioyned them selues to the greyhoūdes & masties of the house, and came vpon him: Alas what a pitifull sight it was, when our poor Thrasileon was thus enuironed & compassed with so many dogges, that tare & rente him miserably, then I (impatient of so great his miserie) rāne in emongst the prease of the people, & (ayding him with my woordes as much as I might) exhorted them al in this manner. O great & extreame mischaunce, what a pretious and excellent beast haue we loste: but my woordes did nothinge preuaile. For there came out a tale man with a speare in his hande y t trust him cleane thorough, and afterwardes many that stoode by, drewe out their swoordes & so they killed him. But verely our good Capitaine Thrasileon, the honour of our cōforte receaued his death so patiently, that he would not be­wray the league betwene vs, either by criynge, how­linge or any other meanes, but (being torne with dogges, & wounded with weapons) did yelde foorth a dolefull crie, more like vnto a beast then a mā. And ta­kinge his present fortune in good parte, with courage & glory inough did finish his life, with such a terrour vn­to the assembly, that no person was so hardy (vntill it was day) as to touch him, though he weare starke dead [Page 41] but at last there came a Butcher more valiant then the rest, who (openinge the panche of the beast) slitte out a hardy and venturous théefe. In this manner we loste our Capitaine Thrasileon▪ but he lost not his fame and honour: when this was done we packed vp our trea­sure, which we cōmitted to the Sepulchre to kéepe, and gotte vs out of the boundes of Platea, thinkinge with our selues that there was more fidelitie emongest the dead, then emōgst the liuing, by reason that our praies was so surely kept in the Sepulchre: So (being weried with the weight of our burthens, & welnie tired with long trauel, hauing lost thrée of our souldiours) we are come home with these present cheates: Thus whē they had spoken (in memory of their slaine cōpaignions) thei tooke cuppes of Golde & songe Hympnes vnto the God Mars, & layde them downe to sléepe. Then the old wo­man gaue vs fresh barley without measure, in so much that my Horse sedde so abundantly that he might well thinke he was at some bankette that day. But I (that was accustomed to eate branne & flowre) thought that but a sower kinde of meate, wherfore espiyng a corner where lay loues of bread for all the house, I gotte me thither, and filled my hungry guttes withall.

¶How the theeues stole away a Gentel woman, and brought her to their denne.

Cap. 21.

WHen night was come, the Théeues awaked & rose vp: and when thei had buckled on their weapōs, & disguised their faces with visardes, they departed, & yet for al the great sléepe y came vpon me, I could in no wise leaue eatinge, and wheras, when I was a man, I could be cōtented w t one or twoo loues at the most, now [Page] my guttes weare so gréedy that thrée pann [...]ers full would scantly serue me, and while I cōsidered all these thinges the morning came, and being ledde to a riuer, (notwithstanding mine Assy shamefastnes) I quēched my thirst. And sodēly after the théeues returned home carefull and heauy, bringinge no burthens with them, no not so muche as traffe or baggage, saue onely a maiden that séemed by her habite to be some gētle wo­man borne, and the daughter of some woorthy Matron of that countrey, who was so faire and beautifull, that though I weare an Asse, yet had I a great affection to her: The virgin lamented and tare her heare, & spoyled her garmentes for the great sorrow she was in, but the théeues brought her within the caue, and assaied to cō ­sorte her in this sorte: Wéepe not fayre Gentle woman we pray you, for be you assured that we wil doo no out­rage nor violence to your person, but take pacience a while for our profit: For necessitie & poore estate hath cōpelled vs to doo this enterprise, we warrant you that your parentes (although they be couetous) wil be con­tented to giue vs a great quātitie of money to redéeme and ransom you from our handes. With such and like flattering woordes they endeuored to appease the gen­tle woman, how be it she would in no case be comforted but put her head betwene her knées & cried piteously. Then thei called the old woman and commaunded her to sitte by the maiden, and pacifie her dolor as much as she might. And they departed away to robbe, as they accustomed to doo, but the virgin would not asswage her griefes nor mitigate her sorrow by any entreatie of the olde woman, but houled and sobbed in such sorte that she made me (poore Asse) likewise to wéepe, & thus she said: Alas can I poore wretche liue any longer, that [Page 42] am come of so good a house, forsaken of al my parentes, fréendes, and familie, made a rapine and pray, closed seruily in this stony prison, depriued of all pleasure wherein I haue bene brought vp, throwen in daūger, ready to be rente in péeces emongest so many sturdy théeues, and dreadfull robbers, can I (I say) cease from wepinge or liue any lenger? Thus she cried and lamē ­ted, and after she had weried her selfe with sorrow, & bloubered her face with teares, she closed y windowes of her hollow eies and laide her downe to sléepe: And after taht she had slept, she rose againe, like a furious & madde woman, and beate her breast and comely face more than she did before: Then the old woman enqui­red the causes of her newe and sodaine lamentation, to whom (sighing in pitifull sorte) she answeared: Alas now I am vtterly vndone, now I am out of all hope, O giue me a knife to kill me, or a halter to hange me, whereat the olde woman was more angry, & seuerely commaunded her to tel her the cause of her sorrow, and why after her sléepe she should renew her dolor & mise­rable wepinge, what thinke you (ꝙ she) to deceaue our yonge men of the price of your ransom? no, no, therfore cease your criyng, for the théeues doo litle estéeme your houlinge, and if you will not, I will surely burne you aliue: Hereat the mayden was greatly a [...]card and kis­sed her hande, and saide: O mother take pitie vpon me and my wretched fortune, and giue me licence a while to speake, for I thinke I shall not longe liue, let there mercy be ripe and frāke in your venerable hoare head, and here the some of my calamitie: There was a come­ly yonge man, who for his bountie and grace was be­loued entierly of all the towne, my coosin Germaine, & but thrée yeres elder then I, we twoo were nourished [Page] and brought vp in one house, and lay vnder one roofe and in one chamber, and at lengthe by promise of Ma­riage, and by consent of our parentes we weare con­tracted together: the Mariage day was come, the house was garnished with Lawrell, and torches were set in euery place in the honour of Hymeneus, my espouse was accompaigned with his parentes, kinsefolke and fréendes, & made Sacrafice in the Temples & publique places: And when my vnhappy mother pampred me in her lappe, & decked me like a bryde kissing me swéetely, & making me a parent for childrē, behold there came in a great multitude of théeues, armed like men of warre, with naked swoordes in their handes, who wente not about to doo any harme, neither to take any thinge a­way, but brake into the chāber where I was, & violētly toke me out of my mothers armes, when none of the familie would resiste for feare. In this sorte was our Marriage distourbed, like the Mariage of Hyppodame & Perithous: but behold good Mother nowe my vnhap­py fortune is renewed & encreased: For I dreamed in my sléepe that I was pulled out of our house, out of our chambre, and out of my bedde, and that I romed about in solitary and vnknowen places, callinge vpon the name of my vnfortunate husbande, and how that he (assone as he perceaued that I was taken away, euen smelling with perfumes & crowned with garlādes) did trace me by my steppes, desiringe the aide of the people to assist him, in y his wife was violently stolen away: And as he wente criynge vp and downe, one of the théeues moued by indignation by reason of his pur­suite, toke vp a stone that lay at his feete and threwe it at my husband and killed him. By the terrour of which sight, and the feare of so dreadfull a dreame I awaked. [Page 43] Then the old woman rendringe out like sighes, began to speake in this sorte, my daughter take a good harte vnto you, and be not afearde at feigned and straunge visions or dreames, for as the visions of the day are ac­compted false and vntrewe, so the visions of the night doo often chaunce contrary. And to dreame of wéeping, beatinge and killing, is a token of good lucke and pro­sperous chaunge, whereas contrary, to dreame of laughinge, carnall dalliance and good chéere, is signe of sadnes, sicknes, losse of substaunce and displeasure. But I will tell thée a pleasaunt tale to put away all thy sorowe and to reuiue thy Spirites: And so she be­ganne in this manner.

¶ The most pleasaunt and delectable tale of the Marriage of Cupide and Psyches.

Cap. 22.

THere was sometimes, a certaine Kinge, inhabi­tyng in the Weast partes, who had to wife a no­ble Dame, by whome he had thrée daughters ex­céedinge fayre: Of whome the twoo elder weare of such comely shape & beautie, as they did excell and passe all other womē liuing, wherby they weare thought, woor­thely, so deserue the praise and commendation of euery person, and deseruedly to be preferred aboue the resi­dew of the common sorte: Yet the singuler passinge beautie and maidenly Maiestie of the yongest daugh­ter, did so farre surmounte and excell them twoo, as no earthly creature coulde by any meanes sufficiently ex­presse or set out the same, by reason whereof (after the fame of this excellēt maiden was spred abrode in euery part of y Citie,) the Citizens & straūgers there, beinge inwardly pricked by zelous affection to beholde her fa­mous person, came daily by thousandes, hundreds and [Page] scores to her fathers Pallaice, who as astonied with admiration of her incomperable beautie did no lesse woorshippe and reuerence her, with crosses, signes and tokens, and other diuine adorations, accordinge to the custome of the olde vsed rites and ceremonies, then if she weare Ladie Venus in déede: And shortly after the fame was spredde into the next Cities and borderinge Regions, that the Goddesse whome the déepe seas had borne and brought foorth, & the frothe of the spurginge waues had nourished, to the intent to showe her highe magnificencie and diuine power in earth, This maide was thought to be Venus. to suche as earst did honour and woorshippe her: was now conuer­sant emongst mortall men, or els that the earth & not the seas, by a newe concurse and influence of the cele­stiall Planetes, had budded and yelded foorth a newe Venus, endewed with y flower of virginitie: So day­ly more and more encreased this opinion, and now is her fliyng fame dispersed into the next Yslelonde, and welnie into euery parte and prouince of the whole worlde. Whereupon innumerable straūgers, resorted from farre countreis, aduenturinge them selues by longe iourneis on lande, and by great perilles on wa­ter to beholde this glorious Virgin. By occasion wher­of suche a contempt grewe towardes the Goddesse Ve­nus, that no person trauelled vnto the towne Paphos, nor to the ysle Gindos, no nor to Cithera to woorshippe her. Her ornamentes weare throwen out, her Tēples defaced, her pillowes and quishions torne, her ceremo­nies neglected, her Images and statues vncrowned, & her bare aulters vnswept, and foule with the ashes of old burned sacrafice. For why euery person honored & worshipped this maiden in stéede of Venus. And in the morninge at her first comminge abroade, offered vnto [Page 44] her oblations, prouided banquettes, called her by the name of Venus whiche was not Venus in déede, and in her honour presented flowers and garlādes in most reuerent fashion.

This sodeine chaunge and alteration of celestiall honour did greatly inflame & kindle the minde of very Venus, who (vnable to temper her selfe from indigna­tion, shakinge her head in raginge sorte) reasoned with her selfe in this manner: Beholde the originall parent of all these elementes, beholde the lady Venus renou­med thoroughout all the worlde, with whome a mor­tall mayden is ioyned now partaker of honour, my name registred in the Citie of heauen, is prophaned and made vile by terrene absurdities, if I shal suffer a­ny mortall creature to present my Maiestie in earth, or that any shall beare about a false surmised shape of my person: then in vaine did Paris that sheaparde (in whose iust iudgement and cōfidence the great Iupiter had affiance) preferre me aboue the residew of the God­desses for the excellencie of my beautie: but she what so euer she be that hath vsurped mine honour, shall shortly repent her of her vnlawfull estate: And by and by she called her winged sonne Cupide, rashe inough, and hardie, who by his euil manners, contemninge all publique iustice and lawe, armed with fire & arrowes, runninge vp and downe in the nightes from house to house, and corruptinge the lawfull marriages of euery person, doth nothinge but that whiche is euill, who al­though that he weare of his owne proper nature suffi­cient prone to woorke mischiefe, yet she egged him forwarde with woordes and brought him to the Citie, and shewed him Psyches (for so the mayden was cal­led) and hauyng tolde the cause of her anger, not with­out [Page] great rage) I pray thée (ꝙ she) my déere childe by motherly bonde of loue, by the swéete woundes of thy percinge dartes, by the pleasaunt heate of thy fire, re­uenge the iniurie which is done to thy mother, by the false and disobedient beautie of a mortall mayden, and I pray thée without delay, y she may fall in loue with the moste miserablest creature liuinge, the most poore, the most crooked, and the most vile, that there may be none founde in all the worlde of like wretchednes. When she had spoken these woordes, she embrased and kissed her sonne, & toke her voiage towardes the sea.

When she was come to the sea, she began to call the Goddes & Goddesses, who were obedient at her voyce. For incontinent came y daughters of Nereus singing with tunes melodiously: Portunus with his bristled & rough bearde: Salatia, with her bosome ful of fish: Pa­lemon, the driuer of the Dolphin, the trumpetters of Triton leapinge hither and thither, & blowinge with heauenly noies: Such was the cōpany which followed Venus marchinge towardes the Occean sea.

In the meane season Psyches with al her beautie re­ceaued no fruicte of her honour: She was wondred at of al▪ she was praised of al, but she perceaued y no King nor Prince, nor any of the inferiour sorte did repayre to woo her. Euery one merueled at her diuine beautie, as it were at some Image well painted & sette out. Her other twoo sisters, which were nothinge so greatly ex­alted by the people, were royally married to twoo Kinges, but the virgin Psyches sittinge at home alone lamented her solitary life, & beinge disquieted both in minde and bodie (although she pleased al the world) yet hated she in her selfe her owne beautie.

Wherupon the miserable father of this vnfortunate [Page 45] daughter suspectyng that the Goddes & powers of hea­uen did enuie her estate, wente vnto the towne called Milet to receaue the oracle of Apollo, where he made his prayers and offered sacrifice: and desired a husband for his daughter, but Apollo though he were a Grecian and of the countrie of Ionia, because of the foundation of Milet yet he gaue answeare in Latine verse, the sense whereof was this.

Let Psyches corps be cladd in mourninge weede
And sette on rocke of yonder hill aloft
Her husbande is no wight of humaine seede
But Serpent dyre and fierce as may be thought
Who flies with winges aboue in starry skies
And doth subdew eche thinge with firy flight
The Goddes them selues and powers that seeme so wise
With mighty Ioue be subiect to his might
The riuers blacke and deadly floodes of paine
And darkenes eke as thrall to him remaine.

The Kyng somtimes happy, when he harde the Pro­phecie of Apollo returned home sadde & sorowfull, and declared to his wife the miserable and vnhappy fate of his daughter, then they began to lament, and wéepe, and passed ouer many daies in great sorrow, but now the time approched of Psyches marriage, preparation was made, blacke torches were lighted, the pleasaunt songes were turned into pitifull cries, the melody of Hymeneus was ended with deadly howlinge, Hymeneu, the God of Mar­riage. the mai­den that should be married did wipe her eies with her veile: all the family, and people of the Citie, wéeped likewise, and with great lamentation was ordained a remisse time for that day, but necessitie compelled that Psyches should be brought to her appointed place, ac­cordinge to the diuine commaundement. And when [Page] the solemnitie was ended, they went to bringe this so­rowfull spouse, not to her marriage, but to her finall ende and buriall. And while the father and mother of Psyches did goe forwarde, wepinge and criynge to doo this enterprise, Psyches spake vnto them in this sorte: why torment you your vnhappy age with continuall dolor? why trouble you your spirites, which are more rather mine then yours? why soyle ye your faces with teares, whiche I ought to adoure and woorshippe? why teare you my eies in yours? why pull you your hoare heares? why knocke you your breastes for me? now you sée the rewarde of my excellent beautie: now, now, you perceaue (but too late) the plague of enuie. When the people did honour me and call me new Venus, thē you should haue wept, then you should haue sorrowed, as though I had béene then dead: For nowe I sée, and perceaue that I am come to this misery by the onely name of Venus, bring me, and (as fortune hath apoin­ted) place me on the toppe of the rocke, I greatly desire to ende my marriage, I greatly couette to sée my hus­bande, why doo I delay? why shoulde I refuse him that is appointed to destroy all the worlde? Thus ended she her woordes, & thrust her selfe emongst the people that followed: Then thei brought her to the apointed rocke of the highe hill, and set her thereon and so departed. The torches and lightes were put out with the teares of the people, and euery man gonne home: the misera­ble parentes welny consumed with sorrow, gaue them selues to euerlastinge darkenes.

Thus poore Psyches being left alone wepyng and tremblinge on the toppe of the rocke, was blowen by the gentle ayre and of shrillinge Zephyrus and carried from the hill, with a meke winde, whiche retained her [Page 46] garmentes vp, and by little & litle brought her downe into a déepe valley, where she was laide in a bedde of most sweete and fragrant flowres.

The fifth Booke of Lucius Apuleius

Thus fayre Psyches beinge swéetely couched e­mongst the softe and tender hearbes, as in a bedde of soote and fragrant flowres, and hauinge quallified the troubles and thoughtes of her restles minde, was now well reposed: And when she had refreshed her selfe suf­ficiently with sléepe, she rose with a more quiet and pa­cified minde, and fortuned to espie a pleasaunt woodde enuironned with great and mighty trées: she espied likewise a runninge riuer as cléere as Cristall: In the middest of the woodde, welnie at the fall of the riuer was a Princely edifice, wrought & builded, not by the arte or hande of mā, but by the mighty power of God: and you would iudge at the first entrie therein, that it weare some pleasaunt and woorthy mansion for the powers of heauen. For the embowinges aboue weare of Cytern, and Yuery, propped and vndermined with pillors of Golde, the walles couered and séeled with Siluer, diuers sortes of beastes weare grauē and car­ued, that séemed to encounter with such as entred in: al thinges weare so curiously and finely wrought, that it séemed either to be the worke of some demigod, or God him selfe, the pauement was al of pretious stone, deuided and cut one from an other, whereon was car­ued diuers kindes of pictures, in such sorte that blessed and thrise blessed weare they whiche might goe vpon such a pauement: Euery parte and angle of the house was so well adorned, that by reason of the pretious stones and inestimable treasure there, it glittered and shone in such sorte that the chambers, porches, & dores gaue light as it had bene the Sunne. Neyther other­wise [Page] did the other treasure of y house disagrée vnto so great a maiestie, that verely it séemed in euery point a heauēly palaice fabricate & builded for Iupiter him self.

Then Psyches moued with delectation, approched nighe, & takinge a bolde harte entred into the house, & behelde euery thing there, with great affectiō, she sawe storehouses wrought excéeding fine, & replenished with abondance of richesse. Finally there could nothinge be deuised which lacked there, but emōgst such great store of treasure, this was more meruelous, y there was no closure, bolte, or locke to kéepe y same. And when with great pleasure she viewed al these thinges, she harde a voice without any body, y saide: Why doo you maruell madame at so great richesse? behold al that you sée is at your cōmandement: wherfore, goe you into the chāber & repose your selfe vpon the bedde, & desire what bathe you will haue, and we whose voices you here be your seruauntes, and ready to minister vnto you accordinge to your desire: in the meane season, royall meates and deintie dishes shalbe prepared for you.

Then Psyches perceaued the felicitie of diuine pro­uidence, & according to the aduertisement of the incor­porall voices, she first reposed her selfe vpō the bedde, & thē refreshed her bodie in y e baines. This done she saw y table garnished with meates, & a chaire to sit downe.

When Psyches was set downe, al sortes of diuine meates and wines weare brought in, not by any body but as it weare with a winde, for she coulde sée no per­son before her, but onely here voices on euery side. Af­ter that al the seruices weare brought to the table, one came in and sange inuisibly, an other plaide on the harpe, but she sawe no man: The harmony of the in­strumentes did so greatly shrill in her eares, y (though [Page 47] there weare no manner of person) yet séemed she in the middest of a multitude of people.

All these pleasures finished: when night approched Psyches went to bedde: & when she was laide, that the swéete sléepe came vpon her, she greatly feared her vir­ginitie because she was alone: Thē came her vnknowē husbande and lay with her: and after y he had made a perfect consummation of the Mariage, he rose in the morninge before day & departed. Sone after came her inuisible seruantes, presenting to her such thinges as were necessary for her defloration, and thus she pas­sed foorth a great while: and (as it happeneth) y nouel­tie of the thinges by continuall custome did encrease her pleasure, but specially the sounde of the instru­mentes was a comfort vnto her being alone.

Duringe this time that Psyches was in this place of pleasures, her father & mother did nothinge but wéepe and lament, and her twoo sisters hearinge of her moste miserable fortune came with great dolor and sorrowe to comforte and speake with their parentes.

The night followinge Psyches husbande spake vnto her (for she might féele his eies, his handes & his eares) and saide, O my swéete spouse and dere wife, fortune doth menace vnto thée imminent perill and daunger, whereof I wishe thée greatly to beware: For knowe thou that thy sisters, thinkinge that thou arte dead, be greatly troubled, and are come to the mountaine by thy steppes, whose lamentations if thou fortune to heare, beware that thou doo in no wise either make an­sweare or looke vp towardes them. For if thou doo thou shalt purchase to me great sorrow, & to thy selfe vtter destruction. Psyches (hearinge her husbande) was con­tented to doo all thinges as he commaunded.

[Page] After that he was departed, & the night passed away, Psyches lamented & cried al y e day folowyng, thinkyng that now she was past all hope of comfort in that she was closed within the walles of a prison, depriued of humaine conuersation, and commaunded not to ayde or assist her sorowfull sisters, no nor once to sée them: Thus she passed all the day in wepinge, and wente to bedde at night without any refectiō of meate or baine.

Incontinently after, came her husbande, who (when he had embrased her swéetely) gan say: Is it thus that you performe your promise my swéete wife? what doo I finde here? passe you all the day and the night in we­pinge? & will you not cease in your husbandes armes? Goe too, doo what you wil, purchase your owne destru­ction, & when you finde it so, then remēber my woordes, and repent, but too late: Then she desired her husbande more and more, assuringe him that she should die, vn­lesse he woulde graunt that she might sée her sisters, whereby she might speake with them & comfort them, whereat at length he was contented, and moreouer he willed that she should giue them as much Golde and Iuelles as she would, but he gaue her a further charge, saying: beware that ye couet not (beinge moued by the pernicious counsel of your sisters) to sée the shape of my person, least by your curiositie you be depriued of so great and woorthy estate. Psyches beinge gladde here­with rendred vnto him most entier thankes, and said: Swéete husbande I had rather die then to be seperate from you: for whosoeuer you be, I loue and retaine you within my harte, as if you weare mine owne spi­rite or Cupide him selfe: but I pray you graunt this likewise, that you would commaunde your seruaunt Zephyrus to bringe my sisters downe into the valley, [Page 48] as he brought me, W [...]men cā do [...] most when they be in bedde. wherwithal she kissed him swéetely, and desired him gently to graunt her request, callinge him her spouse, her swéete harte, her ioye, & her solace, whereby she enforced him to agrée to her minde, and when morninge came he departed away.

After longe search made, the sisters of Psyches came vnto the hill where she was set on the rocke, and cried with a lowde voice, in suche sorte that the stones an­sweared againe: And when they called their sister by her name, that their lamentable cries came vnto her eares, she came foorth, and said: beholde, here is she for whome you wéepe, I pray you torment your selues no more, cease your wéeping: And by & by, she cōmaunded Zephyrus by the appointment of her husband to bring them downe: Neither did he delay, for with gentle blastes he retained them vp, and laide them softely in the valey: I am not able to expresse the often embra­singe, kissing, and gretyng, which was betwéene them thrée, all sorowes and teares were then laide aparte: Come in (ꝙ Psyches) into our house & refresh your af­flicted mindes with your sister. After this, she showed them the storehouses of treasure, she caused them to heare the voices whiche serued her, the bayne was rea­dy, the meates were brought in, & when they had eaten and filled them selues with diuine delicates, they con­ceaued great enuie within their hartes, and one of thē beinge very curious, did demaunde what her husbande was, of what state, & who was the Lorde of so pretious a house, but Psyches, remembringe the promise which she made to her husbande, feigned that he was a yonge man, of comely stature, with a flexen bearde, and had great delight in huntinge in the hilles and dales by: And least by her longe talke she should be founde to [Page] trippe or faile in her woordes, she filled their lappes with Golde, Siluer and Iewels, and commaūded Z [...] ­phirus to carry them away.

When they were brought vp to the mountaine, they toke their waies: [...]omewarde to their owne houses, and murmured with enuy that they bare against Psyches, sayinge: beholde cruell & contrary fortune, behold how we (borne all of one parent) haue diuers destinies, but especially we, y are y e elder twoo, be married to straūge husbandes, made as handemaidons, and as it were ba­nished from our countrie & fréendes, wheras our yōger sister hath so great abondaunce of treasure and gotten a God to her husbande, who hath no skill how to vse so great plenty of richesse: sawe you not sister what was in the house? what great store of Iewelles, what glit­teringe robes, what gemmes, what golde we trode on? That if she haue a husbande accordinge, as she af­firmeth, there is none that liueth this daye more hap­pie in all the worlde then she. And so it may come to passe that at length for the great affection and loue whiche he may beare vnto her, he may make her a Goddesse, for (by Hercules) suche was her counte­naunce, so she behaued her selfe, that (as a Goddesse) she had voyces to serue her, and the windes did obay her. Such taske vse gosseps when they meete to­gether. But I poore wretche haue firste married a hus­bande elder then my Father, more balde then a coote, more weake then a childe, and that locketh me vp all day in the house. Then sayde the other sister, and in faith I am married to a husbande that hath the gowte, twyfolde, crooked, not couragious in payinge my debt, I am sayne to rubbe, and mollifie his stonie fingers with diuers sortes of oyles, & to wrappe them in play­sters and salues, so that I soyle my white and deintie [Page 49] handes, with the corruption of filthy cloutes, not vsing my selfe like a wife, but more like a seruaunt: and you my sister séeme likewise to be in bondage, and serui­tude, wherefore I cannot abide to sée our yonger sister in suche great felicitie, sawe you not I pray, howe proudely and arrogantly she handled vs euen now? and how in vauntinge her selfe she vttered her pre­sumptuous minde, how she caste a litle Golde into our lappes, and (beyng werie of our company) commaun­ded that we should be borne and blowen away? verely I liue not nor am a woman, but I will depriue her of all her blisse: And if you my sister be so farre bente as I, lette vs consulte together, and not vtter our minde to any person, no nor yet to our parentes, nor tell that euer we sawe her. For it suffiseth that we haue séene her, whome it repenteth to haue séene: neither lette vs declare her good fortune to our Father, nor to any o­ther, since as they séeme not happy whose richesse are vnknowen: So shall she knowe, that she hath sisters (no abiectes) but more woorthier then she. But now lette vs goe home to our husbandes and poore houses, and when we are better instructed lette vs returne to suppresse her pryde: so this euill counsell pleased these twoo euill women, and they hidde the treasure whiche Psyches gaue them, and fare their heare, renewynge their false and forged teares. When their father and mother behelde them wéepe and lament still, they doubled their sorrowes, and griefes, but full of yre and farced with enuie they toke their voyage home­warde, deuisinge the slaughter and destruction of their sister.

In the meane season y husband of Psiches did warne her againe in the night with these woordes: Séest thou [Page] not (ꝙ he) what perill and daunger euill fortune doth threaten vnto thée, whereof if thou take not good héede, it will shortly come vpon thée: for the vnfaithfull har­lottes doo greatly endeuour to set their snares to catch thée, and their purpose is to make and perswade thée to beholde my face, which if thou once fortune to sée (as I haue often tolde) thou shalt sée no more: wherefore if these naughty hegges, armed with wicked mindes, doo chaunce to come againe (as I thinke no otherwise but that they will) take héede that thou talke not with them, but simply suffer them to speake what they will, howbeit if thou canst not restraine thy selfe, beware that thou haue no communication of thy husbande, nor answeare a woorde if they fortune to question of me, so will we encrease our stocke, and this yonge and tender childe, couched in this yonge and tender belly of thine, (if thou conceale my secreates) shal be made an immor­tall God, otherwise a mortall creature. Then Psyches was very gladde that she should bringe foorth a diuine babe, and very ioyfull in that she should be honored as a mother: So vseth yonge wiues to doo. She reckened & nombred carefully the daies and monethes that passed, and being neuer with childe before, did maruell greatly that in so small a time her belly should swell so bigge.

But those pestilent & wicked furies, breathinge out their serpentine poyson, toke shippinge to bringe their enterprise to passe. Then Psyches was warned againe by her husbande in this sorte: beholde the last day, the extreme case, and the enemies of thy bloud, hath armed them selues against vs, pitched their campes, set their hoste in a ray, & are marchinge towardes vs, for now thy twoo sisters haue drawen their swoordes, and are ready to flea thée: O with what force are we assayled [Page 50] this day, O swéete Psyches I pray thée to take pitie on thy selfe, of me, and deliuer thy husbande, and this in­sant within thy belly from so great daunger: And sée not, neither heare these cursed women, whiche are not woorthy to be called thy sisters, for their great hatred, and breache of sisterly amitie, for they will come (like Sirens) to the mountaine, and yelde out their piteous and lamentable cries: When Psyches had harde these woordes, she sighed sorowfully, and saide: O déere hus­bande, this longe time you haue had experience & triall of my faith, and boubt you not but that I will perseuer in the same, wherfore commaunde your winde Zephi­rus that he may doo, as he hath donne before, to the in­tent that where you haue charged me, not to beholde your venerable face, yet that I may comfort my selfe with the sight of my sisters. I pray you by these beauti­full heares, by these rounde chéekes, delicate & tender, by your pleasaunt whote brest, The childe ta­keth the shape of the Father. whose shape and face I shall learne at length by the childe in my belly, graunt the fruicte of my desire, refreshe your déere spouse Psy­ches with ioye, who is bounde and linked vnto you for euer, I litle estéeme to sée your visage and figure, litle doo I regarde the night & darknes thereof, for you are my onely light. Her husbande (beinge as it were en­chaunted with these woordes, and compelled by violēce of her often embrasinge, wiping away her teares with his heare) did yelde vnto his wife. And when morning came departed as he accustomed to doo.

Now her sisters arriued on lande, and neuer rested till they came to the rocke, without visitinge of their Father and mother, and leaped downe rashly from the hill them selues: Then Zephyrus accordinge to the di­uine commaundement brought them downe (though it [Page] were against his will) & laide them in the valley with­out any harme. By and by they went into the pallaice to their sister without leaue, & when they had eftsones embrased their pray, and thanked her (with flatteringe woordes) for the treasure whiche she gaue thē, thei said: O déere sister Psyches, know you that you are now no more a childe but a mother: O what great ioye beare you vnto vs in your belly? what a cōfort wil it be vnto all the house? how happy shall we be that shall sée this infant nourished emongst so great plentie of treasure? that if he be like his parentes, as it is necessarie he shoulde, there is no doubte but a newe Cupide shalbe borne: by this kinde of meanes they wente aboute to winne Psyches by litle and litle, but because they were weary with trauell, they satte them downe in chayres, and after that they had washed their bodies in baynes, they wente into a parler, where all kinde of meates were ready prepared, Psyches commaunded one to play with his Harpe, it was donne: Then, im­mediatly other sange, other tuned their instrumentes, but no person was séene, by whose swéete harmonie and modulation, the sisters of Psyches were greatly delighted.

Howbeit the wickednes of these cursed wemen was nothing suppressed by the swéete noyes of these instru­mentes, but they setled thē selues to woorke their trea­son against Psyches demaūding who was her husbād, and of what parentage: Then she (hauinge forgotten, by too much simplicitie, that, whiche she had spoken be­fore of her husband) inuented a new answeare, & saide that her husband was of a great prouince, a marchant, and a man of a midle age, hauing his bearde enterspar­sed with gray heares, which when she had said (because [Page 51] she would haue no further talke) she filled their lappes full of Golde and Siluer, and bid Zephyrus to beare them away.

In their retorne homeward thei murmured with thē selues sayinge, how say you sister to so apparaunt a lie of Psyches? For first she said that her husbande was a yonge man of florishinge yeares & had a flexen beard, and now she saith that it is halfe graye with age, what is he that in so shorte space can become so olde? you shall finde it no otherwise my sister, but that eyther this cursed queane hath inuented a great lie▪ or els that she neuer sawe the shape of her husbande: And if it be so that she neuer sawe him, then verely she is married to some God, The enuious person pine [...]h as others felicitie. and hath a yonge god in her belly, but if it be a deuine babe and fortune to come to the eares of my mother (as God forbidde it should) then may I goe & hange my selfe, wherefore let vs goe to our parents, and with forged lies let vs colour the matter.

After they were thus inflamed and had visited their parentes, they returned againe to the mountayne, and by the ayde of the winde Zephirus were carried downe into the valey, and after thei had strained their eye liddes to enforce them selues to wéepe, they called vnto Psyches in this sorte: Thou (ignorant of so great euill) thinkest thy selfe sure and happy, and sittest at home nothinge regardinge thy perill, where as we goe aboute thy affayres, and are carefull least any harme should happen vnto thée, for we are credibly informed, neither can we but vtter it vnto thée, that there is a great Serpent full of deadly poyson, with a rauenous and gapinge threate, that lieth with thée euery night, remember the oracle of Apollo, who pro­nounced that thou shouldest be married to a dyre and [Page] [...]erte Serpent, and many of the inhabitantes here by, and such as hunte about in the countrey, affirme that they sawe him yesternight returnynge from pasture and swimminge ouer the riuer, whereby they doo vn­doubtedly say that he will not pamper thée longe with delicate meates, but when the time of deliuerie shall approche, he will deuoure both thée & thy childe, wher­fore aduise thy selfe, whether thou wilt agrée vnto vs that are carefull for thy safetie, and so auoide the perill of death, and be contented to liue with thy sisters, or whether thou wilt remaine with the serpent, & in the ende to be swallowed into the gowlfe of his bodie. And if it be so, that thy solitary life, thy conuersation with voyces, this seruile and daungerous pleasure, and the loue of the Serpent doo more delight thée: say not but that we haue playde the partes of naturall sisters in warninge thée. Then the poore & simple miser Psyches was moued with the feare of so dreadfull woordes, and (being amased in her minde) did cleane forgette the ad­monitions of her husbande, & her owne promises made vnto him. And (throwyng her selfe headlonge into ex­treame misery) with a wane and sallow countenance, scantly vtteringe a thirde woorde, at length gan say in this sorte: O my most déere sisters I hartely thāke you for your great kindenes towardes me, and I am now verely perswaded that they whiche haue enformed you hereof, haue enformed you of nothinge but truth, for I neuer sawe the shape of my husbande, neither know I frō whence he came, onely I here his voyce in y e night, in so much that I haue an vncertaine husbande, & one that loueth not the light of the day, whiche causeth me to suspect that he is a beast as you affirme, moreouer I doo greatly feare to sée him, for he doth menace and [Page 52] threaten great euill vnto me, if I should goe about to spie, and beholde his shape, wherfore my louing sisters if you haue any holesome remedy for your sister in daunger, giue it now presently: Then they openinge the gates of their subtill mindes, did put away all pri­uie gile, & egged her forward in her feareful thoughts, perswadinge her to doo as they would haue her, wher­upon one of them began and said, because that we litle estéeme any perill or daunger to saue your life, we en­tende to show you the best way and meane as we may possibly doo: Take a sharpe raser and put it vnder the pillow of your bedde, and sée that you haue ready a pri­uie burninge lampe with oyle, hidde vnder some parte of the hanginge of the chamber, and (finely dissimuling the matter) when (accordinge to his custome) he cometh to bedde and sléepeth soundly, arise you secreatly, and with your bare féete goe and take your lampe, with the raser in your right hande, and with valiant force cutte of the head of the poysonous Serpent, wherin we will ayde and assist you: and when by the death of him, you shalbe made salue, we will marry you to some comely man. After they had thus inflamed the harte of their sister, (fearing least some daunger might happen vnto them by reason of their euill counsell,) they were car­ried by the winde Zephyrus to the toppe of the moun­taine, and so they ranne away, and toke shippinge.

When Psyches was lefte alone (sauing that she sée­med not to be alone, beinge stirred by so many furies) she was in a tossinge minde, like the waues of the sea, and although her wil was obstinate and resisted to put in execution the counsell of her sisters, yet she was in doubtfull and diuers opinions touching her calamitie, Sometime she would, sometime she would not, some­time [Page] she is bolde, sometime she feareth, sometime she mistrusteth, sometime she is moued, sometime she ha­teth the beast, sometime she loueth her husbande, but at length the night came, when as she made preparatiō for her wicked intent.

Sone after, her husbande came, & when he had kissed and embrased her, he fell a sléepe: Then Psyches (some­what féeble in body and minde, yet moued by crueltie of fate) receaued boldenes & brought forth the lampe, and toke the raser, so by her audacitie she chaunged her kinde, but when she toke the lampe and came to the bedde side, she sawe the most méeke, and swéetest beast of all beastes, euen fayre Cupide couched fayrely, at whose sighte the very lampe encreased his lighte for ioye, and the raser turned his edge. But when Psy­ches sawe so glorious a bodie, she greatly feared, and (amased in minde, with a pale countenaunce, all trem­blinge) fell on her knées, and thought to hide the raser, yea verely in her owne harte, whiche she had vndoub­tedly donne, had it not (through feare of so great an enterprise) fallen out of her hande. And when she sawe and behelde the beautie of his deuine visage, she was well recreated in her minde, she sawe his heares of Golde, that yéelded out a swéete sauour: his necke more white then milke, his purple chéekes, his heare hangynge comely behinde and before, the brightnes whereof did darken the light of the lampe, his tender plume feathers dispersed vpon his shoulders like shi­ninge flowers, and tremblinge hither and thither, and his other partes of his bodie so smothe and softe that it did not repent Venus to beare suche a childe: at the beddes féete lay his bowe, quiuer, and arrowes, that [...]e the weapōs of so great a God, which, when Psyches [Page 53] did curiously behold, and merueling at the weapons of her husband toke one of the arrowes out of the quiuer, and pricked her selfe withall, wherewith she was so grieuously wounded that the bloudde followed, and thereby of her owne accorde she added loue vpon loue, then more and more broylinge in the loue of Cupide, she embrased him and kissed him a thousand times fea­ringe the measure of his sléepe: but alas, while she was in this great ioye, whether it were for enuie, or for de­sire to touche this amiable bodie likewise, there fell out a droppe of burning oyle from the lampe vpō the right shoulder of the God. O rashe & bolde lampe the vile mi­nistery of loue, how darest thou be so bolde as to burne the God of al fire? when as he inuēted thée, to the intēt that al louers might with more ioye passe the nightes in pleasure. The God being burned in this sorte, & per­ceauinge that promise and faith was broken he flied a­way without vtteraunce of any woorde from the eies & hādes of his most vnhappy wife. But Psiches fortuned to catch him (as he was rising) by the right thighe, and helde him fast as he flewe aboue in the ayre, vntill such time, that (constrayned by werines) she lette goe and fell downe vpon the grounde: but Cupide followed her downe, and lighted vpon the toppe of a Cypresse trée, and angerly spake vnto her in this manner: O simple Psiches consider with thy selfe, how I (little regarding the cōmaundement of my mother, who willed me that thou shouldest be married to a man of base & miserable condition) did come my selfe from heauen to loue thée, & wounded mine owne bodie with my proper weapōs to haue thée to my spouse, and did I séeme a beast vnto thée, y thou shouldest goe about to cutte of my head w t a raser, who loued thée so wel? did not I alwaies giue thée [Page] in charge? did not I gentely will thée to beware? but those cursed ayders and counselours of thine, shalbe woorthely rewarded for their paines. The absent of louers is grea­test punishmet. As for thée, thou shalt be sufficiently punished by my absence: When he had spoken these woordes, he toke his dight into y ayre.

Then Psyches fell [...]atte on the grounde, & as longe as she might see her husband, she cast her eies after him into the ayre wepinge and lamentinge piteously, but when he was gonne out of her sight, she threw her self into the nerte running riuer, for the great anguish and dolor that she was in, for the lacke of her husband, how be it the water would not suffer her to be drowned, but toke pitie vpon her, in the honour of Cupide which ac­customed to broyle and burne the riuer, and so threwe her vpon the banke emongst the hearbes.

Then Pan the rustical God sitting on the riuer side, embrasinge and teachyng the Goddesse Canna to tune her songes and pipes, by whome were féedinge the yonge and tender goates, after that he perceaued Psy­ches in so sorowfull case, not ignorant (I know not by what meanes) of her miserable estate, endeuored to pa­cifie her in this sorte: Oh fayre mayde, I am a rustike & rude herdesman, howbeit (by reason of my olde age) ex­perte in many thinges, for as farre as I can learne by coniecture, whiche (according as wise men doo terme) is called diuination, I perceaue by your vncertaine gate, your pale hewe, your sobbinge sighes, and your watrie eies, that you are greatly in loue. Wherfore harken to me, and goe not about to slea your selfe, nor wéepe not at all, but rather addore and woorshippe the great God Cupide, and winne him vnto you by your gentle pro­mise of seruice. When the God of shepeherdes had spo­ken these woordes, she gaue no answeare but made re­uerence [Page 54] vnto him as to a God, and so departed.

After that Psyches had gonne a litle way, she fortu­ned (vnwares) to come to a Citie where the husbande of one of her sisters did dwel, which when Psyches did vnderstande, she caused that her sister had knowledge of her comming. And so they mette together, and after great embrasinge and salutation, the sister of Psyches demaunded the cause of her trauell thither: Marry (ꝙ she) doo not you remember the counsell that you gaue me, whereby you would, that I should kill the beast, who vnder colour of my husbande did lie with me eue­ry night? you shall vnderstande, y assone as I brought foorth the lampe to sée & beholde his shape, I perceaued that he was the sonne of Venus, euen Cupide him selfe that lay with me. Then I (beynge strōken with great pleasure, and desirous to embrase him) coulde not tho­roughly asswage my delight, but alas (by euil channce) the boylinge oyle of the lampe fortuned to fall on his shoulder, whiche caused him to awake, who (seinge me armed with fire and weapon) gan say. How darest thou be so bolde to doo so great a mischiefe? departe frō me, and take such thinges as thou diddest bringe: for I will haue thy sister (and named you) to my wife, & she shalbe placed in thy felicitie, and by and by he cōmaunded Ze­phyrus to carry me away frō the boundes of his house.

Psyches had scantly finished her tale, but her sister (perced with y pricke of carnall desire & wicked enuie) ranne home, & (feigninge to her husbande that she had harde woorde of the death of her parētes) toke shipping and came to the mountaine. And although there blewe a contrary winde, yet beinge brought in a vaine hope she cried, O Cupide take me a more woorthy wife, and thou Zephyrus beare downe thy mistris, & so she caste [Page] her selfe downe hedlonge from the mountaine, but she fell not into the valley neither aliue nor dead, for al the members & partes of her bodie were torne emongst the rockes, whereby she was made a pray vnto the birdes and wilde beastes, as she woorthely deserued.

Neither was the vengeaunce of the other delaide, for Psiches traueling in that coūtrey fortuned to come to an other Citie, where her other sister did dwell, to whome when she had declared all such thinges as she tolde to her firste sister, As euery vertue is rewarded, so euery vice is pu­nisshed. she ranne likewise vnto the rocke and was slaine in like sorte. Then Psiches traue­led about in the countrey to séeke her husband Cupide, but he was gotten into his mothers chāber, and there bewayled the sorowfull wounde, whiche he caught by the oyle of the burninge lampe.

Then the white birde the Gull whiche swimmeth on the waues of the water, flewe towardes the Oc­cean sea, where she founde Venus washinge and ba­thinge her selfe: to whome she declared that her sonne was burned and in daunger of death, and moreouer that it was a cōmon bruite in y mouth of euery person (who spake euill of all the family of Venus) that her sonne doth nothing but haunt harlots in y mountaine, and she her selfe, lasciuiously, vse to riotte on the sea, whereby they say y t they are now become no more gra­tious, no more pleasaunt, no more gentle, but inciuill, mōstruous & horrible: moreouer the marriages are not for any amitie, or for loue of procreatiō, but ful of enuy, discorde, & debate. This the curious Gull did clatter in the eares of Venus reprehēding her sonne. But Venus began to crie, and said: what hath my sonne gotten any loue? I pray thée (gentle birde y doest serue me so faith­fully) tel me what she is, & what is her name, that hath [Page 55] troubled my sonne in such sorte, whether she be any of the Nymphes, of the nomber of the Goddesses, of the cōpany of the Muses, or of the mistery of my Graces? To whome the birde answeared. Madame I know not what she is, but this I know, that she is called Psiches. Then Venus with indignatiō cried out: what is it she? the vsurper of my beautie, the viccar of my name? what did he thinke that I was a baude, by whose showe he fell acquainted with the mayde? And immediatly she departed, and went to her chamber, where she founde her sonne wounded as it was tolde vnto her, whome when she behelde she cried out in this sorte.

Is this an honest thinge? is this honorable to thy parentes? is this reason that thou hast violate and bro­ken the cōmaundement of thy mother and soueraigne mistris? And whereas thou shouldest haue vexed my enemie with lothsome loue, thou haste done contrary: For (beinge but of tender and vnripe yéeres) thou hast with too licentious appetite embrased my moste mor­tall foe, to whome I shalbe made a mother, and she a daughter: Thou presumest and thinkest (thou triflinge boye, thou verlette, and without all reuerence) that thou arte moste woorthy and excellent, and that I am not able by reason of mine age to haue an other sonne, which if I might haue, thou shouldest well vnderstand that I would beare a more woorthier then thou, but to woorke thée a greater despite, I doo determine to ad­opte one of my seruantes, & to giue him these winges, this fire, this bowe, and these arrowes, and all other furniture whiche I gaue to thée, not for this purpose, neyther is any thinge giuen thée of thy father for this intent: but firste thou hast béene euill brought vp, and instructed in thy youth: thou haste thy handes ready [Page] and sharpe: Thou hast often offended thy auncientes and especially me that am thy mother, thou hast perced me with thy dartes, thou contemnest me as a widow, neither doest thou regarde thy valiant and inuincible Father, and to anger me more thou arte amorous of wenches and harlottes, but I wil cause that thou shalt shortly repent thée, & that this marriage shalbe déerely bought. To what a pointe am I now driuē? what shall I doo? whither shall I goe? howe shall I represse this [...]easre? Shall I aske ayde of mine enemie Sobrietie, whome I haue often offended to engender thée? or shall I séeke for counsell of euery poore and rusticall womā? No, no, yet had I rather die, howbeit I will not cease my vengeance, to her must I haue recourse for helpe, & to none other, (I meane to Sobrietie) who may correct thée sharpely, take away thy quiuer, depriue thée of thy arrowes, vnbende thy bowe, quenche thy fire, & (which is more) subdew thy body with punishment, and when that I haue rased & cut of this thy heare, whiche I haue dressed with mine owne handes, and made to glitter like golde, and when I haue clipped thy winges which I my selfe haue caused to burgen, then shal I thinke to haue sufficiently reuenged my selfe vpon thée, for the iniurie which thou hast done: when she had spokē these woordes she departed in a great rage out of her chāber.

Iuno was daughter of Sa­turne and Opis sister and wife of Iupiter. Ceres other wife called [...]sis wife of Os [...]ris [...] of Egipte▪ she [...] supposed to be the Goddesse of Haruest. Immediatly, as she was goinge away, came Iuno & Ceres demaūdinge the cause of her anger: then Venus made answeare, verely you are come to comfort my so­row, but I pray you with all diligence to séeke out one whose name is Psyches, who is a vagabonde, and run­neth aboute the countries, and as I thinke you are not ignoraunt of the bruite of my sonne Cupide, and of his demeanure, which I am ashamed to declare: Then thei [Page 56] standing and knowing the whole matter, endeuoured to mitigate the ire of Venus in this sorte.

What is the cause madame, or how hath your sonne so offended that you should so greatly accuse his loue, & blame him by reason that he is amorous? And why should you séeke the death of hir, whom he doth fancy? We most humbly entreate you to pardon his faulte, if he haue accorded to the mynde of any maiden, what doo not you knowe that he is a yonge man? or haue you forgotten of what yéeres he is? doth he séeme alwayes vnto you to be a childe? you are his mother, and a kynd woman, will you continually searche out his daliance? will you blame his luxurie? will you bridle his loue? And will you reprehende your own arte and delightes in him? what God or man is he, that can endure that you should sowe or disperse your séede of loue in euery place, and to make a restraint therof within your own doores, certes you wil be the cause of the suppression of the publique places of yonge dames. In this sorte these Goddesses endeuoured to pacifie hir minde, and tercuse Cupide with all their power (although he weare ab­sent) for feare of his dartes and shaftes of loue. But Venus would in no wyse asswage hir heate, but (thin­king that they did rather trifle and taunte at her iniu­ries) she departed from them, and tooke her viage to­wardes the sea in all hast.

The sixth Booke of Lucius Apuleius

In the meane season Psyches hurled hir self hither and thither, to séeke for her husband, the rather because she thought, that if he would not be appeased with the swéete flatterie of his wyfe, yet he would take mercy vpon her at her seruile and continuall praiers. And (espiyng a Churche on the toppe of a high hill) she sayd, what can I tell whether my husbande and maister bée [Page] there or no? wherefore she went thither warde, & with great paine & trauell, moued by hope, after y she climed to the toppe of the mountaine, she came to the Tēple & went in, whereas, behold she espied shéefes of corne li­yng on a heape, blades writhed like garlādes, & réedes of barley, moreouer she sawe hookes, sithes, sickels and other instruments to reape, but euery thing lay out of order, & as it were caste in by the handes of labourers, which when Psiches sawe, she gathered vp & put euery thing dewly in order, thinking that she would not de­spise or contemne the Temples of any of the Gods, but rather get the fauour & beneuolence of them all, by & by Ceres came in, & beholding her busie and curious in her chappel, cried out a farre of, and said: O Psiches néede­ful of mercy, Venus searcheth for thée in euery place to reuenge her selfe & to punish thée greuously, but y haste more minde to be here, and carest for nothyng lesse, thē for thy safetie. Then Psiches fell on her knées before her, wateringe her féete with her teares, wipinge the ground with her heare, & with great wéeping & lamen­tation desired pardon, saiyng: O great & holy Goddesse I pray thée by thy plentuous & liberal right hād, by thy ioyfull ceremonies of haruest, by the secretes of thy sa­crafice, by the fliyng chariottes of thy Dragons, by the tillage of the groūd of Sicile, which thou hast inuēted, by the marriage of Proserpina, by y diligent inquisitiō of thy daughter, & by the other secretes which are with­in the tēple of Eleusis in the lande of Athēs, take pitie on me thy seruaunt Psiches, and let me hide my selfe a few dales emōgst these shéefes of corne vntill the yre of so great a Goddesse be past, or vntill that I be refreshed of my great labour & trauell. Then answeared Ceres: Verely, Psiches I am greatly moued by thy prayers & [Page 57] teares, & desire with all my harte to ayde thée, but if I should suffer thée to be hidden here, I should incurre the displeasure of my Cosin, with whome I haue made a treaty of peace, and an auncient promesse of amitie: wherefore I aduise thée to departe hense, and take it not in euell parte in that I will not suffer thée to abide and remaine within my Temple.

Then Psiches driuen away cōtrary to her hope, was double afflicted with sorrow, and so she returned backe againe: and behold, she perceaued a farre of in a valley a Temple standing within a forest, fayre and curiously wrought, and mindinge to ouerpasse no place, whither better hope did direct her, and to the intent she would desire the pardon of euery God, she approched nighe to the sacred doores, whereas she sawe pretious richesse & vestmentes igrauen with letters of gold, hanging vpō braunches of trées, and the postes of the Temple, testi­fiynge the name of the Goddesse Iuno, to whome they were dedicate, then she knéeled downe vpon her knées, and embrasinge the Aulter with her handes, and wi­pinge her teares gan pray in this sorte. O déere spouse and sister of the great God Iupiter, which arte adored among the great tēples of Samos, called vpō by wemē with childe, worshipped at high Carthage, because thou werest brought from heauen by the Lion, the riuers of the floud Inachus doo celebrate thée, & know y t thou arte the wife of the great God & the Goddesse of Goddesses: All the East part of the world hath thée in veneration, all the world calleth thée Lucina, I pray thée to be mine aduocate in my tribulatiōs, deliuer me from the great daunger which pursueth me, and saue me that am we [...] ried with so longe labours and sorrowe, for I knowe that it is thou that succourest and helpest suche w [...]men [Page] as are with childe and in daūger. Then Iuno hearinge the praiers of Psiches, appeared vnto her in al her roy­altie: saying: Certes Psiches I would gladly help thée, but I am ashamed to doo any thing contrary to the wil of my daughter in lawe Venus, whom alwaies I haue loued as mine owne childe, moreouer I shall incurre the daunger of the lawe intituled, De seruo corrupto, Whereby I am forbidden to retaine any seruaunt fu­gitiue against the will of his maister.

Then Psiches cast of likewise by Iuno, as without all hope of the recouery of her husbande, reasoned with her selfe in this sorte, now what comfort or remedie is lefte to my afflictions, when as my prayers will no­thinge auayle with the Goddesses? what shall I doo? whither shall I goe? In what caue or darkenes shall I hide my selfe to auoide the furor of Venus? why doo I not take a good harte, and offer my selfe with humilitie vnto her whose anger I haue wrought, what doo I know whether he (whome I séeke for) be in the house of his mother or no? Thus beyng in doubte, poore Psiches prepared her selfe to her owne daunger, & deuised how she might make her Orayson and prayer vnto Venus.

After that Venus was wery with searchinge by sea and lande for Psiches, she returned towarde heauen, & cōmaunded that one should prepare her chariot, which her husbād Vulcanus gaue vnto her by reason of mar­riage, so finely wrought that neither Golde nor filuer coulde be cōpared to the brightnes therof, fowre white pidgeons guided the chariot with great dilig [...]nce, and when Vlenus was entred in, a nomber of sparrowes flewe chirpinge about, makinge signe of ioye, and all other kinde of birdes sange swéetely foreshowynge the cōminge of the great Goddesse: the cloudes gaue place, [Page 58] the heauens opened, & receaued her ioyfully, the birdes that followed nothinge feared the Egles, Haukes, and other rauenous fowle in the ayre. Incontinently she went vnto the ryall Pallaice of the God Iupiter, and with a proude & bolde petition demaūded the seruice of Mercury in certaine of her affaires, wherunto Iupiter consented, then with much ioy she descended frō heauē with Mercurie, & gaue him an earnest charge to put in execution hir woordes, saying: O my brother, borne in Arcadia, thou knowest well that I (who am thy sister) did neuer enterprise to doo any thinge without thy pre­sence, thou knowest also how longe I haue sought for a girle and cannot finde her, wherefore there resteth no­thinge els saue that thou with thy trumpette doo pro­noūce the rewarde to suche as take hir, sée thou put in execution my commanndement, and declare that what so euer he be that retaineth her, wittingly, against my will shall not defend him selfe by any meane or excusa­tion: whiche when she had spoken, she deliuered vnto him a libell wherin was cōteined the name of Psiches and the reside we of his publication, which done she de­parted away to hir lodginge. By and by, Mercurius (not delaying y matter) proclaimed through out all the worlde, that what so euer he were that coulde tell any tidinges of a Kinges fugitiue daughter, the seruaunt of Venus, named Psiches, should bring woorde to Mer­curie, and for rewarde of his paynes he should receaue seuen swéete cosses of Venus. After that Mercury had pronounced these thinges, euery man was inflamed with desire to searche out Psiches.

This proclamation was the cause that put away all doubte from Psiches, who was scantly come in sight of the house of Venus, but one of her seruauntes called [Page] Custome came out, who espiyng Psiches, cried with a loude voice, sayinge: O wicked harlotte as thou arte, now at length thou shalt know that thou haste a mi­stris aboue thée, what doest thou make thy selfe igno­rant as though thou diddest not vnderstand what tra­uell we haue taken in searchinge for thée, I am gladde that thou arte come into my handes, thou arte now in the goulfe of Hell, & shalt abide the paine and punish­ment of thy great contumacie, and there withall she toke her by the heare, & brought her in before the pre­sence of Venus.

When Venus espied her, she began to laugh, & as an­gry persons accustome to doo, she shaked her head and scratched her right eare, saiyng: O goddesse, Goddesse, you are now come at lēgth to visit your mother, or els to sée your husband, that is in daunger of death by your meanes, be you assured I will handle you like a daugh­ter, where be my maydens Sorrow, and Sadnes? To whome (when they came) she deliuered Psiches to be cruelly tormented, then they fulfilled the cōmandemēt of their Misteris, and after they had piteoufly scourged her with whippes & roddes, they presented her againe before Venus. Thē she began to laugh againe, saiyng: Behold she thinketh (that by reason of her great belly which she hath gotten by playing the hoore) to moue me to pitie, and to make me a grandmother to her childe: Am not I happy, that in the flourishinge time of all mine age shalbe called a grādmother, and the sonne of a vile harlotte shalbe accōpted the Nephew of Venus? How be it I am a foole to terme him by the name of a sonne, since as the marriage was made betwéene vn­equall persons, in the fieldes, without witnesses, & not by the cōsent of their parentes, wherfore the marriage [Page 59] is illegitimate, and the childe (that shalbe borne) a ba­starde, if we fortune to suffer thée to liue so longe till thou be deliuered.

When Venus had spoken these woordes she leaped vpō the face of poore Psiches, and (tearing her apparell) toke her violently by the heare, & dashed her head vpon the ground. Then she tooke a great quātitie of wheate, barley, will, popy séede, peason, lintels, and beanes, and mingled them al together on a heape, saying: thou euill fauored girle, thou séemest vnable to gette the grace of thy louer, by no other meanes, but only by di­ligent & painefull seruice, wherfore I will proue what thou caust doo, sée that thou seperate all these graynes one from an other, disposinge thē orderly in their qua­litie, and lette it be done before night. When she had appointed this taske vnto Psiches, she departed to a great banquette that was prepared that day.

But Psiches went not about to disseuer the graine (as beinge a thinge impossible to be brought to passe by reason it lay so confusely scattered) but beinge astonied at the cruel cōmaundement of Venus, satte still & saide nothing: Then the litle Pismere the Emote, takings pitie of her great difficultie & labour, cursing the cruel­nes of the wyfe of Iupiter and of so euill a mother, ranne aboute hither and thither, and called to her all the Antes of the countrie, sayinge: I pray you my fréendes, ye quicke sonnes of the grounde the mother of al thinges, take mercie on this poore mayde espoused to Cupide, who is in great daunger of her person, I pray you helpe her withall diligence. Incōtinently one came after an other disseueryng & deuiding the graine, & after that they had put eche kinde of corne in order, they ranne away againe in all haste.

[Page] When night came, Venus retourned home from the banquet well tipled w t wyne, smelling of balme, & crowned with garlādes of Roses, who when she espied what Psyches had done, gan say, this is not the labour of thy hādes, but rather of his that is amorous of thée, then she gaue her a morsell of browne bread, and went to sleape.

In the meane season Cupide was closed fast in the moste surest chamber of the house, partly because he should not hurte him selfe with wanton dalliance, and partly because he should not speake with his loue, so these twoo louers weare deuided one from an other.

When night was passed, Venus called Psyches & sayde: séest thou yonder forest that extendeth out in lengthe with the ryuer, there be great shéepe shininge like golde, and kepte by no maner of persone, I com­maunde thée that thou go thither and bringe me home some of the wool of their fléeces. Psyches arose willing­ly, not to doo her commaundement, but to throwe her selfe hedlong into the water to ende her sorowe. Then a gréene réede inspired by deuine inspiration with a gracious tune and melodie gan say. O Psyches, I pray thée not to trouble or pollute my water by the death of thée, and yet beware that thou goe not towardes the terrible shéepe of this coast, vntill suche tyme as the heate of the Sunne be past, for when the Sunne is in his force, then séeme they most dreadfull, and furious, with their sharpe hornes, their stony forheads, & their gaping throtes wherwith thei arme them selues to the destruction of mankinde: but vntill the midday is past and the heate asswaged, and vntill they haue refreshed them selues in the ryuer, thou maist hyde thy selfe here by me vnder this great plane trée: and as sone as their [Page 60] great fury is past, thou maist go among the thickettes and bushes vnder the wood syde and gather the lockes of their golden fléeces, which thou shalt finde hāginge vpon the briers. Thus spake the gentle and beninge Réede, showinge a meane to Psyches to saue her life, whiche she bare well in memory, and with all diligēce went and gathered vp suche lockes as she founde & put them in her apron, and carried them home to Venus: how be it the daunger of this seconde labour did not please her, nor giue her sufficient witnesse of the good seruice of Psyches, but with a sower resemblaunce of laughter, she said: Of certaintie I knowe y this is not thy facte, but I will proue if thou be of so stoute a cou­rage, and singuler prudencie as thou séemest.

Then Venus spake vnto Psyches againe: saying, Séest thou the toppe of yonder great hill, from whense there ronneth downe water of blacke & deadly colour, whiche nourisheth the floodes of Stix and Cocitus, I charge thée to goe thither and bring me a vessell of that water: wherewithall she gaue her a bottell of Cristall, menacinge and threatening her rigorously.

Then poore Psyches went in all hast to the toppe of the mountaine, rather to ende hir life then to fetche a­ny water, and whē she was come vp to the ridge of the hill, she perceaued that it was impossible to bringe it to passe: For she sawe a great rocke gusshinge out moste horrible fountaines of waters, whiche ranne downe & fell by many stoppes and passages into the valley be­neath, on eche side she sawe great Dragons, stretching out their longe and blouddy neckes, that neuer slept, but apointed to kéepe the riuer there: the waters sée­med to thē selues likewise: saying, Away, away, what wilt thou doo? Fly, fly, or els thou wilt be slaine: then [Page] Psiches (séeing y impossibilitie of this affaire) stoode still as though she were trāsformed into a stone, & although she was present in body, yet was she absent in spirite and sense, by reason of the great perill which she sawe, in so much that she could not cōfort her selfe with we­ping, such was the present daunger that she was in.

But the royall bird of great Iupiter, the Egle, remē ­bring his old seruice, which he had done, whē as by the pricke of Cupide he brought vp the boy Ganimides to y e heauens, to be made the buttler of Iupiter, & mindinge to show the like seruice in the person of the wife of Cu­pide, came from the high house of the skies, & said vnto Psiches: O simple woman, without all experiēce, doest thou thinke to get or dippe vp any droppe of this dred­ful water? No, no, assure thy selfe thou arte neuer able to come nigh it, for the Goddes them selues doo greatly feare at the sight therof: what haue you not harde that it is a custome emonge men to sweare by the puissance of the Goddes: And the Goddes doo sweare by the Ma­iestie of the riuer Stix? but giue me thy bottle, and so­denly he toke it, and filled it with the water of the ri­uer, and takinge his flight thorough those cruell and horrible Dragons brought it vnto Psyches: who being very ioyfull thereof presented it to Venus, who would not yet be appeased, but menacinge more & more, said: what thou séemest vnto me a very Witche & Enchaun­teresse, that bringest these thinges to passe, how be it thou shalt doo one thinge more.

Take this bore & goe to hell to Proserpina, and desire her to sende me a litle of her beautie, as muche as will serue me the space of one day, and say that suche as I had is consumed away since my sonne fell sicke, but re­turne againe quickely, for I must dresse my self there­withal, [Page 61] withal, & goe to the threatre of the Gods, thē poore Psi­ches perceaued the ende of al her fortune, thinking ve­rely y she shoulde neuer returne, & not without cause, when as she was cōpelled to goe to the goulfe & furies of Hell. Wherfore without any further delay, she wēt vp to a high tower to throwe her selfe downe headlong (thinkinge that it was the nexte and rediest waye to Hell) but the towre (as inspired) spake vnto her, sai­ynge: O poore miser why goest thou about to slea thy selfe? why doest thou rashly yéelde vnto thy laste pe­rill and daunger? know thou that if thy spirite be once seperate from thy bodie, thou shalt surely goe to Hell, but neuer to returne againe, wherefore herken to me: Lacedemon a Citie of Grece is not farre hense: Goe thou thither and enquire for the hill Tenarus, where­as thou shalte finde a hole leadinge to Hell, euen to the pallaice of Pluto, but take héede that thou goe not with emptie handes to that place of darkenesse: but carry twoo soppes sodden in the flower of barley and hony in thy handes, & twoo halfpens in thy mouth, and when thou haste passed a good parte of that way, thou shalt sée a lame Asse carriyng of woodde, & a lame fellowe driuinge him, who will desire thée to giue him vp the stickes that fall downe, but passe thou on and doo nothinge, by and by thou shalt come vnto the riuer of Hell, whereas Charon is Ferriman, who will first haue his fare paide him, before he will carry the soules ouer the riuer in his boate, whereby you may sée that auarice raigneth emongst the dead, neyther Charon nor Pluto will doo any thinge for nought: For if it be a poore man that woulde passe ouer, and lacketh money he shalbe compelled to die in his iourney before they will showe him any reliefe, wherefore deliuer [Page] to carraine Charon one of the halfepens (whiche thou bearest) for thy passage, & lette him receaue it out of thy mouth. And it shall come to passe as thou sittest in the boate, thou shalte sée an olde man swimminge on the toppe of the riuer holdinge vp his deadly handes, and desiringe thée to receaue him into the barke, but haue no regarde to his piteous crie: when thou arte passed ouer the floudde thou shalt espie old women spinninge who will desire thée to helpe them, but beware thou doo not consent vnto them in any case, for these and like baites and trappes wil Venus sette, to make thée lette fall one of thy soppes: and thinke not that the kéepinge of thy soppes is a light matter, for if thou lese one of them thou shalt be assured neuer to retorne againe to this world. Then thou shalt sée a great and meruelous dogge with thrée heades barkinge continually at the soules of such as enter in, by reason he can doo them no other harme, he lieth day and night before the gate of Proserpina, and kéepeth the house of Pluto with great diligence, to whome if thou cast one of thy soppes, thou maist haue accesse to Proserpina without all daunger: she will make thée good chéere, and entertaine thée with delicate meate & drinke, but sitte thou vpon the ground and desire browne bread, and then declare thy message vnto her, and when thou hast receaued such beautie as she giueth, in thy retorne appease the rage of the dogge with thy other soppe, & giue thy other halfepeny to co­uetous Charon, and come the same way againe into the world as thou wentest: but aboue all thinges haue a regarde that thou looke not in the boxe, neither be not to curious about the treasure of the diuine beautie.

In this manner the towre spake vnto Psyches, and aduertised her what she should doo: and immediatly she [Page 62] tooke twoo halfpence, twoo soppes, and all thinges ne­cessary and went to the moūtaine Tenarus to goe to­wardes Hell.

After that Psiches had passed by the lam [...] Asse, paide her halfpenny for passage, neglected the old man in the riuer, denied to helpe the wemen spinninge, and filled the rauenous mouth of y dogge with a soppe, she came to the chamber of Proserpina. There Psyches would not sitte in any royall seate, nor eate any delicate meates, but kneelinge at the féete of Proserpina, onely contented with course bread, declared her message, and after she had receaued a misticall secrete in the boxe she departed, and stopped the mouth of the dogge with the other soppe, and paied the boteman the other halfpēny.

When Psyches was returned from hell, to the light of y worlde she was rauished with great desire, saying: Am not I a foole that knowinge that I carry here the diuine beautie, will not take a little thereof to garnish my face, to please my louer withall? and by and by she opened the boxe, where she coulde perceaue no beautie nor any thinge els, saue onely an infernall and deadly sléepe, whiche immediatly inuaded all her members as­sone as the boxe was vncouered, in such sort that she fel downe on the gronnde, & lay there as a sléepinge corps.

But Cupide beinge now healed of his wounde and maladie, not able to endure the absence of Psyches, gotte him secretely out at a windowe of the chamber where he was enclosed, and (receauinge his winges) toke his flight towardes his louinge wife, whome whē he had founde he wiped away the sléepe from her face, and put it againe into the boxe, and awaked her with the tippe of one of his arrowes, sayinge: O wretched [...]aytife, beholde thou wearest welny perished againe, [Page] with thy ouermuch curiositie, well, goe thou, & doo thy message to my mother, and in the meane season I will prouide for all thinges accordingly: wherewithall he toke his flight into the ayre, and Psiches brought her present to Venus.

Cupide being more and more in loue with Psiches, & fearing the displeasure of his mother, did perce into the heauens, & arriued before Iupiter to declare his cause: then Iupiter after that he had eftsones embrased him, gan say in this manner: O my welbeloued sonne, al­though thou hast not giuen due reuerēce & honour vn­to me as thou oughtest to doo, but hast rather soyled, & wounded this my brest (wherby the lawes and order of the elementes & planetes be disposed) with continuall assaultes of terren luxury & against al lawes, & the dis­cipline Iulia, & the vtilitie of y publique weale in trās­forming my diuine beautie into serpentes, fire, sauage beastes, birdes▪ & into bulles. Howbeit remēbringe my modestie, & that I haue nourished thee with mine owne proper handes. I wil doo & accōplish al thy desire, so that thou canst beware of spiteful & enuious persons. And if there be any excellent mayden of comely beautie in the world, remēber yet y benefite which I shall show vnto thée, by recompence of her loue towardes me againe. When he had spokē these woordes, he cōmaunded Mer­curie to call al the Goddes to counsell, and if any of the celestiall powers did fayle of appearance, he should be condemned in ten thousande poundes: which sentence was such a terrour vnto all the Goddes, that the high Theatre was replenished, & Iupiter began to speake in this sorte. O ye Goddes, registred in the bookes of the Muses, you all know this yonge man Cupide, whome I haue nourished with mine owne handes, whose ra­ginge [Page 63] flames of his first youth I thought best to bridle and restraine. It suffiseth in that he is diffamed in eue­ry place for his adulterous liuinge, wherefore all occa­sion ought to be taken away by meane of marriage: he hath chosen a mayden that fancieth him well, and hath beriued her of her virginitie, lette him haue her still and possesse her according to his owne pleasure: then he returned to Venus, and said: And you my daughter, take you no care, neither feare the dishonour of your progenie and estate, neither haue regarde in that it is a mortall marriage, for it séemeth vnto me, iuste, law­full and legitimate by the lawe Ciuill.

Incontinently after, Iupiter commaūded Mercurie to bring up Psiches the spouse of Cupide, into the pal­layce of heauen. And then he toke a potte of immorta­litie, and said: Holde Psyches and drinke to the ende thou maist be immortall, and that Cupide may be thine euerlastinge husbande.

By and by the great bankette and marriage feast was sumptuously prepared, Cupide satte downe with his déere spouse betwéene his armes: Iuno likewise w t Iupiter, and all the other Goddes in order, Ganimides filled the potte of Iupiter, and Bacchus serued the rest. Their drinke was Nectar the wine of the goddes, Vul­canus prepared supper, the howers decked vp the house with Roses & other swéete smelles, the Graces threwe about baulme, the Muses sange with swéete harmony, Apollo tuned pleasauntly to the Harpe, Venus daun­sed finely: Satirus and Paniscus plaide on their pipes: and thus Psiches was married to Cupide, and after she was deliuered of a childe, whom we call Pleasure.

This the trifling old woman declared vnto y captiue mayden, but I poore Asse, not stāding farre of was not [Page] a litle sory in that I lacked penne and Inke to write so woorthy a tale.

¶How Apuleius carried away the Gentlewoman, and how they were taken againe by the theeues, and what a kinde of death was inuented for them.

Cap. 23.

BY & by the Théeues came home laden with trea­sure, and many of them whiche were of strongest courage (leauinge behinde such as were lame and wounded, to heale & ayre them selues) saide they would returne backe againe to fetche the rest of their pillage, whiche they had hidden in a certaine caue, and so they snatched vp their dinner gréedely, & brought vs foorth into the way and beate vs before them with staues, about night (after that we had passed ouer many hilles and dales) we came to a great caue, where they laded vs with mighty burthens, and would not suffer vs to refreshe our selues any season, but brought vs againe in our way, and hied so fast homeward, that what with their haste and their cruel stripes, I fell downe vpon a stone by the high way side, then they beate me pitifully in lifting me vp, and hurt my right thighe and my left hoofe, and one of them said, what shall we doo with this lame euill fauoured Asse that is not woorth the meate y he eates? An other said: since the time that we had him first, he neuer did any good, & I thinke he came vnto our house with euill lucke, for we haue had great woundes since, & losse of our valiaunt Capitaines, an other saide assone as he hath brought home his burthē, I will sure­ly throwe him out vpon the mountaine to be a pray for wilde beastes: While these gentlemen reasoned toge­ther of my death, we fortuned to come home, for y feare [Page 64] that I was in, caused my féete to turne into winges: after that we weare discharged of our burthens, they went to their fellowes that lay wounded, & tolde them our great tarditie & slownes by the way, neither was I brought into small anguishe when as I perceaued my death prepared before my face, sayinge: Why standest thou still Lucius? why doest thou looke for thy death? knowst thou not that the théeues haue ordeined to slea thée? Séest thou not these sharpe and pointed flintes which shal bruise and teare thée in péeces if by aduēture thou happen vpon them, thy gentle Magicien hath not onely giuen thée the shape and trauell of an Asse, but also a skinne so softe and tender as it were a swallow, why doest thou not take courage & runne away to saue thy life? Arte thou affeard of the old woman, whiche is more then halfe dead, whome with a stripe of thy héele thou mayst easely dispatche? but whither shall I flie? what lodging shal I séeke? beholde my assy cogitation? who is he that passeth by the way and will not take me vp: while I deuised these thinges I brake the halter wherewith I was tied, and ranne away with all my force, he [...]beit I could not escape the kitishe eyes of the old woman, for she ranne after me, and with more au­dacitie then becometh her kinde and age, caught me by the halter and thought to pull me home: but I not for­gettinge the cruell purpose of the théeues, was moued with smal pitie, for I kicked her with my hinder héeles to the groūde and had welnie slaine her, who (although she was throwen & hurled downe) yet she helde still the halter and would not lette me goe, then she cried with a loude voice & called for succour, but she litle preuailed because there was no person that harde her, saue onely the captiue gentlewoman, who hearinge the voice of [Page] the old woman, came out to sée what the matter was, & (perceiuing hir hanging at the halter) tooke a good cou­rage and wrested it out of hir handes, and (entreatinge me with gentle woordes) gotte vpon my backe. Then I began to ronne, and she gently kicked me forwarde, whereof I was nothinge displeased, for I had as great a desier to escape as shée: In so muche that I séemed to scowre away like a horse. And when the gentlewoman did speake, I would answere hir with my neyinge, and oftentimes (vnder colour to rubbe my backe) I woulde swéetely kisse her tender féete. Then she, f [...]tchinge a sighe from the bottom of hir harte, lifted vp hir eies in­to the heauens, saiyng: O soueraigne Goddes deliuer me if it be your pleasure, from these present daungers: And thou cruell fortune cease thy wrath, let the sorow suffise thée whiche I haue already susteined. And thou litle Asse that art the occasion of my sauetie and liber­tée, if thou canst once rendre me salue and sounde to my parentes, and to him that so greatly desireth to haue me to his wyfe, thou shalt sée what thankes I wil geue thée, with what honour I will rewarde thée, and how I wil vse thée. First, I will brauely dresse the heares of thy sorehead, and then I wil finely kembe thy mane, I wyll tie vp thy rugged tayle trymly, I will decke thée rounde about with golden trappes, in suche sorte, that thou shalt glitter like the Starres of the skie, I will bringe thée dayly in my apron the kyrnelles of nuttes, and will pamper the vp with deintie delicates, I will sette stoore by thée, as by one that is the preser­uer of my lyfe: Finaly, thou shalt lacke no maner of thinge. Moreouer, amongest thy glorious fare, thy great ease, and the blisse of thy life thou shalt not bée destitute of dignitée, for thou shalt be Chronicled per­petually [Page 65] in memorie of my present fortune, and the prouidence diuine. All the whole historie shall be pain­ted vpon the wall of our house: Thou shalt be renow­ [...]ed throughout all the worlde: And it shalbe regi­stred in the bookes of Doctours, that an Asse saued the life of a yonge mayden that was captiue amongest Théeues: Thou shalt be nōbred amongest the auncient myracles: we beleue that by like example of truthe, Phryxus saued him selfe from drowning vpon a Ram, Arion escaped vpon a Dolphin: And that Europa was deliuered by a Bull. If Iupiter transformed him selfe into a Bull, why may it not be that vnder shape of this Asse, is hiddē y figure of a mā, or some power Deuine? Whyle that the Virgin did thus sorowfully vnfold hir desires, we fortuned to come to a place wheare thrée wayes did méete, and she tooke me by the halter and would haue me turne on the right hand to her fathers house, but I (knowing that the theues weare gone that waye to fetche the residue of their pillage) resisted with my head as much as I might, saiynge within my selfe, what wilt thou doo vnhappy maidē? why woldest thou go so willingly to hel? why wilt y u rūne into destructiō by meane of my féete? why doest thou séeke thine owne harme & mind likewise? And whyle we twoo striued to­gether whether way we might take, y theues returned loden with their praie, & perceiued vs a farre of by the light of y Moone: And after they had knowē vs, one of them gan say, whither go you so hastely? be you not a­ferde of spirites? And you (you harlot) doo you goe to sée your parentes? Come on, we will beare you company? And therwithall they tooke me by the halter and draue me back againe, beating me cruelly with a great staffe (that they had) full of knobbes: thē I (returning againe [Page] [...] [Page 65] [...] [Page] to my ready destruction, and remembring the griefe of my h [...]fe) be ganne to shake my head and to waxe lame, but he that ledde me by the halter said: what doest thou stomble? canst thou not goe? these rotten féete of thine can runne well mough, but they cannot walke, thou couldest minse it finely euen now with the gentlewo­man, that thou diddest séeme to passe the horse Pega­sus in swiftnes. In sayinge these woordes, they beate me againe that they brake a great staffe vpon me, and when we were come almost home, we saw the old wo­man hanginge vpon a bow of a Cypresse trée: then one of them cutte downe the bowe whereon she hanged, & cast her into the bottome of a great ditche: after this they boūd the maiden & fell greedely to their victuales, which the miserable old womā had prouided for them. At whiche time thei began to deuise with thē selues of our death, & how they might be reuenged, diuers was the opinions of this diuers nomber: the first saide that he thought best the mayde should be burned aliue: the secōde saide she should be throwen out to wilde beasts: the thirde said she should be hanged vpon a gibbot: the fourth saide she should be flead aliue: thus was y death of the poore mayden scāned betwéene them fower. But one of the Théeues after euery man had declared his iudgement did speake in this manner. It is not conue­niēt vnto the othe of our cōpany, to suffer you to waxe more cruell, thē the qualitie of the offence doth merite, for I would that she should not be hanged, nor burned, nor throwen to beastes, nor die any sodaine death, but by my counsell I would haue her punished accordinge to her deserte. You know wel what you haue determi­ned already of this dull Asse, that eateth more then he is woorth, that feigneth lamenesse, & that was the cause [Page 66] of the fliynge away of the mayde, my minde is that he shalbe slaine to morrow, and when all the guttes and entrailes of his body is takē out, let the maide be sowē into his belly, then let vs lay them vpon a great stone againste the broylinge heate of the sonne, so they shall both sustaine all the punishmentes which you haue or­deined: for first the Asse shalbe slaine as you haue deter­mined, and she, shall haue her membres torne & gnawē with wilde beastes, when as she is bitten & rente with wormes, she shal endure the paine of the fire, when as the broilyng heate of the sonne shall skorche and parche the belly of the Asse, she shall abide the gallowes when the Dogges and vultures shall haue the guttes of her body hanginge in their rauenous mouthes. I pray you nomber all the tormentes whiche she shall suffer: First she shall dwell within the paunch of the Asse: secondly her nosethrilles shall receaue the carraine stinke of the beaste: thirdly she shall die for hunger, laste of all she shall [...]nde no meane to ridde her selfe from her paines for her handes shalbe sowed vp within the skinne of the Asse: This beyng saide all the Théeues consented to the sentence, and when I (poore Asse) harde, & vnder­stoode all their deuise, I did nothinge els saue bewayle and lament my dead carkas, whiche should be handled in such sorte on the nexte morrow.

The seuenth Booke of Lucius Apuleius of the Golden Asse.

¶How he that was left behinde at Hippata to bring newes concerninge the robbery of Milos house, came home and de­clared to his compaignions that all the faulte was layde to one Apuleius charge.

Cap. 24.

ASsone as night was paste, and the cléere charriot of the sunne had spred his bright beames on euery coaste, came one of the companie of the Théeues (for so his & their greatinge together did declare) who at his first entrie into the caue (after he had breathed him selfe, & was able to speake) tolde these ti­dinges vnto his compaignions in this sorte. Sirs, as touching the house of Milo of Hippata, which we forci­bly entred & ransakt the last day, we may put away all feare, & doubte nothinge at all, for after y ye by force & armes had spoiled & taken away al things in the house, and so returned hither vnto our caue, The vse of cutte purses now a daies. I (thrustinge in emongst the prease of the people & showing my selfe as though I were sadde & forowful for the mischaunce) cō ­sulted with them for the boultinge out of the matter, & deuised what meanes might be wrought for the appre­hensiō of the théeues, to the intent I might learne & sée all that was done to make relation therof vnto you as you willed me, in so much that the whole fact at length by manifest & euident proofes as also by the cōmon opi­nion & iudgemēt of al the people, was layde to one Lu­cius Apuleius charge, vvho was now [...] Asse. as manifest author of this cōmit­ted robbery, who a few daies before by false and forged [Page 67] letters & coloured honestie, Surmises of the common people. fell so farre in fauour with this Milo that he entertained him into his house, & re­ceyued him as chiefe of his familiar friēdes, which Lu­cius, after that he had soiourned there a good space, and wonne the hart of Miloes maide by feigned loue, did thoroughly learne y waies and doores of all the house, & curiously viewed the cofers & chestes▪ wherin was laide the whole substance of Milo, neither was there small cause giuē to iudge him culpable, since as the very same night that this robbery was done he fledde away, and could be found in no place, & to thintēt he might cleane escape, and better preuent such as made hewe and crie after him, His white horse was likewise taken away by the Theeues. he toke his white horse & gallopped away, & after this his seruaūt was found in the house, who (ac­cused as accessary to the felony & escape of his maister) was cōmitted to the cōmon gaole, & the next day folow­yng was cruelly scourged & tormented til he was wel­nie dead to the intent he should cōfesse the matter, but when they could wrest or learne no such thinge of him, yet sente they many persons after towardes Lucius countrey to enquire him out, & so to take him prisoner.

As he declared these thinges, The Asse spea­keth. I did greatly lament with my selfe to thinke of mine old and pristine estate, and what felicitie I was sometimes in, in cōparison to the misery that I presently sustained, beyng chaunged into a miserable Asse, then had I no small occasiō to re­member, how the olde & auncient writers did seigne & affirme, that fortune was starke blinde & without eies, because she alwaies bestoweth her richesse vpon rus [...] persons and fooles, God sēdes fooles fortune. and chooseth or fauoreth no mortall person by iudgement but is alwaies conuersant espe­cially with suche as if she coulde sée, she shoulde moste shunne & forsake, yea and that which is more worse she [Page] soweth suche euill or rather contrary opinions in men, that the wicked doo glory with the name of good, and contrary the good and innocent be detracted and sclaū ­dered as euill. Furthermore I, who by hir great cru­eltie was turned into a fower footed Asse, is most vile and abiect manner, yea and whose estate séemed woor­thely to be lamented and pitied of the most harde & sto­nie hartes, was accused of theft & robbinge of my déere Oste Milo, which villanie might rather be called pari­cide then thefte, yet might not I defende mine owne cause, or denie the facte any waie, by reason I coulde not speake howbeit least my conscience should séeme to accuse me by reason of silence, and againe being enfor­ced by impacience I endeuered to speake, & faine would haue said: Neuer did I that facte. And verely the firste woorde, Neuer▪ I cried out once or twise somwhat hād­somely, but the residew I could in no wise pronounce, but still remayning in one voice cried Neuer, Neuer, Neuer: Howbeit I setled my hangyng lippes as roūde as I could to speake the residew: but why should I fur­ther complaine of the crueltie of my fortune, since as I was not muche ashamed, by reason that my seruaunt & my horse was likewise accused with me of the robbery. While I pondred with my selfe all these thinges, a greater care came to my remembraunce, touchinge the death which the Théeues deuised for me & the mayden, and stil as I looked downe to my belly, I thought of the poore Gentlewoman that shoulde be closed within me: and the théefe which a litle before had brought the false newes against me, drewe out of the skirte of his coate a thousande crownes, whiche he had rifled away from such as he mette, and cast it into the common treasory. Then he carefully enquired how the residew of his cō ­paignions [Page 68] did. As Trasileon Lamathus &c. To whom it was declared that the most valiant was murdred and slaine in diuers manners, whereupon he perswaded them to remitte all their af­fayres a certaine season, and to seke for other fellowes to bée in their places, that by the exercise of newe laddes the terror of their martiall bande might be re­duced to the olde number, assuringe them that suche as were vnwillinge might be compelled by menaces and threatninges, and such as weare willing might be en­couraged forward with rewarde, further he saide, that there were some, whiche (seinge the profite which they had) would forsake their base and seruill estate, and ra­ther be contented to liue like tirantes emongst them: moreouer he declared, that for his parte he had spoken with a certaine tale man, a valiant cōpaignion, but of yōge age, stoute in bodie, & couragious in fight, whom he had fully perswaded to exercise his idle handes, dull with slouthfulnes, to his greater profite, and (while he might) to receaue the blisse of better fortune, and not to holde out his sturdy arme to begge for a penny, but ra­ther to take as muche golde & siluer as he would. Then euery one consented, that he that séemed so woorthy to be their compaigniō, should be one of their cōpany and that they would search for others to make vp the resi­dew of the nomber, wherupon he went out, and by and by (returninge againe) brought in a tale yonge man (as This yonge man was [...]ep [...]lemus the yonge may­dens spouse. he promised) to whom none of the residew might be cō ­pared, for he was higher then they by the head, and of more bignes in bodie, his bearde began to burgen, but he was poorely appareled, in so much that you might sée all his belly naked: As sone as he was entred in, he sayd, God spéede ye souldiars of Mars, and my faith­full compaignions, I pray you make me one of your [Page] bande, A pre [...]y deceiple of Lepolemus. and I will ensure you that you shall haue a man of singular courage and liuely audacitie, for I had ra­ther receaue strypes vppon my backe, then money or golde in my handes: and as for death (whiche euery man doo feare) I passe nothyng at all, yet thinke you not that I am an abiect or a begger, neyther iudge you my vertue and prowesse by my ragged clothes, for I haue béene a Capitaine of a great company, and sub­dued all the countrey of Macedonie: I am the renou­med théefe Hemus the Thracien, whose name all coun­tries and nations doo so greatly feare: I am the soone of Theron the notable théefe, nourished with humaine bloudde, entertained emongst the stoutest: finally I am inheritour and follower of my Fathers, vertues, yet I lost in a shorte time all my company, and all my richesse by one assault, whiche I made vpon a factor of the Prince, whiche sometime had bene Capitayne of twoo hundred men, for fortune was cleane against me: herken and I will tell you the whole matter. A forged lie. There was a certayne manne in the courte of the Emperour whiche had many offices, and in great fauour, who at last by the enuie of diuers persons was banished away and compelled to forsake the courte: his wife Platina, a woman of rare faithe and singuler shamefastnes, ha­uinge borne tenne children to her husbande, despised al worldly pompe and delicacie, & determined to follow her husbande, and to be a partaker of all his perils and daunger, wherefore the cut of her heare, disguised her selfe like a man, & toke with her al her treasure, passing thorough the handes of the souldiours and the naked swordes without any feare, wherby she endured many miseries, and was partaker of muche affliction to saue the life of her husbande, such was her loue whiche she [Page 69] bare vnto him. And when they had escaped many peri­lous daungers aswell by lande as by sea they went to wardes Zacynthe to continue there accordinge as for­tune had appointed: But when they arriued on the sea coste of Actiū (where we in our returne frō Macedonie were rouinge about) when night came they turned in­to a house, not farre distant from their shippe where they lay all night. Then we entred in & toke away all their substance, but verely we were in great daunger, for the good Matron perceyuinge vs incontinently by the notes of the gate, went into the chamber, and cal­led vp euery man by his name, and likewise the neigh­bours that dwelled rounde about, in so much y by rea­son of the feare thar euery one was in, we hardly esca­ped away, but this most holy womā, faithfull and true to her husband (as the truth must be declared) returned to Caesar desiringe his ayde and puisance, and demaun­dinge vengeaunce of the iniurie done to her husbande, who graunted all her desire: then wente my company to wracke in so muche that euery man was slayne, so great was the authoritie and woorde of the Prince. How be it when all my bande was loste and taken by searche of the Emperours armie, I onely stole away and deliuered my selfe from the violence of the soul­diars, for I clothed my selfe in a womans attyre, and mounted vpon an Asse that carried barley shéefes, and (passinge thorough the middle of them all) I escaped away, because euery one déemed that I was a woman, by reason I lacked a bearde. How be it I lefte not of for all this, nor did degenerate from the glory of my father, or mine owne vertue, but freshly cōming from the blouddy skirmish, and disguised like a woman I in­uaded Townes and Castels alone to gette some pray. [Page] And therwithall he pulled out twoo thousand crownes whiche he had vnder his coate, sayinge: Holde here the dowrie whiche I present vnto you, holde eke my per­son whiche you shall alwaies finde trusty and faithfull if you will willingly receaue me: And I will ensure you that in so doinge, within shorte space I will make and turne this stony house of yours into Golde: then by and by euery one consented to make him their Ca­pitaine, and so they gaue him better garmentes and threwe away his olde. When he had chaunged his at­tyre he embraced them one after an other, then placed they him in the highest rome of the table, and dranke vnto him in token of good lucke.

¶How the death of the Asse, and the Gentel woman was staide,

Cap. 25.

AFter supper they beganne to talke, Apuleius spea­keth. and declared vnto him the goinge away of the gentlewoman, and how I bare her vpō my backe, & what death was ordeyned for vs twoo. Then he desired to sée her▪ whereupon the Gentlewoman was brought foorth fast bounde, whom assone as he beheld, he turned him selfe wringinge his nose & blamed them, saying: I am not so much a beast or so rashe a fellow, A prety wyle to saue his wife. y I would driue you quight from your purpose, but my conscience will not suffer me to conceale any thinge that toucheth your profite, since as I am carefull for you, how be it if my counsell doo displease you, you may at your owne li­bertie procéede in your enterprise. I doubte not but all Théeues, and suche as haue a good iudgement, will preferre their owne lucre & gaine aboue all thinges in the worlde, & aboue their vengeance, which purchaseth [Page 70] damage to diuers persons. Therefore if you put this Virgin in the Asses belly, you shal but execute your in­dignation against hir without all maner of profite: but I woulde aduise you to carie the Virgin to some towne & to sel her. And such a braue girle as she is, may be solde for a great quantitie of money: And I my selfe know certaine bawde Marchaūtes, amongest whome, peraduenture some one will giue-vs great summes of golde for her. This is my opinion touchinge this af­faire: But aduise you what you intende to doo, for you may rule me in this case. In this maner the good thefe pleaded and defended our cause, being a good patron to the séely Virgin, and to me poore Asse. But they staide hereupon a good space with longe deliberation, whiche made my harte (God wote) and spirit greatly to quale. Howebeit, in the ende they consented to his opinion, and by and by, the mayden was vnlosed of hir bondes, who seinge the yonge man, and hearinge the name of brothels and bawde Marchauntes, began to waxe ioy­full, and smiled with her selfe. Then began I to déeme euill of the generation of women, when as I sawe the maiden (who was appointed to be maried to a yonge gentleman, and who so greatly desired the same) was nowe delighted with the talke of a wicked and filthy brothel house, and other thinges dishonest. In this sort the consent and maners of wemen depēded in the iud­gement of an Asse.

¶Howe all the Theues weare brought in a sleape by their newe companion.

Cap. 26.

THen the yonge man spake againe, saiynge: Mai­sters, why go we not about to make our praiers [Page] to Mars touching this sellinge of the maiden, [...]ere Lepolem [...] draweth to his purpose. and to sake for other compaigniōs. But as farre as I sée here is no maner of beaste to make sacrifice withall, nor wyne sufficient for vs to drinke. Let me haue (ꝙ he) tenne more with me, and we wil goe to the next castel, to prouide for meate and other thinges necessarie. So he and tenne more with him, went their waie: In the meane season the residue made a great fire, and an al­tar with grene tirfes, in the honour of Mars. By and by after they came againe, bringing with them bottels of wyne, and a great nomber of beastes, amongest whiche there was a bigge Ram goate, fatte, olde, and hearie, whiche they killed and offered vnto Mars. Thē supper was prepared sumptuouslie: And the new com­paignion saide vnto the other. You ought to accompte me not onelie your Captaine in robberie and fight, but also in your pleasures and iolitie, wherupon by and by with pleasaūt there he prepared meate, & trimming vp the house, he set all thinges in order, & brought the po­tage & dentie dishes to the table: But aboue all he plied them well with great pottes, & iugges of wine. Some­times (séeming to fetche somwhat) he would goe to the maiden and giue her pieces of meate, whiche he priuely tooke awaie, and would drinke vnto hir, whiche she wil­lingly tooke in good parte. Moreouer he kissed her twise or thrise, wherof she was well pleased, but I (not well contented thereat) thought in my selfe: O wretched maide, Apuleius spea­keth. thou hast forgotten thy mariage, & doest esteme this straunger and bloudy théefe aboue thy husbande, which thy parentes ordeined for thée, nowe perceiue I wel thou hast no remorse of cōscience, but more delight to tarie & plaie the harlot here amongst so manie wea­pons and swoordes, what knowest thou not howe the [Page 71] other Theeues if they knew thy demeanure would put thée to death as they had once apointed, & so worke my destruction likewise? well now I perceaue thou haste a pleasure in the damage and hurt of other. While I did angerly deuise with my selfe all these thinges, I per­ceaued by certaine signes and tokens (not ignorant to so wise an Asse) that he was not the notable théefe He­mus, but rather Lepolemus her husbād, The iudgement of an Asse. for after much communication he began to speake more frankely, not fearinge at all my presence, and saide: be of good chéere my swéete fréende Charites, for thou shalt haue by and by all these thy enemies captiue vnto thée. Then he fil­led wine to the théeues more, and more, and neuer cea­sed till as they weare all ouercome with aboundance of meate and drinke, when as he him selfe absteyned and bridled his owne appetite: and truely, I did great­ly suspect, least he had mingled in their cuppes some deadly poyson, for incontinently they all fell downe a sléepe on the grounde one after an other, and laye as though they had bene dead.

¶How the Gentlewoman was carried home by her husband while the Theeues were asleepe, and howe muche Apu­leius was made of.

Cap. 27.

WHen the Théeues were all a sléepe by their great and immoderate drinkynge, the yonge man Lepolemus toke the maiden & set hir vpō my backe and wente homeward, when we were come home, all the people of the Citie (especially her parētes, fréendes & familie) came rūning foorth ioyfully, & al the children & maidens of y towne, gathered together to sée this virgin in great triūph sittyng vpō an Asse. Thē I [Page] (willinge to show as much ioye as I might as present A prety iest of an Asse. occasion serued) I set and pricked vp my longe eares, I ratled my nosethrilles, and cried stoutly, nay rather I made the towne to ringe againe w t my shrilling sound▪ when we were come to her fathers house, she was re­ceaued into a chamber honorably: as for me, Lepole­mus (accompaigned with a great nomber of Citizins) did driue me backe againe with other horses to y caue of the Théeues, where we found them all a sléepe liyng on the ground as we left them, then they first brought out al the golde, siluer, and other treasure of the house, and laded vs withall, whiche when they had done, they threwe many of the théeues downe into the bottome of déepe ditches, and the residew they slewe with their swoordes: after this we returned home gladde & merry of so great vengeance vpō them, and the richesse which we carried was committed to the publique Treasory: This done, the maide was married to Lepolemus, ac­cordyng to the lawe, whome by so much trauell he had valiātly recouered: Then my good mistris looked about for me, & askinge for me cōmaunded the very same day of her marriage, that my maūger should be filled with barley, and that I should haue hay & Otes abundantly, & she would call me her litle Camell. But how greatly did I curse Fotis in that she transformed me into an Asse, and not into a Dogge, because I sawe the dogges had filled their paunches with the relickes and bones of so woorthy a supper, the nexte day this newe wedded woman (my mistris) did greatly commende me before her parentes and husbande, for the kindenes whiche I had showed vnto her, and neuer leued of vntill suche time as they promised to rewarde me with great ho­nors, then they called together al their fréendes, & thus [Page 72] it was so concluded, one said that I should be closed in a stable and neuer woorke but continually to be fedde and fatted with fine and chosen barley and beanes, & good littor, how be it an other preuayled, who wishing my libertie perswaded them that it was better for me to runne in the fieldes emongst the lasciuious horses and mares, whereby I might engender some mules for my mistris, This pleased the Asse. then he that kept the horse was called for, and I was deliuered vnto him with great care, in so muche that I was right pleasaunt and ioyous, because I hoped that I shoulde carry no more fardels or bur­thens, moreouer I thought that when I should thus be at libertie, in the springe time of the yeare when the medowes and fieldes were gréene, I should finde some Roses in some place, whereby I was fully perswaded that if my maister and mistris did render to me so ma­ny thankes and honours beynge an Asse, they would much more rewarde me beynge turned into a man: but when he (to whome the charge of me was so straightly cōmitted) had brought me a good way distant from the Citie, I perceaued no delicate meates nor no libertie which I should haue, Vnhappy is he that hath an ill mistris. but by and by his couetous wife and most cursed queane made me a mill Asse, and (bea­tinge me with a kidgell full of knottes) would wringe bredde for her self and her household out of my skinne, yet was she not contented to wery me and make me a drudge with carriage and grinding of her owne corne, but I was hired of her neyghbours to beare their sackes likewise, how be if she would not giue me suche meate as I shoulde haue, nor sufficient to sustaine my life withall, for the barley whiche I grounde for mine owne dinner she would fell to the inhabitātes by. And after that I had laboured all day, she would set before [Page] me at night a litle filthy branne, Such scrapinge dames be many now a daies. nothinge cleane but full of stones. Beynge in this calamitie yet fortune worked me other tormentes, for on a day I was lette loose into the f [...]ldes to pasture by the commaūdement of my maister, O how I leaped for ioye, how I neyed to see my selfe in such libertie, b [...]t especially since I be­helde so many mares, whiche I thought should be my wiues and concubines, and I espied out and choose the fayrest before I came nighe them, but this my ioyfull hope turned into vtter destruction, Pleasure often­times turneth to paine. for incontinently all the stone Horses whiche were well fedde and made stronge by ease of pasture, and thereby muche more puissant then a poore Asse, were Ielous ouer me, and (hauinge no regarde to the lawe and order of the God Iupiter) ranne fiersely and terribly againste me, one lifted vp his fore féete and kicked me spitefully, an o­ther turned him selfe and with his hinder héeles spur­ned me cruelly, the thirde threatninge with a maliti­ous neyinge dressed his eares and shewyng his sharpe and white téeth bitte me on euery side. In like sorte haue I redde in Histories howe the Kinge of Thrace, The Asse hath redde Histories. would throwe his miserable geste to be torne in péeces and deuoured of his wilde horses, so niggishe was that Tyraūt of his prouender that he nourished them with the bodies of men.

¶How Apuleius was made a common Asse to fetche home woodde, and how he was handled by a boye.

Cap. 28.

AFter that I was thus handled by the Horses, I was brought home againe to the mille, but be­holde, fortune (insatiable of my tormentes) had deuised a new paine for me, I was appointed to bringe [Page 73] home woodde euery day frō a high hill, and who should driue me thither and home againe, but a boy that was the veriest hangeman in all the worlde, who was not contēted with the great trauell that I toke in climinge vp the hill, neither pleased when he sawe my hoofes torne and worne away by sharpe flintes, but he beate me cruelly with a great staffe, One sorrowe that the b [...]ye wrought to A­puleius. in so much that the mary of my boanes did ake for woo, for he woulde strike me continually on my right hippe and still in one place, whereby he tare my skinne and made of my wide sore a great hole or trench, or rather a windowe to looke out at, and although it ranne downe of bloud, yet would he not cease beatinge me in that place, moreouer he la­ded me with such great trusses and burthens of woodde that you would thinke they had bene rather prepared for Olyphantes then for me, and when he perceaued that my woodde hanged more of one side then an other (when he shoulde rather take away the heauy shides, and so ease me or els lifte them vp to make them equall with the other) he layde great stones vpon the weaker side to remedie the matter, yet coulde he not be con­tented with this my greate miserie and immoderate burthens of woodde, but when we came to any riuer (as their weare many by the way) he to saue his féete from water woulde leape vpon my loynes likewise, whiche was no small lode vpon lode. And if by ad­uenture I had fell downe in any dirtie or myry place, when he should haue pulled me out, either with ropes, or lifted me vp by the tayle, he woulde neuer healpe me, but layde me on from toppe to toe with a mighty staffe, till he had lefte no heare on all my bodie, no not so muche as on mine eares, whereby I was com­pelled by force of the blowes to stande vp.

[Page] The same hangeman boye did inuent an other tor­ment for me, he gathered a great many sharpe thornes as sharpe as néedels, and bounde them together like a faggot and tied them at my taile to pricke me, then was I afflicted on euery side, for if I had endeuored to runne away the thornes would haue pricked me, if I had stoode still the boye would haue beaten me, and yet the boye beate me to make me runne, whereby I per­ceaued that the hangeman did deuise nothinge els saue to kill me by some manner of meanes, and he woulde sweare and threaten to doo me worse harme, and be­cause he might haue some occasion to execute his ma­licious minde, vpon a day (after that I had endeuored to much by my pacience) I lifte vp my héeles and spur­ned him welfauoredly. Then he inuented this ven­geance against me, after that he had well laded me with shrubbes and rubbell and trussed it rounde vpon my backe, he brought me out into the way: then he stale a burninge coale out of a mans house of the nexte village and put it into the middle of the rubbell, the rubbell and shrubbes beinge very drie, did fall on a light fire and burned me on euery side. I coulde sée no remedie how I might saue my selfe, and in suche a case it was not beste for me to stande still: but fortune was fauorable towardes me, perhaps to reserue me for more daungers, for I espied a great hole full of rayne water that fell the day before, thither I ranne haste­ly and plunged my selfe therein, in suche sorte that I quenched the fire and was deliuered from that present perill, but the vile boye to excuse him selfe declared to all the neyghbours and sheapeherdes aboute that I willingly tombled in the flere as I passed through the villages. Then he laughed vpon me saiynge: Howe [Page 74] longe shall we nourishe and keepe this fyry Asse in vaine.

¶Howe Apuleius was accused of lecherie by the Boie.

Cap. 29.

A Fewe daies after, this Boie inuented an other mischiefe: For whē he had solde al y wood, which I bare, to certain men dwelling in a village by, he led me homeward vnladen: And then he cried that he was not able to rule me, & that he woulde not driue me any lenger to the hill for woodde, saiyng: doo you sée this slowe and dull Asse, who besides all the mischiefes that he hath wrought alreadie, inuenteth dailie more & more. For when he espieth any woman passing by the waie, whether she be olde or maried, or if it be a yonge childe, he will throwe his burthen from his backe and ronneth fiersly vpon thē. And after y t he hath throwen them downe, he will stride ouer them to committe his buggery and beastlie pleasure, moreouer he will faine as though he would kisse them, but he will byte their faces cruellie, whiche thinge may woorke vs great dis­pleasure, or rather be imputed vnto vs as a crime: and euen now when he espied an honest maiden passing by the highe waie, he by and by threwe downe his woodde & ranne after her: And when he had throwen her vpon the ground, he would haue rauished her before the face of all the worlde, had it not bene that by reason of her criyng out, she was succoured and pulled frō his héeles and so deliuered. And if it had so come to passe that this fearfull maiden had bene slaine by him, what daun­ger had we bene in? By these and like lies, he prouoked the shéepeherdes earnestlie against me, whiche greued [Page] me (God wote) full sore that saide nothing. Then one of the shepeherdes said: Why doo we not make sacrifice of this common adulterouse Asse. My sonne (ꝙ he) let vs kill him and throwe his guttes to the dogges, Here they deuise to kill the Asse. & reserue his fleshe for the labourers supper. Then let vs cast dust vpō his skinne, & carie it home to our maister, and say that the Wolues hath deuoured him. The boie that was my euill accuser, made no delaie but prepared him selfe to execute the sentence of the shepeherde, re­ioysing at my present daūger, but O how greatly did I then repent that the stripe which I gaue him with my héele had not killed him. Then he drewe out his swoord and made it sharpe vpon a whetstone to slea me, but an other of the shepeherdes gan saie, verely it is a great offence to kill so faire an Asse. A friendly ene­mie to the Asse. And so (by accusation of luxurie and lasciuious wantonnes) to lacke so necessary his labour and seruice, where otherwyse if you would cut of his stones, he might not onely be depriued of his courage, but also become gentle, that we should be de­liuered from all feare of daunger. Moreouer, he would be thereby more fat and better in fleshe. For I knowe my selfe as well many Asses, as also moste fierce hor­ses, that by reason of their wantonnes, haue bene most madde and terrible, but (when they weare gelded and cut) they haue become very gentle and tame, and trac­table to all vse. Wherfore I would counsell you to geld him. And if you consent therto, I will by and by, when I goe to the next market fetche mine yrons and tooles for the purpose: And I ensure you after y I haue gel­ded and cut of his stones, I will deliuer him vnto you as tame as a lambe. When I did perceiue that I was deliuered from death, Apuleius spea­keth. and reserued to be gelded, I was greatly sorie, in so muche that I thought all the hinder [Page 75] part of my bodie and my stones did ake for woo, but I sought about to kil my selfe by some maner of meanes, to thende if I should die, I would die with vnperished members.

¶Howe the boye that ledde Apuleius to the fieldes, was slaine in the woodde.

Cap. 30.

WHile I deuised with my selfe in what maner I might ende my life, the roperipe boie on the next morrow led me to the hill againe, & tied me to a boowe of a great Oke, and in the meane season he tooke his hatchet and cut woodde to lode me withall, but beholde there crept out of a caue by, a meruailous great Beare, holdinge out his mighty head, whome when I sawe, I was sodēly strokē in feare & (throwing all the strēgth of my bodie into my hinder héeles) lifted vp my streined head and brake the halter, wherwith I was tied. Then there was no néede to bidde me runne awaie, for I scoured not onely on foote, but tumbled o­uer the stones and rockes with my bodie, til I came in­to the open fieldes, to the intent I would escape away from the terrible Beare, but especially from the boie y was worse then the Beare. Then a certaine straunger that passed by y waie (espiyng me alone as a straie Asse) tooke me vp & rode vpon my back, beating me w t a staffe (which he bare in h [...] hād) through a blind & an vnknowē lane, wherat I was nothing displeased, but willingly wēt forward to auoide y cruel paine of gelding, which y shepardes had ordeined for me, but as for y stripes I was nothing moued, since I was acustomed to be beatē so euery day: But euell fortune would not suffer me to continue in suche estate longe: For the Shepeherdes [Page] (looking about for a cowe that they had lost, He falleth into Scilla that will auoide Charib­dis. after they had sought in diuers places) fortuned to come vpon vs vnwares, who when they espied and knewe me, they woulde haue taken me by the halter, but he that rode vpon my backe resisted thē saiyng. Good lord maisters, what intende you to doo? will you robbe me? Then said the shéepeherdes, what thinkest thou that we handle thée otherwise then thou deseruest, which hast stolen a­waie our Asse, why doest thou not rather tel vs where thou hast hidden the boie whom thou hast slaine? And therewithall they pulled him downe to the grounde, beatinge him with their fistes, and spurning him with their féere. Then he sware vnto thē saiyng: that he saw no maner of boie, but onely founde the Asse loose and straiynge abroade, whiche he tooke vp to thintent he might haue some rewarde for the finding of him, and to restore him againe to his maister. And I would to god (ꝙ he) y this Asse (which verely was neuer séene) could speake as a man, to geue witnesse of mine innocencie: Then would you be ashamed of the iniurie whiche you haue done to me. Thus (reasoning for him selfe) he no­thing preuailed, for thei tied the halter about my neck, and (maugre his face) pulled me quite awaie, & led me backe againe through the wooddes of the hill to y place where the boie accustomed to resorte. And after that they could finde him in no place, at length they founde his bodie rent and torne in pieces, and his members dispersed in sondrie places, which I well knewe was done by the cruel Beare, and verely I would haue told it if I might haue spoken, but (whiche I could onely do) I greatly reioysed at his death, although it came to late. Then they gathered together the pieces of his bo­die and buried them. By and by they laide all the fault [Page 76] to him that was my newe maister, that tooke me vp by the way, and (bringing him home faste bounde to their houses) purposed on the nexte morrow to accuse him of murder, and to lead him before the Iustices to haue iudgement of death.

¶How Apuleius was cruelly beaten by the mother of the boye that was slaine.

Cap 31.

IN the meane season while the parentes of the boye did lament and wéepe, for the death of their sonne. The shéepeherd (according to his promise) came with his instrumentes and tooles to gelde me, then one of them said: Tushe we litle estéeme the mischief which he did yesterday, but now we are contēted that to morow his stones shal not onely be cut of, Apuleius gel­dinge was de­laide. but also his head. So was it brought to passe that my death was delaide till the next morowe: but what thankes did I giue to that good boie, who (being so slaine) was the cause of my par­don for one shorte day: Howbeit I had no time then to rest my self, for the mother of the boye wéeping and la­menting for his death, attyred in mourninge vesture, tare her heare, and beate her brest, and came presently into the stable, sayinge: Is it reason that this carelesse beast should doo nothinge all day but holde his head in the manger, filling and bolling his guttes with meate without cōpassion of my great miserie, or remēbraunce of the pitifull death of his slayne maister: and contem­ninge my age and infirmitie, thinketh that I am vna­ble to reuenge his mischiefes: moreouer he would per­swade me that he were not culpable, in déede it is a cō ­uenient thinge to looke and pleade for safetie, when as the conscience doth confesse the offence, as théeues and malefactors accustome to doo: but O good Lord y cursed [Page] beast if thou couldest vtter the cōtentes of thine owne minde whome A foolish wo­man to laye the fault to a bruite beast. (though he were the veriest foole in all the worlde) mightest thou perswade that this murder was voide or without thy faulte, when as it lay in thy power either to kéepe of the théeues with thy héeles or else to bite and teare them with thy téeth. Couldest not thou (that so oftē in his life time diddest spurne & kicke him) defende him nowe at the pointe of death by like meane? yet at least thou shouldest haue taken him vpō thy backe, and so brought him from the cruel handes of théeues, where contrary thou rannest away alone for­sakinge thy good maister, thy pastor, and conductor. Knowest y not that such as denie their holesome helpe and ayde to them which lie in daunger of death, ought to be punished because they haue offended against good manners and the law naturall, but I promise thée thou shalt not longe reioyse at my harmes: thou shalt féele y smart of thy homicide and offence, I wil sée what I can doo, and there withall she vnlosed her apron, and boūde all my féete together, to the ende I might not helpe my selfe, then she toke a great barre whiche accustomed to barre the stable doore, and neuer ceased beatinge of me till she was so weary y the barre fell out of her hādes, whereupon she (complayninge of the soone faintnes of her armes) ranne to her fire and brought a fier brande and thrust it vnder my taile, burninge me continually till such time as (hauing but one remedie) I all arrayed her face and eies with my dirtie donge, whereby (what with the stinke therof, and what with the filthines that fell in her eyes) she was welnie blinde, so I enforced the queane to leaue of, otherwise I had died as Melea­ger did by the sticke, whiche his madde mother Althea cast into the fire.

The eight Booke of Lucius Apuleius of the Golden Asse.

¶Howe a yonge man came and declared the mi­serable death of Lepolemus, and his wife Cha­rites.

Cap. 32.

ABoute midnight came a yonge man whiche séemed to be one of the fami­ly The Asse spea­keth. of the good woman Charites, who sometimes endured so muche misery and calamitie with me emongst the théeues, who after that he had taken a stoole and satte downe by the fire side in the company of the seruauntes, beganne to de­clare many terrible thinges that had happened vnto the house of Charites, saying: O ye horsekepers, shepe­herdes, and cowheardes, you shall vnderstand that we haue loste our good mistris Charites, miserably and by euill aduenture, and to the ende you may learne and know all the whole matter, I purpose to tell you the circumstance of euery pointe, wherby such as are more learned then I (to whome fortune hath ministred more copious stile) may painte it out in paper in forme of an Historie: there was a yonge gentleman dwellinge in the nexte Citie, borne of good parentage, valiant in prowesse, and riche in substance, but very much geuen and addict to whore huntyng and continuall reueling. Whereby he fell in company with théeues, These vices are lightly linked together. and had his hande ready to the effusion of humaine bloudde, his name was Thrasillus.

[Page] The matter was this according to the report of eue­ry man: He demaunded Charites in marriage, who although he were a man more comely then the residue that wooed her, Good fame is better then riches. and also had richesse abundantly, yet because he was of euill fame, and a man of wicked ma­ners and conuersation, he had the repulse and was put of by Charites, and so she married with Lepolemus: howbeit this yonge man secretly loued her, yet moued somwhat at her refusal, he busily serched some meanes to woorke his damnable intent: And (hauinge found oc­casion and opportunitie to accōplish his purpose, which he had longe time concealed) brought to passe, that the same daye that Charites was deliuered by the subtile meane and valiant audacitie of her husbande, from the puissance of the Théeues, he mingled him self emongst the assembly, feigninge that he was gladde of the new marriage and comminge home againe of the mayden, whereby (by reason that he came of so noble parentes) he was receaued & entertained into the house, as one of their chiefe and principall fréendes: Here the Lābes made muche of the Wolfe. Howbeit vnder cloke of a faithful welwiller, he dissimuled his mischie­uous minde and intent, in continuāce of time, by much familiaritie, and often conuersation and banketinge together, he fell more and more in fauour, like as we sée it fortuneth to louers, who first doo litle delight thē selues in loue, till as by continuall acquaintaunce they kisse and embrase eche other. Thrasillus perceauinge that it was a harde matter to breake his minde secret­ly to Charites, whereby he was wholy barred from the accomplishmēt of his luxurious appetite, & on the other side perceauinge that the loue of her and her husbande was so strongly linked together, y e the bonde betwéene them might in no wise be disseuered, moreouer it was [Page 78] a thinge impossible to rauishe her, although he had con­sented therto, yet was he still prouoked forward by ve­hement lust when as he sawe him selfe vnable to bring his purpose to passe. Howbeit at lēgth the thinge which séemed so hard and difficil, through hope of his fortified loue, did now appeare easie & facill: but marke I pray you diligently to what ende the furious force of his in­ordinate desire came. On a day Lepolemus went to the chase with Thrasillus to hunte for Goates, for his wife Charites desired him earnestly to medle with no other beastes, which were of more fierce and wilde na­ture, when they were come within the chase to a great thicket fortressed about with bryers and thornes, they compassed rounde with their dogges, and besette euery place with nettes, by and by warninge was giuen to lette loose: The dogges rushed in with suche a crie that all the forest range againe with the noyes, but be­holde there leaped out no Goate, nor déere, nor gentle Hinde, but an horrible and daungerous wilde Boare, harde & thicke skinned, bristeled terribly like thornes, fominge at the mouth, grindinge his téeth and lokinge dyrefully with fitie eyes. The dogges that first set vpō him he tare and rent with his tuskes, and thē he ranne quight thorough the nettes and escaped away: when we sawe the furie of this beast, we were greatly strikē with feare, and because we neuer accustomed to chase suche dreadfull Boares, and further because we were vnarmed and without weapons, we gotte and hidde our selues vnder bushes and trées: then Thrasillus ha­uinge founde oportunitie to woorke his treason, saide to Lepolemus, what stande we here amased? why show we our selues like dastardes? why léese we so woorthy a pray with our feminiue hartes? let vs mounte vpon [Page] our horses and pursue him incontinentlie: Take you a hunting staffe, & I will take a chasing speare, by and by they leaped vpon their horses and folowed the beaste. But he returning against thē with furious force, pried with his eies, on whome he might first assaile with his tuskes: Lepolemus stroke the beast first on the back w t his hunting staffe. O wicked deede. Thrasillus faininge to aide and as­siste him, came behind, and cut of the hinder legges of Lepulemus horse, in such sorte that he fel downe to the ground with his maister: And sodenly the Boare came vpon Lepolemus, and furiously tare and rēt him with his téeth. Howbeit, Thrasillus was not suffised to sée him thus wounded, O more mische­uous facte. but when he desired his friendlie helpe, he thrust Lepolemus through the right thighe with his speare, the more because he thought the woūd of the speare would be takē for a wound of the Boares téeth: Then he killed the beast likewise. And when he was thus miserably slaine, euery one of vs came out of our holes, and went towardes our slaine master. But although that Thrasillus was ioyfull of the death of Lepolemus, Worse then Iudas. whome he did greatly hate, yet he cloked the matter with a sorowfull countenaunce, he feigned a dolorous face, he often embrased the body whiche he him selfe slewe, he plaied all the partes of a mourninge person, sauing there fell no teares from his eies. Thus he resembled vs in eche point, who verely, and not without occasion, had cause to lament for our maister, laiyng all the blame of this homicide vnto the Boare. Incontinently after, the soroweful newes of the death of Lepolemus, came to the eares of all the family, but especially to Charites, who after she had hard suche pi­tifull tidinges, as a madde and raginge woman, ranne vp and downe the streates, criyng and howling lamē ­tably. [Page 79] All the citezins gathered together, and suche as they met, bare them companie runninge towardes the chase. When they came to the slaine bodie of Lepole­mus, Charites threwe her selfe vpon him, weping and lamenting greuouslie for his death, in suche sorte, that she would haue presentlie ended her life, vpon y corpse of her slaine husbande, whome she so entierly loued, had it not bene that her parentes and friendes did com­fort her, and pulled her away. The body was takē vp, and in funerall pompe brought to the citie, and buried. In the meane season, Thrasillus feigned much sorowe for the death of Lepolemus, but in his hart he was well pleased & ioyful. And to coūterfect the matter, he would come to Charites & saie: O what a losse haue I had by y death of my friende, my fellowe, my compaignion Le­polemus: O Charites, cōfort your selfe, pacifie your do­lor, refraine your wéeping, beat not your brestes: And with such other & like woordes, & diuers exāples he en­deuored to suppresse her great sorowe, but he spake not this for any other intēt but to win the hart of y womā, and to norish his odious loue with filthy delight. The parte of a good woman. Howbeit, Charites after the buriall of her husbāde, sought y meanes to folowe him, and (not susteining the sorowes wherin she was wrapped) gotte her secretly into a chā ­ber & purposed to finish her life there with dolour & tri­bulation: But Thrasillus was very importunate, & at lēgth brought to passe that at the intercessiō of the pa­rentes & friendes of Charites, she somewhat refreshed her fallen membres with refectiō of meate and bayne. Howbeit, she did it more at y cōmaundement of her pa­rents, then for any thing els: For she could in no wise be mery, nor receiue any comforte, but tormented her selfe daye and night before the image of her husbande, [Page] which she had made like vnto Bacchus, & rendred vnto him diuine honours and seruices. In the meane season Thrasillus not able to refraine any lēger, before Cha­rites had asswaged her dolours, before her troubled minde had pacified her fury, euē in the middle of all her griefes, while she wéeped for her husbande, while she tare her garments and rent her heare, demaunded her in marriage, and so without shame he detected the se­cretes & vnspeakeable deceites of his harte. But Cha­rites detested and abhorred his demaunde & as she had bene stroken with some clappe of thunder, with some storme, or with the lightning of Iupiter, she presently fell downe to the grounde all amased. Howbeit in the ende when her spirites were reuiued & that she retur­ned to her selfe, perceauing that Thrasillus was so im­portunate, she demaunded respite to deliberate and to take aduise on the matter, in the meane season y shape of Lepolemus that was slaine so miserably appeared to Charites with a pale and blouddy face, sayinge: O my swéete wife (which no other person cā say but I) I pray thée for the loue which is betwéene vs twoo, Murder is al­waies reueled. if there be any memory of me in thy hart, or remembraunce of my pitifull death, marry with any other person, so that y marry not with the traytour Thrasillus, haue no con­ference with him, eate not with him, lie not with him, auoide the blouddy hande of mine enemie, couple not thy selfe with a parricide, for those woundes (the bloud wherof thy teares did wash away) were not y woūdes of the téeth of the Boare, but the speare of Thrasillus depriued me from thée. Thus spake Lepolemus vnto his louinge wife, and declared the residew of the dam­nable fact: then Charites awaking from sléepe beganne to renew her dolor, to teare her garments, and to beate [Page 80] her armes with her comely hādes, howbeit she reueled the vision whiche she sawe to no manner of person, but dissimulinge that she knew no parte of the mischiefe, deuised with her selfe howe she might be reuenged on the traytor, and finish her owne life to ende and knitte vp all sorrow: Incontinently came Thrasillus the de­testable demaunder of sodein pleasure, and weried the closed eares of Charites with talke of mariage, but she gentely refusinge his cōmunication, and colouring the matter, with a passing crafte in the middest of his ear­nest desiers, gan say: Thrasillus, you shall vnderstand that yet the face of your brother and my husband, is al­waies before mine eies, I smel yet the Cinamome sent of his pretious body, I yet feele Lepolemus aliue in my hart, wherfore you shall doo wel if you graūt to me, mi­serable woman, necessarie time to bewayle his death, that after the residue of a few moneths, the whole yere may be expired, which thing toucheth aswell my shame as your holsome profite, least peraduēture by our spée­die and quicke marriage we should iustely raise & pro­uoke the spirit of my husband to woorke our destructiō. Howbeit Thrasillus was not contented with this pro­mise, The whote fu­ries of deuelis [...]. appetites. but more and more was earnest vpon her: In so much y she was enforced to speake to him in this man­ner: My fréende Thrasillus, if thou be so contented vn­till the whole yéere be complete and finished, beholde here is my body, take thy pleasure, but in such sort and so secrete, that no seruaūt of the house may perceaue it. Then Thrasillus trustinge the false promisses of the woman, & preferring his inordinate pleasure aboue all thinges in the worlde, was ioyfull in his harte & looked for night, when as he might haue his purpose. But come y about midnight (ꝙ Charites) desguised without [Page] company. And doo but hisse at my chamber doore, & my noucce shall attende and let thée in: this counsell plea­sed Thrasillus meruelously, who (suspecting no harme) did alwaies looke for night, and the houre assigned by Charites: the time was skarse come, whē as (according to her commaundement) he desguised him selfe, & went streight to the chamber, where he foūde the nource at­tendinge for him, who (by the apointment of her mi­stris) fedde him with slatteringe talke, and gaue him mingled & doled drinke in a cuppe, excusing the absence of her mistris Charites by reason that she attended on her father being sicke, vntil such time, that with swéete talke and operation of the wine, he fell in a sounde sléepe: now when he lay prostrate on the grounde rea­die to all aduenture, Charites (beinge called for) came in, and with manly courage and bolde force, stoode ouer this sleepinge murderer, saying: Beholde the faithfull compaignion of my husbande, beholde this valiaunt hunter: The Goddes suf­fereth no vice vnpunished. behold my déere spouse, this is the hande which shedde my bloudde, this is the harte whiche hath de­uised so many subtill meanes to worke my destruction, these be the eyes whome I haue ill pleased, behold now they forshowe their owne destinie, sléepe carelesse, dreame that thou arte in the handes of the mercifull, for I will not hurte thée with thy swoorde or with any other weapon, God forbidde that I shoulde slea thée as thou slewest my husband, but thy eies shall fayle thée, and thou shalte sée no more, then that whereof thou dreamest: thou shalte thinke the death of thine enemie more swéete then thy life: thou shalte sée no light, thou shalte lacke the ayde of a leader, thou shalte not haue me as thou hopest, thou shalte haue no delight of my marriage, thou shalte not die, and yet liuinge thou [Page 81] shalte haue no ioye, but wander betwéene light and darkenesse as an vnsure image: thou shalte séeke for the hande that pricked out thy eies, yet shalte thou not knowe of whome thou shouldest complaine: I will make sacrafice with the bloudde of thine eyes vpon the graue of my husband, but what gainest thou thorough my delay? Perhaps thou dreamest that thou embra­cest me in thine armes, leaue of the darkenes of sléepe, and awake thou to receaue a penall depriuation of thy sight, lifte vp thy face, regarde thy vengeance and e­uill fortune, recken thy miserie so pleaseth thine eies to a chaste woman, that thou shalte haue blindnesse to thy compaignion, and an euerlastinge remorse of thy miserable conscience. When she had spoken these woordes, she toke a great nedle from her head and pric­ked out both his eies: which done, she by and by caught the naked swoorde whiche her husbande Lepolemus accustomed to were, and ranne thorough out all the Citie like a madde woman, towarde the Sepulchre of her husbande: Then all we of the house withall the Ci­tizins, rāne incontinently after her, to take the swoord out of her handes, but she claspinge aboute the tombe of Lepolemus, kept vs of with her naked weapon, and when she perceaued that euery one of vs wepte and la­mented, she spake in this sorte: I pray you my fréendes wéepe not, nor lament for me, for I haue reuenged the death of my husbande, I haue punished deseruedly the wicked breaker of our marriage, nowe is it time to séeke out my swéete Lepolemus, and presently with this swoorde to finishe my lyfe. And therewithall after she had made relation of the whole matter, declared the vision which she sawe, and tolde by what meane she deceaued Thrasillus, thrustinge the swoorde vnder her [Page] right brest & wallowinge in her owne bloudde, at lēgth with manly courage yéelded vp the ghost. O deede woor­thy of remem­braunce. Then imme­diatly the fréendes of miserable Charites, did burie her body within the same sepulchre. Thrasillus hearyng al the matter, & knowinge not by what meanes he might ende his life, for he thought his swoorde was not suffi­cient to reuēge so great a crime, at length went to the same sepulchre and cried with a loude voice, sayinge: O ye dead spirites whom I haue so highly offended re­ceaue me, beholde I make sacrifice vnto you with my bodie: whiche saide, he closed y sepulchre, purposing to famish him selfe, and to finishe his life there in sorrow. These thinges the yonge man with pitifull sighes and teares declared vnto the cowheardes & shéepeherdes, whiche caused them all to wéepe: but they fearinge to become subiect vnto new maisters, prepared thē selues to departe away.

¶How Apuleius was ledde away by the horsekeper, and what daungers he was in.

Cap. 33.

BY and by the Horsekeper, The Asse spea­keth. to whome the charge of me was cōmitted, brought foorth all his substance and laded me and other horses withal, & so depar­ted thense: we bare wemen, children, pullettes, spar­rowes, kiddes, whelpes, & other thinges whiche were not able to kéepe pace with vs, and that whiche I bare vpon my backe, although it was a mighty burthen, yet séemed it very light, because I was driuen away from him that most terribly had appointed to kill me, when we hed passed ouer a great mountayne full of trées, and were come againe into the open fieldes, beholde we approched nighe to a fayre and riche Castell, where [Page 82] it was tolde vnto vs that we weare not able to passe in our iourney that night, by reason of the great number of terrible Woolues, whiche weare in the countrey a­bout, so fierce and cruell, that they put euerie man in feare, in such sort that they would inuade and set vpon such which passed by like theues, and deuoure bothe thē and their beastes.

Moreouer, we weare aduertised that there laie in the waie wheare we should passe, manie dead bodies, eaten and torne with Wolues. Wherefore we weare willed to state theare all night, & on the next morning, to goe close and rounde together, whereby we might passe and escape all perilles and daungers. But (not­withstandinge this good counsell) our cait [...]e driuers weare so couetous to goe forwarde, and so fearfull of pursuit, that they neuer staied till the morninge: But being well nie midnight, they made vs trudge in our waie a pace: Then I fearing the great daunger whiche might happen, ranne amongest the middle of the other horses, to thend I might defend and saue my poore but­tockes from the Wolues, whereat euery man muche meruailed to sée, that I scoured away swifter then the other horses: But suche was my agilitée not to get me any praise, but rather for feare. At that time I remem­bred with my selfe, that the valiant horse Pegasus, did [...]ie in the aire more to auoide the daunder of dreadfull Chimera, then for any thing els. The shepardes which draue vs before thē, weare well armed like warriours: One had a speare, an other had a shepehooke, some had dartes, some clubbes, some gathered vp great stones, some helde vp their sharpe iauelins, and some feared awaie the Wolues with light firebrandes. Finally we lacked nothing to make vp an armie, but onely drums [Page] and trumpettes, but when we had passed these dau [...] ­gers not without small feare, we fortuned to fall into worse, for the Wolues came not vpon vs, eyther be­cause of the greate multitude of our company, or els because of our firebrandes, or peraduenture they were gone to some other place, for we could sée none, but the inhabitantes of the nexte villages (supposinge that we were Théeues by reason of our great multitude,) for the defence of their owne substance, and for the feare they were in, sette great and mighty masties vpon vs, which they had kept & nourished for the safetie of their houses, who compassing vs rounde about, leaped on e­uery side, tearing vs with their téeth, in such sorte that they pulled many of vs to the grounde, verely it was a pitifull sight to sée so many dogges, some followinge suche as flied, some inuadinge such as stoode still, some tearinge those which lay prostrate, but generally there were none which escaped cléere: Behol [...]e vpon this an other daunger ensewed, the inhabitantes of the towne stoode in their garrettes & windowes, throwinge great stones vpon our heades, that we coulde not tell whe­ther it were best for vs to auoide the gapinge mouthes of the dogges at hād, or the perill of the stones a farre, emongst whome there was one that hurled a greate [...]inte vpon a woman, which satte vpon my backe, who cried out piteously, desiringe her husband to helpe her. Then he (cominge to succour and ayde his wife) began to speake in this sorte: Alas maisters what meane you to trouble vs poore laboring mē so cruelly? what meane you to reuenge your selues vppon vs, that doo you no harme? what thinke you to gaine by vs? you dwell not in caues or dennes: you are no people barborous that you should delight in effusion of humaine bloudde. [Page 83] At these woordes the tempest of stones did cease, & the storme of the dogges vanished away. Then one (stan­dinge on the toppe of a great Cipresse trée) spake vnto vs, saying: Thinke you not maisters that we doo this, to the intent to rifle or take away any of your goodes, but for the saluegarde of our selues and family, now a Goddes name you may departe away. So we wēt for­warde some wounded with stones, some bitten with dogges, but generally there was none whiche escaped frée.

¶How the Shepeherdes determined to abide in a certaine woodde to cure their woundes.

Cap. 34.

WHen we had gonne a good part of our way we came to a certayne woodde enuironed with great trées, & compassed about with pleasaunt medowes, wheras the shéepeherdes apointed to conti­new a certaine space to cure their woundes, and sores, then they satte downe on the grounde to refresh their werie mindes, and afterwardes they sought for medi­cines to heale their bodies, some washed away their bloud with the water of the runninge riuer: some stop­ped their woundes with sponges and cloutes, in this māner euery one prouided for his owne safety. In the meane season we perceaued an old man, who séemed to be a shéepeherde by reason of the goates and shéepe that fedde roūd about him: A dreadfull place of daūger Then one of our cōpany demaū ­ded whether he had any milke, butter, or chéese to sell. To whom he made answeare shaking his head, saying: Doo you looke for any meat or drinke, or any other refe­ction here? know you not in what place you be? & ther­withal he toke his shéepe & draue thē away as fast as he might possible. This answere made our shéepeherdes [Page] greatly to feare that they thought of nothinge els butto enquire what countrey they weare in: Howbeit, they sawe no maner of persone of whome they might de­maunde. At length as they weare thus in doubte, they [...]erceiued an other olde man with a staffe in his hand, very werie with trauell, who approching nighe to our companie, began to wéepe and complaine, saiyng: Alas maisters, I praie you succour me miserable caitife, and restore my neiphewe to me againe, that by following a sparrowe that flewe before him, is fallen into a ditche hereby, and verely I thinke he is in daunger of death. As for me, I am not able to helpe him out by reason of my olde age, but you that are so valiāt and lustie, may easelie helpe me herein, and deliuer me my boye, my heire and guide of my life. These woordes made vs all to pitie him: And then the yongest and stoutest of our companie, who alone escaped best the late skyrmishe of dogges and stones, rose vp, demaūding in what ditche the boie was fallen: Mary (ꝙ he) yonder, and pointinge with his finger, brought him to a great thicket of bus­shes and thorne, where they both entred in. In the meane season, after y we had well refreshed our selues and cured our woundes, we tooke vp our packes, pur­posing to depart awaie. And because we would not goe awaie without the yonge man our felowe: The she­pehardes whistled and called for him, but whē he gaue no answere, they sent one of their companie to séeke him out, who after a while returned againe with a pale face and sorowfull newes, saiyng: that he sawe a terri­ble Draggon eating and deuouring their compaigniō: and as for the olde man, he coulde sée him in no place. When they hard this (remēbring likewise the woordes of the first olde man that shaketh his head and draue [Page 84] away his sheepe) they ranne away beatinge vs before them, to flie from this desert and pestilent countrie.

¶How a woman killed her selfe, and her childe, because her husbande haunted harlottes.

Cap. 35.

AFter that we had passed a great part of our iour­ney we came to a certaine village, where we lay all night, but herken and I will tell you a great mischiefe that happened there. You shal vnderstande y there was a seruaunt to whome his maister had com­mitted the whole gouermēt of his house, and was mai­ster of the lodginge where we lay: this seruaunt had married a mayden of the same house, how be it he was greatly in loue with a harlotte of the towne, and accu­stomed to resorte vnto her, wherewith his wife was so highly displeased and became so ielous, that she gathe­red together all her husbandes substāce, with his tailes and bookes of accompte, & threwe them into a light fire, she was not contented with this, but she toke a corde & bounde her childe which she had by her husband about her middle, & caste her selfe hedlonge into a déepe pitte: The maister takinge in euill parte the death of these twaine, toke his seruaunt whiche was the cause of this murder by his luxury, and first after that he had put of all his apparell, he annointed his body with hony, and then bounde him sure to a figge trée, where, in a rotten stocke a great number of Pismares had builded their nestes, the Pismares after they had felte the swéetnes of the hony came vpon his bodie, and by litle and litle (in continuance of time) deuoured all his fleshe, in such sorte that there remained on the trée nothinge els saue his bace bones: this was declared vnto vs by the inha­bitantes [Page] of the village there who greatly sorrowed for the death of this seruant: then we auoidinge likewise from this dreadfull lodginge, incontinently departed away.

¶Howe Apuleius was cheapened by diuers persons, and how they loked in his mouth to know his age.

Cap. 36.

AFter this we came to a fayre Citie very popu­lous, where our shéepeherdes determined to cō ­tinew, by reason y it séemed a place where they might liue vnknowē, farre from such as should pursue them, and because it was a countrie very plentifull of corne and other victualles, where when we had remai­ned the space of thrée daies, & that I poore Asse, and the other horses were fedde & kept in the Stable to the in­tent we might séeme more saleable, we were brought out at length to the market, and by & by a crier sounded with his horne to notifie y we were to be solde, all my compaigniō horses were bought vp by gentlemen, but­as for me I stoode still forsaken of all men. And when many biers came by and looked in my mouth to knowe mine age, I was so werie with opening my iawes that at length (vnable to endure any lenger) whē one came with a stinking payre of handes, & grated my gommes with his filthy fingers I bitte them cleane of, whiche thing caused the standers by to forsake me, as beinge a fierce and cruell beast: the crier when he had gotten a hoarse voice with crying, and sawe that no man would bie me, began to mocke me, saiyng: To what end stāde we here with this vile Asse, this feble beast, this slowe iade with woorne hoofes, good for nothinge, but to make slues of his skinne, why doo we not giue him to some [Page 85] body, for he earneth not his hey, in this manner he made all the standers by to laugh excéedingly, but my euill fortune whiche was euer so cruell againste me, whome I by trauell of so many countreis coulde in no wise escape, did more and more enuie me, with inuen­tion of new meanes to afflict my poore bodie, in geuing me an other maister as spitefull as the rest. There was an olde man, somewhat balde, with longe and grey heare, one of the nomber of those which goe from doore to doore through out al the villages, bearing the image of the Goddesse Siria, and plaiyng with cymballes to gette the almes of good and charitable folkes, this olde man came hastely towardes the crier, and demaunded where I was bredde, marry (ꝙ he) in Cappadocia: then he enquired what age I was of, the crier aunsweared as a mathematricien, whiche desposed to me my pla­netes, that I was fiue yeeres olde, and willed the olde man to looke in my mouth, for I would not willingly (ꝙ he) incurre the penaltie of the lawe Cornelia in sel­ling a frée Citizin for a seruill slaue, by a Goddes name this faire beast to ride home on, and about in the coun­trie: but this curious bier did neuer stinte to question of my qualities, and at length he demaunded whether I were gentle or no: gentle (ꝙ the crier) as gentle as a Lambe, tractable to al vse, he wil neuer bite, he wil ne­uer kicke, but you would rather thinke y vnder y shape of the Asse, there were some well aduised man, whiche verely you may easely coniect, for if you would thrust your nose in his tayle you shall perceaue how pacient he is: Thus the crier mocked the olde man, but he per­ceauing his tauntes and iestes, wared very angry, sai­yng: Away dotinge crier, I pray the omnipotent and omniparent goddesse Siria, sainct Sabod, Bellona [Page] with her mother Idea, & Venus with Adonis to strike out both thine eies that with tauntinge mockes haste scoffed me in this sorte, doest thou thinke that I will put a Goddesse vppon the backe of any fierce beaste, whereby her diuine image should be throwen downe on the grounde, and so I poore miser should be compel­led (tearinge my heare) to looke for some Phisicien to helpe her? when I harde him speake this, I thought w t my selfe sodeinly to leape vpon him like a madde Asse, to the intent he shoulde not bie me, but incontinently there came an other Marchaunt that preuented my thought, and offered seuentene pence for me: then my mayster was gladde and receauing the money, deliue­red me to my newe maister, who was called Philebus: and he carried his newe seruaunt home, and before he came to his house, he called out his daughters, say­inge: beholde my daughters what a gentle seruant I haue bought for you, then they weare meruelous glad, and comminge out pratlinge and shoutinge for ioye, thought verely that he had brought home a fitte & con­uenable seruant for their purpose, but when they per­ceaued that it was an Asse, they began to reproue him, sayinge: that he had not bought a seruant for his may­dēs, but rather an Asse for him selfe. Howbeit (ꝙ they) kéepe him not wholy for your owne ridinge, but let vs likewise haue him at commaundement, therewithall they ledde me into the stable, & tied me to the maūger, there was a certaine yonge man with a mighty bodie well skilled in playing on instrumētes before the God­desse to get money, who (assone as he espied me) enter­tained me very well, for he filled my racke & maunger with meat, & spake merely, saying: O maister Asse you are welcome, now you shall take my office in hande, [Page 86] you are come to supplie my rowme, and to ease me of my miserable laboure: But I praie God thou maist lōg liue and please my maister well, to thende thou maiest continually deliuer me from so great paine. When I harde his woordes, I did prognosticate my miserie to come. The daie following, I sawe there a great nom­ber of persons apparelled in diuers colours, hauinge painted faces, mytres on their heades, vestimentes co­loured like saffron, surplesses of silke, and on their féete yellowe shoes, who attired the Goddesse in a roabe of purple, and put her vpon my backe. Then they went foorth with their armes naked to their shoulders, bea­ring with them great swoordes and mightie axes, and daunsing like madde persons. After that we had pas­sed many small villages, we fortuned to come to one Britunis house, where at our first entrie, they began to hurle them selues hither and thither, as though they weare madde. They made a thousand iestes with their féete and their heades: They would bite them selues: Finally, euery one tooke his weapon and wounded his armes in diuers places. Emongest whome there was one more madde then the reste, that fette many déepe sighes from the bottome of his harte, as though he had bene rauished in spirit, or replenished with deuine po­wer. And after that, he somwhat returning to him self inuented and forged a great lie, saiyng: that he had di­spleased the deuine maiestie of the Goddesse, by doinge of something whiche was not conuenable to the order of their holie Religion, wherefore he would doo venge­ance of him selfe: And therewithall he tooke a whippe and scourged his owne body, that the bloud issued out abundantly, which thinge caused me greatly to feare to sée such woūdes and effusion of bloud, least the same [Page] Goddesse desiring so much the bloud of mē should like­wise delire y bloud of an Asse. So vsed they in olde time to of­fer to Images. After they were wery w t hurling and beating them selues, they sat downe. And beholde, the inhabitantes came in & offred gold, siluer, vessels of wyne, milke, chéese, flower, wheat, and other thinges: Amongst whome there was one that brought barley to the Asse that caried the Goddesse, but the gre­dy horsons thrust al into their sacke which thei brought for the purpose, and put it vpon my back, to thende I might serue for twoo purposes, y is to say: for the barne by reason of my corne, and for the temple, by reason of the goddesse. In this sorte they wet from place to place robbing all the countrey ouer: At length they came to a certaine castell, purposing to make good chere there, where vnder coloure of diuinatiō, thei brought to passe that they obteined a fatte shéepe of a poore husbandman for the Goddesse supper, & to make sacrifice withal. Af­ter that y banket was prepared, they washed their bo­dies & brought in a tale yong mā of the village to suppe with them, who skaree tasted a fewe potage when they began to discouer their beastly customes & inordi­nate desier of vnnaturall luxurie. For they compassed him round about sitting at the table, & abused the yong man contrarie to all nature & reason: When I behelde this horrible fact, I could not but attempte to vtter my minde and saie, O maisters, but I could pronounce no more but the first letter O, which I roared out so vali­antly, that the yong mē of the town, séeking for a stray Asse that they had lost the same night, and hearing my voice, wherby they iudged y I had bene theirs, entred into the house vnwares, and founde these persons cō ­mitting their vile abhomination, which whē they saw, they declared to all the inhabitātes by their vnnatural [Page 87] vilanie mocking and laughing at this the pure & cleane chastitie of their Religion. In the meane season, Phe­bus & his companie, (by reason of the bruite which was dispersed throughout all y e Region there of their beast­ly wickednes) put all their tromperie vpon my backe & departed away about midnight. When we had passed a good part of our iourney before the rising of the Sun, we came into a wide desert, where they cōspired toge­ther to slea me. For after they had taken the Goddesse from my back and set her gingerly vpon the grounde, they likewise tooke of my harnesse, and boūd me surely to an oke, beating me with their whippe, in suche sorte that all my bodie was mortified. Amōgst whome there was one that threatned to cut of my legges with his hatchet, because by my noyse I diffamed his chastitée, but the other regarding more their own profit then my vtilitie, thought best to spare my life, because I might carie home the Goddesse: So they laded me againe, dri­uing me before them with their naked swoordes til thei came to a noble citie: where the principal patrō bearing high reuerence vnto the Goddesse, came in great deuo­tion before vs w t Tympanie, cimballes, & other instru­mentes, & receiued her & al our companie with much sa­crifice & veneration: But there I remember, I thought my selfe in moste daūger, for there was one y t brought to the maister of the house, a fide of a fat buck for a pre­sent, whiche being hanged behinde the kytchin doore, not farre from the grounde, was cleane eaten vp by a greyhounde that came in: The Cooke when he sawe y e venison denoured, lamēted & wept pitifully. And be­cause supper time approched nigh, whē as he should be reproued of to much negligēce, he tooke a halter to hāge him self, but his wife perceiuing wherabout he went, [Page] canne incontinently to him, and taking the halter in both her handes stopped him of his purpose, saiynge: O husband, are you out of your wittes? what intende you to doo? Sée you not a present remedy before your eyes ministred vnto you by deuine prouidence? I pray you husband follow my coūsell, carrie this straūge Asse out into some secret place and kill him, whiche done cut of one of his sides, and sauce it well like the side of the buck, and sette it before your maister. Then the Cooke hearing the counsell of his wife, was well pleased to slea me, to saue him selfe: And to bringe his purpose to passe, he went to the whetstone to sharpe his tooles ac­cordingly.

The ninth Booke of Lucius Apuleius of the Golden Asse.

¶Howe Apuleius saued him selfe from the Cooke by breaking his halter and of other thinges that happened.

Cap. 37.

IN this maner the traiterous Cooke, prepared him selfe to slea me: And when he was ready with his kniues to doo his feate, I deuised with my selfe how I might escape the present perill, and I did not long delaie: for incontinentlye I brake the halter wherewith I was tied, and flinging my héeles hither & thither to saue my selfe, at length I ran hastely into a parlour wheare the maister of the house was feastinge with the priestes of the Goddesse Siria, and disquieted all the companie, throwinge downe their meates and drinkes from the table. The maister of the house dis­maide [Page 88] at my great disorder, cōmaunded one of his ser­uauntes to take me vp, and locke me in some stronge place to the ende I might disturbe them no more. But I litle regarded my imprisonment, consideringe that I was happely deliuered frō the handes of the traiterous Cooke: Howbeit fortune, or the fatall disposition of the diuine prouidence, whiche neither can be auoyded by wise counsell, neither yet by any holesome remedy in­uented a new torment, for by & by a yonge ladde came running into the parlor, all trembling and declared to the maister of the house, that there was a madde dogge running about in the stréetes, whiche had done muche harme, for he had bitten many greyhoūdes and horses in the Inne by: and he spared neither man nor beast, for there was one Mytilius a mulettour, Ephestio a cooke, Hyppatauius a chamberlaine, and Appolonius a Phisicien, who (thinking to chase away y c madde dogge) were cruelly wounded by him, in so muche that many horses and other beastes infected with the venim of his poisonous téeth became madde likewise, whiche thinge caused them all at the table greatly to feare, and thin­king that I had bene bitten in like sorte, came out with speares, clubbes, and pitchforkes purposing to slea me, and I had vndoubtedly bene slaine had I not by and by crepte into a chamber, where my maister intended to lodge that night. Then they closed and locked fast the doores about me, and kept the chamber rounde, til such time as they thought that the pestilent rage of madnes had killed me, when I was thus shutte in the chamber alone, I laide me downe vpon the bedde to sléepe, con­sidering it was long time past, since I lay and toke my reste as a man doth, when morninge was come, & that I was well reposed, I rose vp lustely. In y meane sea­son [Page] they which watched about the chāber all night rea­soned with them selues in this sorte, verely (ꝙ one) I thinke the Asse be dead, so thinke I (ꝙ an other) for the outragious poisō of madnes hath killed him, but being thus in diuers opinions of a poore Asse, they looked tho­rough a creuis, & espied me standinge still, sober & quiet in the middle of the chāber, then thei opened the dores, and came towardes me to proue whether I were gētle or no. Emongst whome there was one, which in my o­pinion was sent from heauen to saue my life, that wil­led the other to set a basen of fayre water before me, & therby thei should know whether I were madde or no, for if I did drinke without feare as I accustomed to doo it was a signe that I was whole & in mine Assy wittes, where contrary if I did fly & abhorre the tast of the wa­ter, it was an euident proufe of my madnes, whiche thing he said y he had red in auncient & credible bookes, wherupon they toke a basin of cléere water & presented it before me, but I, as sone as I perceaued the holsome water of my life, ranne incontinently & thrustinge my head into the basin, drāke as though I had bene greatly a thirst, then they stroked me with their handes, and bowed mine eares, & toke me by the halter to proue my paciēce, but I taking eche thing in good part, disproued their madde presumption by my méekenes & gentle be­hauiour: when I was thus deliuered from this double daūger, the next day I was laded againe with the god­desse Siria, & other trumpery, and was brought out in­to the way with trumpets & cymballes, to begge in the villages, which we passed by according to our custome. And after that we had gonne thorough a fewe townes and castels, we fortuned to come to a certaine village, which was builded (as the inhabitātes there affirmed) [Page 89] vpon the foundation of a famous & auncient Citie. And after that we had turned into the next Inne, we harde of a pretie iest committed in the towne there, whiche I would that you should know likewise.

¶Of the deceipte of a woman, which made her husband Coocko [...]le.

Cap. 38.

THere was a man dwelling in y towne very poore that had nought but that whiche he gotte by the labor & trauell of his handes: his wife was a faire yonge woman, but very lasciuious & giuen to the appe­tite & desire of the flesh: it fortuned on a day that while this poore man was gonne betimes in the morninge to the fielde about his busines, according as he accustomed to doo, his wiues louer secretely came into his house to haue his pleasure with her. And so it chaunced that du­ring the time that he & she were busking together, her husbande suspectinge no suche matter, returned home praising the chast continencie of his wife, in y he found his doores faste closed, wherfore as his custome was, he wistled to declare his cōming home: thē his crafty wife reddy w t present shiftes caught her louer & couered him vnder a great tubbe stāding in a corner: and therwith­al she opened the doore, blaming her husbād in this sort. Cōmest y home so euery day with empty handes? and bringest nothing to maintaine our house? thou hast no regard for our profite, neither prouidest for any meate or drinke, where as I poore wretch doo nothing day and night but occupie my selfe with spinning, & yet my tra­uell will skarse finde the candels whiche we spende. O how much more happy is my neighbour Daphue, y ea­teth and drinketh at her pleasure, and passeth the time with her amorous louers accordinge to her desire.

[Page] What is the matter (ꝙ her husbād) though our maister hath made holyday at the fieldes, yet thinke not but y I haue made prouision for our supper, doest thou not sée this tubbe that kéepeth a place here in our house in vaine, and doth vs no seruice? beholde I haue solde it to a good fellow (that is here present) for fiue pence, wher­fore I pray thée lende me thy hande that I may deliuer him y tubbe: His wife (hauing inuented a present shift) laughed on her husband, saying: what marchāt I pray you haue you brought home hither, to fetch away my tubbe for fiue pence, for which I poore woman y sitte al day alone in my house haue bene proffred so often seuē: Her husband being well apaide at her woordes, demaū ­ded what he was that had bought the tubbe: looke (ꝙ she) he is gone vnder to sée where it be sound or no, thē her louer which was vnder the tubbe, began to stirre & rustle him selfe, and because his woordes might agrée to the woordes of the woman, he saide: Dame will you haue me tell the truth: this tubbe is rottē and krakt as me séemeth on euery side. And then he turned him selfe to her husband, saying: I pray you honest man light a candell, y I may make the tubbe cleane within, to sée if it be for my purpose or no, for I doo not minde to caste away my money wilfully: He, by & by (being made a ve­ry Oxe) lighted a cādle, saying: I pray you good brother put not your selfe to so much paine, lette me make the tubbe cleane and ready for you, wherupon he put of his coate and crept vnder the tubbe to rubbe away the filth from the sides. In the meane season this minion louer cast his wife on the bottome of the tubbe, and had his pleasure with her ouer his head, and as he was in the middest of his pastime, he turned his head on this side, and that side, finding fault with this and with that, til [Page 90] as they had both ended their busines, when as he deli­uered seuen pence for the tubbe: and caused the good mā him selfe to carry it on his backe to his Inne.

¶Howe the Preestes of the goddesse Syria, were taken and putte in pryson, and howe Apuleius was solde to a Baker.

Cap. 39.

AFter that we had tarried there a fewe daies at the coste and charges of the whole village, and had gotten muche money by our diuination, and pronostication of thinges to come: The Préestes of the Goddesse Siria inuented a newe meane to picke mens purses, for they had certayne lottes, whereon writen: So vsed feigned Egiptiās of lat [...] yeres in Englād▪ Coniuncti terram proscindunt boues vt in futu­rum laeta germinent sara: that is to say: The oxen tied and yoked together: doo plowe the grounde to the intent it may bringe foorth his encrease: And by these kinde of lottes thei de­ceaued many of the simple sorte: for if one had demaū ­ded whether he shoulde haue a good wife or no, they woulde say that his lotte did testifie the same, that he should be tied and yoked to a good womā, and haue in­crease of children: If one demaūded whether he should by landes and possession, they said that he shoulde haue much ground that should yéelde his increase: If one de­maunded whether he shoulde haue a good & prosperous voyage, thei said he should haue good successe, & it should be for the encrease of his profite: If one demaūded whe­ther he should vanquish his enemies, & preuaile in pur­suite of théeues, they saide that his enemies should be tied and yoked to him: and his pursuite after théeues should be prosperous. Thus by the tellinge of fortunes they gathered a great quantitie of money, but when [Page] thei were weary with geuing of answeares, thei draue me away before them the nexte night, thorough a lane whiche was more daungerous and stony then the way which we went the night before: for on y e one side were Quagmyres & foggy marshes, on the other side were falling trenches and ditches, wherby my legges failed me, in such sorte that I coulde scarse come to the plaine fielde pathes. And behold by and by a great company of the inhabitantes of the towne, armed with weapons, and on horsebacke ouertoke vs, and incontinently ar­restinge Philebus and his Préestes, tied them by the neckes and beate them cruelly, callinge them Théeues and robbers, and after that they had manakled their handes: Showe vs (ꝙ they) the cuppe of Golde, which (vnder the colour of your solempne Religion) ye haue taken away, and nowe ye thinke to escape in the night without punishment for your fact, by and by one came towardes me, and thrusting his hande into the bosome of the Goddesse Siria, brought out the cuppe whiche they had stole: How be it for all their robbery whiche appeared euident and plaine, they woulde not be con­founded nor abashed, but iestyng & laughinge out the matter, gan say: Is it reason maisters that you should thus rigorously intreate vs, and threaten for a small trifling cuppe, which the mother of the Goddesse deter­mined to giue to her sister for a present, howbeit for all their lies and cauillations, they were carried backe to the towne and put in prison by the inhabitantes, who takinge the cuppe of golde, and the Goddesse whiche I bare, did put and consecrate them emongst the treasure of the Temple: the next day I was carried to the mar­kette to be solde, and my price was set at seuen pence, more then Philebus gaue for me. There fortuned to [Page 91] passe by a Baker of the next village, who after that he had bought a great deale of corne, bought me likewise to carry it home, and when he had well laded me ther­with, he draue me thorough a thorny and daungerous way to his bakehouse, there I sawe a great companie of horses that went in the mill day and night grinding of corne, but least I shoulde be discouraged at the first, my mayster entertayned me well, for the firste day I did nothinge but fare deintely, how be it suche mine ease and felicitie did not longe endure: for the next day followynge I was tied to the mill betimes in the mor­ninge with my face couered, to the ende in turninge and windinge so often one waie, I shoulde not become giddy but kéepe a certayne course, but although when I was a man I had séene many suche horsemilles, and knewe well inough how they shoulde be turned, yet feigninge my selfe ignorant of suche kinde of toyle, I stoode still and would not goe, whereby I thought I shoulde be taken from the mill as an Asse vnapt, and put to some other light labour, or else to be dryuen in­to the fieldes to pasture: but my subtiltie did me small good, for by and by when the mill stoode still, the ser­uauntes came about me, cryinge and beatinge me for­warde, in such sorte that I could not staye to aduise my selfe, wherby all the cōpany laughed to sée so sodaine a chaunge, when a good parte of the day was past, that I was not able to endure any lenger, they tooke of my harnesse, and tied me to the maunger, but although my bones were wery, and that I néeded to refresh my selfe with reste and prouender, yet I was so curious that I did greatly delight to behold the bakers art, in so much that I coulde not eate nor drinke while I looked on. O good Lorde what a sorte of poore slaues were there, [Page] some had their skinne blacke and blew: some had their backes striped with lashes, some were couered with rugged sackes, some had their members onely hidden: some ware suche ragged cloutes y you might perceaue all their naked bodies, some were marked and burned in the forehedes with hote yrons, some had their heare halfe clipped, some had lockes on their legges, some were vgly and euill fauored, that thei coulde skarse sée, their eies & faces were so blacke & dimme with smoke, like those which fight together in the sandes, & knowe not where they strike by reason of duste: And some had their faces all mealy, but howe shoulde I speake of the horses my compaignions, how they being old & weake, thrust their heades into the maunger: they had their neckes all wounded and worne away: thei ratled their nosethrilles with a continuall cough, their sides were bare with their harnesse and great trauell, their ribbes were broken with beatinge, their hoofes were battred broade with incessant labour, and their skinne rugged by reason of their lanknes: When I saw this dreadfull sight, I greatly begāne to feare, least I should come to the like state: And consideringe with my selfe the good fortune which I was sometime in when I was a man, I greatly lamēted holding downe my head, and would eate no meate, but I sawe no comfort or consolation of my euill fortune, sauinge that my minde was some­what recreated to heare and vnderstande what euery man said, for they neyther feared nor doubted my pre­sence: At that time I remēbred how Homer the diuine authour of auncient Poetry, described him to be a wise man, which had traueled diuers countreis and na [...]iōs, wherfore I gaue great thakes to my Assy fourme, in y by y meane I had séene the experiēce of many thinges, [Page 92] and was become more wise (not withstāding the great misery and labour which I dayly susteined) but I will tell you a pretie iest, which cometh now to my remem­braunce, to the intent your eares may be delighted in bearinge the same.

¶How Apuleius was handled by the Bakers wife, which was a harlotte.

Cap. 40.

THe Baker whiche bought me was an honest and sober man, but his wife was the moste pestilent woman in all the worlde, in so much that he en­dured many miseries and afflictions with her, so that [...] my selfe did secretely pitie his estate, and bewaile his euill fortune: for she had not one faulte alone, but all the mischiefes that could be deuised, she was crabbed, cruell, lasciuious, dronken, obstinate, niggishe, coue­tous, riotous in filthy expenses, an ennemie to faithe and chastitie, a despiser of all the Goddes whome other did honour, one that affirmed that she had a God by her selfe, whereby she deceaued all men, but especially her poore husbande, one that abandoned her body with continuall whoredome: This mischeuous queane ha­ted me in suche sorte, There is no mallice, aboue the mallice of a woman. that she commaunded euery day before she was vp, that I should be put in the mill to grinde: and the firste thinge whiche she woulde doo in the morninge was to sée me cruelly beaten, and that I shoulde grinde when the other beastes did féede and take reste: when I sawe that I was so cruelly handled, she gaue me occasion to learne her conuersation and life, for I sawe oftentime a yonge man, whiche would priuilyg [...]e into her chamber, whose face I did greatly desire to sée, but I coulde not by reason mine eies were [Page] couered euery day. And verely if I had bene frée and at libertie I woulde haue discouered all her abhomina­tion: she had an olde woman, a bawde, a messenger of mischiefe that dayly haunted to her house, and made good chéere with her, to the vtter vndoinge and impo­uerishment of her husband, but I that was greatly of­fended with the negligence of Fotis, who made me an Asse, in stéede of a birde, did yet comfort my self by this onely meane, in that to the miserable deformitie of my shape, I had longe eares, whereby I mighte here all things that was done: On a day I harde the old baude say to the Bakers wife: Dame you haue chosen (with­out my counsell) a yonge man to your louer, who as me séemeth is dull, fearfull, without any grace, & dasterd­ly coucheth at the frowning lookes of your odious hus­bande, whereby you haue no delight nor pleasure with him: Thus old baudes seweth for yōg knaues. how farre better is the yonge man Philesiterus, who is comely, beautiful, in the flowre of his youth, li­berall, courteous, valiant, and stoute against the dili­gent pries and watches of your husbande, woorthy to embrase the woorthiest dames of this countrie, and woorthy to were a crowne of golde, for one parte that he plaide to one that was ielous ouer his wife: Herken how it was, and then iudge the diuersitie of these twoo louers, knowe you one Barbarus a Senator of our towne, whome the vulgar people call likewise Scor­pion for his seueritie of manners. This Barbarus had a gentle woman to his wife, whome he caused dayly to be enclosed within his house with diligent custody, thē the Bakers wife said I know her very wel, for we two dwelled together in one house: Then you know (ꝙ the old woman) the whole tale of Philesiterus. No verely (saide she) but I greatly desire to know it: therefore I [Page 93] pray you mother tell me the whole story. By and by the olde woman whiche knew well to babble, beganne to tell as followeth.

¶How Barbarus beyng ielous ouer his wife, commaun­ded that she shoulde be kepte close in his howse, and what happened.

Cap. 41.

YOu shall vnderstād that on a day this Barbarus preparing him selfe to ride abroade, and willing to kéepe the chastitie of his wife (whom he so wel loued) alone to him selfe called his man Myrmex (whose faith he had tried and proued in many thinges) and se­cretely committed to him the custody of his wife, wil­linge him that he should threaten, that if any man did but touch her with his finger as he passed by, he would not onely put him in pryson, What is more worse then a ielous person. and binde him hande and foote, but also cause him to be put to death, or els to be famished for lacke of sustenaunce, whiche woordes he confirmed by Othe of all the Goddes in heauen, and so he departed away: When Barbarus was gone, Myr­mex beinge greatly astonied at his maisters threat­ninges, woulde not suffer his mistris to goe abroade, but as she satte all day a spinninge, he was so carefull that he satte by her, when nighte came he wente with her to the baynes, holdinge her by the garment, so faithfull he was to fulfill the commaundement of his maister: How be it the beautie of this noble Ma­tron coulde not be hidden from the burninge eyes of Philesiterus, who considering her great chastitie, and howe she was diligently kepte by Myrmex, thought it impossible to haue his purpose, yet (endeuoringe by all kinde of meanes to enterprise the matter, and remem­bringe [Page] the fragilitie of man, Golde cōquereth all thinges. that might be entised and corrupted with money, since as by Golde the adamant gates may be opened) on a day when he founde Myr­mex alone he discouered his loue, desiring him to show his fauour (otherwise he should certainly die) with as­surance that he néede not to feare when as he might priuily be lette in and out in the night, without know­ledge of any person. When he thought, with these, and other gentle woordes, to allure and pricke forward the obstinate minde of Myrmex, he showed him glittering golde in his hande, saying: that he would giue his mi­stris twēty crounes, and him tenne, but Myrmex hea­ringe these woordes was greatly troubled, abhorringe in his minde to cōmitte so wicked a mischiefe: wherfore he stopped his eares, & turning his head departed away: howbeit the glistering h [...]w of these crownes could ne­uer out of his minde, but being at home he séemed to sée the money before his eies, which was so woorthy a pray wherfore poore Myrmex being in diuers opinions could not tell what to doo, for on the one side he cōsidered the promisse which he made to his maister, and the punish­ment whiche should ensue if he did contrary. On the other side he thought of the gayne, & the passinge plea­sure of the crownes of Golde, in the ende the desire of the money did more preuaile then the feare of death, for the beautie of the slourishinge crownes did so sticke in his minde, that where the menaces of his maister compelled him to tarry at home, the pestilent auarice of the Golde egged him out a doores, wherfore putting all shame aside without further delay, he declared the whole matter to his mistris, Women easely allured by giftes. who according to the na­ture of women, when she harde him speake of so great a summe, she bounde Chastitie in a stringe, and gauè [Page 94] authorite to Myrmex to rule her in that case. Myrmex seing the intent of his mistresse, was very glad, and for great desier of the golde, Here gold brake faith and trust. he ran hastely to Philesiterus declaring that his mistresse was cōsented to his mind, wherefore he demaunded the gold which he promised: Then incōtinentlie Philesiterus deliuered him tenne crownes: and when night came, Myrmex brought him disguised into his mistris chamber. About midnight when he and she weare naked together, making sacri­fice vnto the Goddesse Venus, beholde, her husbande (contrary to their expectation) came and knocked at the doore, callinge with a loude voice his seruaunt Myrmex: Whose longe tariyng, encreased the suspitiō of his maister, in such sorte, that he threatned to beate Myrmex cruelly: but he being troubled with feare, and driuen to his latter shiftes, excused the matter, saiynge that he could not finde y kaie: by reason it was so dark. In the meane season Philesiterus heatinge the noyse at the doore, slipt on his coate, and priuily ranne out of the chamber. When Myrmex had opened the doore to his maister that threatned terribly, and had let him in, he went into the chamber to his wife: In the meane while Myrmex let out Philesiterus, & barred the doores fast, and went again to bedde. The next morning, Haste is no [...] good. whē Barbarus awaked, he perceiued twoo vnknowen slip­pers liynge vnder his bedde, whiche Philesiterus had forgotten when he went away. Then he conceaued a great suspition and ielousie in his minde, howbeit, he would not discouer it to his wife neither to any other persone, but putting secretly the slippers in his bosom, commaunded his other seruauntes to binde Myrmex incontinently, and to bring him bounde to the Iustice after him, thinking verely that by y meane of the slip­pers [Page] he might boult out the matter. It fortuned that while Barbarus went toward the Iustice in a furie & rage, and Myrmex fast bounde, followed him wéeping, not because he was accused before his maister, but by reason he knewe his owne conscience gilty. Behold, by aduenture Philesiterus (goinge about earnest busines) fortuned to méete with them by the waie, who fearing the matter which he cōmitted the night before, & doub­ting least it should be knowen, did sodenly inuente a meane texcuse Myrmex, for he ran vpō him & beate him about the head with his fistes cruelly, saiynge: Ah mis­chieuous verlet that thou art, and periured knaue. It were a good déede if the Goddesse and thy maister here, would put the to death, for thou art woorthie to be im­prisoned, and to weare out these irons, that stalest my slippers awaie when thou warest at the baynes yester night. Barbarus hearing these woordes, returned incō ­tinently home, & called his seruaunt Myrmex, cōmaū ­ding him to deliuer y slippers againe to y right owner.

The old woman had scars finished her tale, whē the Bakers wife gan saie: Verely she is blessed & most bles­sed, that hath the fruition of so worthie a louer, but as for me poore miser, I am fallen into y handes of a cow­ard, who is not onlie aferde of my husbande, but also of euery clap of the mill, and dares doo nothing before the blinde face of yonder scabbed Asse. Then the old womā answered, I promise you certeinly, if you will, you shal haue this yong man at your pleasure, and therewithall when night came, A harlot spen­deth the sub­stance of her husbande. she departed out of her chamber. In the meane season, the Bakers wife made ready a sup­per with abundance of wyne, & exquisite fare: So that there lacked nothing but the cōming of the yong man: For her husbād supped at one of her neighbours house. [Page 95] When time came that my harnesse should be taken of & that I should rest my self, I was not so ioyful of my li­bertie, as whē y vaile was takē frō mine eies, I should sée all y abhominatiō of this mischieuous queane. Whē night was come & the Sunne gone downe, behold y old Baude & the yong mā, who séemed to me but a child, by reason he had no bearde, came to y doore: Thē y Bakers wife kissed him a thousand times, & receiuing him cur­teously, placed him down at the table: but he had scarce eaten the first morsell, when y good man (cōtrary to his wifes expectation) returned home, for she thought he would not haue come so sone: But lorde how she cursed him, praiyng God y he might breake his neck at y first entry in. In the meane season, she caught her louer and thrust him into y bynne where she boulted her flowre, and dissimuling the matter, finely came to her husbād, demaunding why he came home so soone. I could not a­bide (ꝙ he) to sée so great a mischiefe & wicked fact which my neighbours wife committed, but I must runne a­way: Oh harlot as she is, how she hath dishonoured her husbande. I sweare by this Goddesse Ceres, that if I had not séene it with mine eies, I woulde neuer haue beleued it. His wife desirous to knowe the matter, de­sired him to tell what she had doone: Then he accorded to the request of his wife, As quicke of sight abroade as linx: but blin [...] at home. and ignoraunt of the state of his owne house, declared the mischaunce of an other. You shall vnderstande (ꝙ he) that the wyfe of the Ful­ler my compaignion, who séemed to be a wyse and chast woman, regardinge her owne honestie, and the pro­fite of her house, was sound this night with her knaue. For whyle we wente to washe our handes, he and shee weare togeather: Who beynge troubled by our presence ranne into a corner, where she thrust him into [Page] a mew made with twigges, apointed to laie on clothes to make them white with the smooke and fume of brim­stone. Then she sat downe with vs at the table to co­lour the matter: In the meane season the yong man co­uered in the mewe, could not forbeare snysing, by rea­son of the smooke of the brymstone. The good man thin­king it had bene his wife that snysed, cried Christ help: But when he snysed more and more, he suspected the matter, and willinge to knowe who it was, rose from the table, and went to the mewe where he founde the yong man well nte dead with smooke. When he vnder­stoode the whole matter, he was so inflamed with an­ger, that he called for a swoorde to kil him: and vndoub­tedly he had killed him, had not I restrained his violēt handes from his purpose, assuring him that his enemy would die with the force of the brymstone without the harme which he should doo: Howbeit, my woords would not appease his furie, but as necessitée required, we tooke the yonge man well nie chooked, & carried him out at the doores. In the meane season, I coūseled his wife to absent her selfe at her neighbours houses, til the co­ler of her husbande was pacified, least he should be mo­ued against her, as he was against the yong man. And so being wery of their supper, I foorthwith returned home. Abhorring such crimes in others [...] they vse them selues. When the Baker had tolde this tale, his impu­dent wyfe began to curse and abhorre the wife of the Fuller, and generally all other wiues which habandō their bodies with any other then with their owne hus­bandes, breaking the faith & bonde of mariage, wherby she saide they were woorthy to be burned aliue: But knowing her owne gilty conscience and proper whor­dom, least her louer should be hurt, liyng in the bynne, she willed her husbande to goe to bedde, but he hauing [Page 96] eatē nothing, said that he would suppe before he went to rest: wherfore she was compelled maugre her eyen, to sette suche thinges on the table as she had prepared for her louer. But I, considering the great mischiefe of this wicked queane, deuised with my self how I might reueale the matter to my maister, and by kicking away the couer of the binne (where like a snaile the yonge mā was couched) to make her whoredome apparant and knowē, at length I was aided by y prouidence of God, for there was an olde man to whome the custodie of vs was committed, that draue me poore Asse, and the other horses the same time to the water to drinke, then had I good occasion ministred to reuenge the iniurie of my master, for as I passed by I perceaued the fingers of the yonge man vpon the side of the binne, and liftinge vp my héeles I spurned of the fleshe with the force of my hoofes, whereby he was compelled to crie out, and to throwe downe the binne on the groūd, Whoredome wilbe knowen▪ & so the whore­dome of the Bakers wife was knowen and reuealed. The Baker seing this, was litle moued at the dishone­stie of his wife, but he toke the yonge man tremblinge for feare by the hande, & with cold and curteise woordes spake in this sorte: Feare not my sonne nor thinke that I am so barbarous or cruell person, that I would sti [...]e thée vp with the smoke of Sulphur, as our neighbour accustometh, nor I wil not punish thée according to the rigor of the lawe Iulia, whiche cōmaundeth that adul­terers should be put to death: No no, I wil not execute my crueltie against so fayre and comely a yonge mā as you be, but we wil deuide our pleasure betwéene vs, by liynge all thrée in one bedde, to the ende there may be no debate nor dissentiō betwéene vs, but that either of vs may be cōtented, for I haue alwaies liued with my [Page] his necke appeared to her in the night, declaringe the whole circumstance of his death, and how by inchaunt­ment he was descended to hell, whiche caused her to thinke that her father was dead. After that she had la­mented a good space, & was somewhat comforted by the seruauntes of the house, and when nine daies were ex­pired, as inheritrix to her father, she solde away all the substance of the house, whereby the goodes chaunsed in­to diuers mens handes.

¶How Apuleius after the Baker was hanged, was solde to a Gardiner, and what dreadfull thinges happened.

Cap. 42.

THere was a poore gardiner emongst y e rest, which bought me for the summe of fiftie pence, whiche séemed to him a great price, but he thought to gaine it againe by the continuall trauell of my bodie: The matter requireth to tell likewise, how I was hād­led in his seruice. This gardiner accustomed to driue me euery morning laded w t herbes to the next village, & when he had solde his herbes, he would mount vpon my backe and returne to the gardein, & while he dig­ged the grounde, and watred the herbes, and wente about other busines, I did nothing but repose my selfe with great ease, but when winter approched, with sharpe haile, raine, and frostes, and I standing alwaies vnder a hedge side, was welnie killed vp with colde, and my maister was so poore that he had no lodginge for him selfe, much lesse he had any litter or place to co­uer me withal, for he him self alwaies lay vnder a litle roofe, shadowed and couered with bowes. In the mor­ninge when I rose, I founde my hoofes shriueled toge­ther with colde, & vnable to passe vpon the sharpe yse, & [Page 98] frostie myre, neither could I fill my belly with meate as I accustomed to doo, for my maister & I supped toge­ther and had both one fare: Howbeit it was very slēder since as we had nothing els sauinge old and vnsauory sallets, which were suffred to grow for séede, like long broomes, and that had loste all their swéete sape & iuice. Poore fare and poore lodginge in time of ne­cessitie is good. It fortuned on a day that an honest mā of the next vil­lage was benighted, and constrained by reason of the raine to lodge (very lagged and wery) in our garden, where although he was but meanly receaued, yet it ser­ued wel inough considering time & necessitie. This ho­nest man to recōpense our entertainment, promised to giue my master some corne, oile, & two bottels of wine: wherefore my maister not delaiyng the matter, laded me with sackes & bottels, and rode to the towne which was seuen miles of, when we came to the honest mans house, he entertained & feasted my maister excéeding­ly, and it fortuned while they eate and dranke toge­ther, as signe of great amitie there chaunsed a straūge and dreadfull case: Terrible tokēs. for there was a henne which ranne kacklinge about the yarde, as though she woulde haue laide an egge: The goodman of the house perceauinge her, saide: O good and profitable pullet that féedest vs euery day with thy fruicte, thou séemest as though thou wouldest giue vs some pittance for our dinner; Ho boy put the pannier in the corner that the henne may lay. Then the boye did as his maister commaunded, but the henne forsakinge the pannier came towardes her maister, and laid at his féete not an egge whiche euery man knoweth, but a chickin with feathers, clawes and eyes, whiche incontinently ranne péepinge after his dame. Suche thinges happen before death and dreadfull chaū ­ses, By and by, happened a more straunge thinge whiche would cause any man to abhorre, vnder [Page] the table where they satte the grounde opened, & there appeared a great well and fountaine of bloudde, in so much that the droppes thereof sprinkled about the ta­ble: At the same time while they wōdred at this dread­full sight, one of the seruauntes came runninge out of the seller, and tolde that all the wine was boiled out of the vesselles, as though there had bene some great fire vnder: By and by a Wesell was séene that drewe in­to the house a dead Serpent, and out of the mouth of a shéepeherdes dogge leaped a liue frogge, and imme­diatly after one brought woorde that a Ramme had strangled the same dogge with one bitte: All these thinges that happened astonied the good man of the house, and the residewe that were present, in so muche they could not tell what to doo, or with what sacrafice to appease the anger of the Goddes. While euery man was thus striken in feare: beholde one brought woorde to the goodman of the house, The thinge which the said straunge tokens foreshewed. that his thrée sonnes who had bene brought vp in good litrature, and endewed with good manners were dead, for they thrée had great acquaintance and auncient amitie with a poore man, which was their neighbour and dwelled harde by thē. And nexte vnto him dwelled an other yonge man ve­rie riche bothe in landes and goodes, but bendyng from the race of his progenies dissentions, and rulinge him selfe in the towne accordinge to his owne will. This yonge royster did mortally hate this poore man, in so muche that he woulde kill his shéepe, steale his Oxen, Might, ouerco­meth right. and spoyle his corne and other fruictes, before the time of ripenes, yet was he not contented with this, but he woulde encroche vppon the poore mans grounde and clayme all his heritage as his owne: The poore man whiche was very simple and fearfull, séeinge all his [Page 99] goodes taken awaye by the auarice of the riche, called together and assembled many of his fréendes to showe them the metes and boundes of his lande, to the ende he might haue but so muche grounde of his fathers he­ritage as mighte burie him. Emongest whome he founde these thrée bretherne as fréendes to helpe and ayde him in his aduersitie and tribulation: How be it the presence of these honest Citizins, coulde in no wise perswade him to leaue his extorte power, no nor yet to cause any temperaunce of his tongue, but the more they wente aboute with gentle woordes to tell him his faultes, the more woulde he frette and fume, swearinge all the Othes vnder God, that he litle re­garded the presence of the whole Citie, whereupon in­continently he commaunded his seruantes to take the poore manne by the eares, and carrie him out of his grounde, whiche greatly offended all the standers by: Then one of the brethern spake vnto him somewhat boldely, sayinge: It is but a foly to haue suche affiance in your richesse, whereby you should vse your tirannie againste the poore, The lawe re­dresseth the poore mās caus [...] when as the lawe is common for all men, and a redresse may be had to suppresse your in­solence.

These woordes chased him more then the burninge oyle, or flaming brimstone, or scourge of whippes, sai­yng: y they should be al hanged & their lawes too, before he would be subiect to any person: and therewithall he called out his bandogges, & great mastiffes, whiche ac­customed to eate the karrein & karkeis of dead beastes in the fieldes, and to sette vpon suche as pāssed by the way, then he cōmaunded they should be put vpō all the assistaunce to teare them in pieces, who assone as they [Page] harde the hisse of their maisters, ranne fiercely vppon them, inuading them on euery side, in so much that the more they flied to escape away, the more cruell and ter­rible were the dogges. It fortuned emongest all this fearfull companie, that in running, the yongest of the thrée brethren, stumbled at a stone, and fell downe to the grounde: Then the dogges came vpon him and tare him in pieces with their teethe, whereby he was com­pelled to crie out for succour: His other twoo brethren hearing his lamentable voice, ranne towardes him to helpe him, casting their clokes about their left armes, tooke vp stones to chase away the dogges, but all was in vaine, for they might sée their brother dismembred in euerie part of his body: Who liyng at the very point of death, desired his brethren to reuenge his death a­gainst the cruell tyrant: And therewithall he gaue vp the ghost. The other twoo brethern perceiuing so great a murder, and neglecting their owne liues, like despe­rat persons dressed them selues against the tyrant, and threw a great nomber of stones at him, but the bloudy thiefe exercised to such & like mischiefes, tooke a speare & thrust him cleane thorough the bodie: Howbeit he fell not downe to the grounde. For the speare that came out at his backe ranne into the yearth and sustained him vp, by and by came one of this Tirantes seruaūts the most sturdiest of the rest to helpe his maister, who at his first coming, toke vp a stone, & threw at the third brother, but by reason the stone ranne alonge his arme it did not hurt him, whiche chaunsed otherwise then all mens expectation was, by and by the yonge man feig­ning that his arme was greatly wounded, spake these woordes vnto the cruel bloudsucker: Now maist thou, [...]hou wretche triumphe vpon the destruction of all our [Page 100] family, nowe haste thou fedde thy insatiable crueltie with the bloud of thrée brethern, nowe maiste thou re­ioyse at the fall of vs Citizins, yet thinke not but that howe farre so euer thou doest remoue and extende the boundes of thy lande, thou shalt haue some neighbour, but howe greatly am I sory in that I haue loste mine arme wher withall I minded to cut of thy head, when he had spoken these woordes: The furious thiefe drewe out his dagger, & running vpon the yong man thought verely to haue slaine him, but it chaunsed otherwise: For the yonge man resisted him stoutly, & in bucklinge together by violēce wrested the dagger out of his hād: whiche done, he killed the riche thiefe with his owne weapon, Nothing worse then to fall in­to the hādes of enemies. and to the intent the yonge man would escape the handes of the seruauntes, whiche came runninge to assiste their maister, with the same dagger he cutte his owne throate. These thinges were signified by the straunge and dreadful wonders which fortuned in the house of the good man, who after he had harde these so­rowfull tidinges coulde in no wise wéepe, so farre was he stroken with dolor, but presently takinge his knife wherewith he cutte his cheése and other meate before, he cutte his owne throate like wise, in suche sorte that he fell vpon the borde and embrued the table with the streames of his bloud in most miserable manner: Here­by was my maister the gardiner depriued of his hope, and paying for his dinner the watry teares of his eies, mounted vpon my backe, and so we wente homewarde the same way as we came.

¶How Apueeius was founde by his shadow.

Cap. 43.

AS we passed by the way we mette with a tale soul­diour (for so his habite and countenaunce declared) [Page] who with proude and arrogant woordes, spake to my maister in this sorte: Quorium vacuum ducis à suum? My maister somwhat astonied at the straunge sightes which he saw before, and ignorant of the latine tongue rode on & spake neuer a woorde: The souldiour vnable to refraine his insolence & offended at his silence, strake him on the shoulders as he satte vpon my backe, then my maister gently made answeare that he vnderstoode not what he saide, whereat the Souldiour angerly de­maunded againe whither he rode with his Asse: Mary (ꝙ he) to the nexte Citie: but I (ꝙ the Souldiour) haue néede of his helpe, to carry the trusses of our Capi­tayne from yender Castell, and therewithall he toke me by the halter, and woulde violently haue taken me away: but my maister wipinge away the bloudde of the blowe which he receaued of the Souldiour, desired him gentely and cinily to take some pitie vppon him, and to lette him departe with his owne, swearyng and affirminge that his slowe. Asse, we [...]nie dead with sick­nes, coulde skarse carry a fewe handfulles of herbes to the nexte towne, much lesse he was able to beare any greater trusses: but when he saw the Souldiour would in no wise be entreated, but ready with his staffe to cleaue my maisters head, my maister fell downe at his [...]éete, vnder colour to moue him to some pitie, but when he sawe his time, he tooke the Souldiour by the legges and caste him vppon the grounde: Then he buf­feted him, thumped him, bitte him, and toke a stone and beate his face and his sides, that he could not turn [...] or defende him selfe, but onely threaten that if euer he rose he woulde choppe him in pieces. The Gardener when he harde him say so, drewe out his iauelin which he had by his side, and when he had throwen it away, [Page 101] he knockt and beatte him more cruelly then he did be­fore, in so muche that the Souldiour coulde not tell by what meanes to saue him selfe, but by feigninge that he was dead. Then my maister toke the iauelin and mounted vppon my backe, ridinge in all haste to the nexte village, hauinge no regarde to goe to his gar­den, and when he came thither, he turned into one of his fréendes house and declared all the whole matter, desiringe him to saue his life, and to hide him selfe and his Asse in some secrete place, A friēde in ad­uersitie is bet­ter then trea­sure. vntill suche time as all daunger were paste. Then his fréende not forgettinge the auncient amitie betwéene them, entertained him willingly, and drewe me vp a payre of steares into a chāber, my maister crept into a chest & lay hidden there with the couer closed faste: The Souldiour (as I after­wardes learned) rose vp as one awaked from a dron­ken sléepe, but he coulde skarse goe by reason of his woūdes: how be it at length by litle and litle thorough ayde of his staffe he came to the towne, but he woulde not declare the matter to any person, nor complaine to any iustice, least he should be accused of cowardise or dasterdnes, yet in the ende he tolde some of his cōpaig­nions of all the matter that happened, then they toke him, & caused him to be closed in some secret place, thin­kinge that beside the iniury whiche he had receaued, he should be accused of y breche of his faith, by reason of y losse of his speare, & when they had learned y signes of my master, thei wēt to search him out: at last ther was an vnfaithful neighbour y tolde them where we were, then incōtinently the Souldiours went to the Iustice, declaringe that they had lost by the way a siluer goblet of their Capitaines, and that a gardener had found it, who refusing to redeleuer y goblet, was hiddē in one of [Page] his fréendes house: by and by the Magistrates vnder­standinge the losse of the Capitaine, came to the doores where we were, and commaunded our Oste to deliuer my maister vpon paine of death: Howbeit these threat­ninges coulde not enforce him to confesse that he was within his doores, but by reason of his faithfull pro­mise, and for the saluegarde of his friende: he said, that he sawe not the gardener a great while, neither knew where he was: the souldiours saide contrary, whereby to know the verity of the mater, the Magistrates com­maunded their Sergeantes and ministers to searche euery corner of the house, but when they coulde finde neither gardi [...]er nor Asse: There was a great conten­tion betwéene the Souldiours and our Oste, for they saide we weare within the house: and he saide no, but I that was very curious to know the matter, when I harde so great a noyes, put my head out of the window to learne what the stirre and tumulte did signifie. It fortuned that one of the souldiours perceaued my sha­dowe, whereupon he beganne to crie, saying: that he had certainly séene me, then they were all gladde and came vp into the chamber and pulled me downe like a prisoner, when they had founde me they doubted no­thinge of the Gardiner, but séekinge about more nar­rowly, at length they founde him couched in a cheste. And so they brought out the poore Gardiner to the Iu­stices, who was committed immediatly to pryson, but they could neuer forbeare laughing from the time they founde me by my shadow, whereof is risen a common prouerbe: The shadowe of the Asse.

The tenth Booke of Lucius Apuleius of the Golden Asse.

¶Howe the Souldiour draue Apuleius away, and how he came to a Capitaines house: And what happened there.

Cap. 44.

THe nexte daie howe my maister the Gardiner spedde. I knewe not, but the gentle Souldiour, who was well beaten for his cowardise, ledde me to his lodging without the contradictiō of any man: Where he laded me wel, and garnished my bodie (as séemed to me) like an Asse of armes. For on the one side I bare a helmet that shined excedingly: On the other side a ter­gat that glistered more a thousand folde. And on the toppe of my burthen, he had put a longe speare, whiche thinges he placed thus gallantlie, not because he was so expert in warre, (for the Gardiner proued contrary) but to thende he might feare those whiche passed by, when they sawe such a similitude of warre. When we had gone a good part of our iourney, ouer the plain and easie fieldes, we fortuned to come to a little towne, where we lodged at a certaine Capitaines house. And there the Souldiour tooke me to one of the seruauntes, while he him selfe went towarde his Capitaine: Who had the charge of a thousand men. And when we had remained there a fewe daies, I vnderstode of a wicked and mischeuous facte committed there, A pitifull [...] of a stepdame and her sonne in lawe. whiche I haue put in wrytinge, to the [...]de you may knowe the same.

The maister of the house had a sonne instructed in good litrature, and ende [...]ed with vertuous manners, [Page] such a one as you would desire to haue the like, longe time before his mother died. And thē his father maried a newe wife, and had an other childe of the age of .xij. yéeres. This stepdame was more excellent in beantie then honestie: For she loued this yonge man her sonne in lawe, either because she was vnchast by nature, or because she was enforced by fate of stepmother, to cō ­mit so great a mischiefe. Gentle Reader, thou shalt not reade of a fable, but rather a tragedy: This womā whē her loue began first to kindle in her hart, coulde easely resist her desire and inordinate appetite, by reason of shame and feare, lest her intent should be knowē: But, after that it compassed and burned euerie parte of her brest, A thinge rooted deepe, can skars he pulled vp. she was cōpelled to yelde vnto the raginge flame of Cupid, and vnder colour of the disease and infirmiti [...] of her body, to conceale the wound of her restles mind. Euery man knoweth well the signes & tokens of loue, & the maladie conuenient to the same: Her countenance was pale, her eies sorrowfull, her knées weake, & there was no comfort in her, but continuall wéepinge & sob­bing, in so much you would haue thought that she had some spice of an ague, sauing that she wepte vnmeasu­rably. The Phisitions knewe not her disease, whē they felt the beating of her vaines, the intemperance of her beat, the sobbing sighes, and her often tossing on euery side: No, no, the conning Phisitions knewe it not, but a scholler of Venus court might easely cōiect the whole. After that she had bene long time tormented in her af­fection, and was no more able to conceale her ardent de [...]er, she caused her sonne to be called for (which woord Sonne, she would faine put awaye, if it weare not for shame): Then he nothing disobedient to the commaun­dement of his mother, with a sadde and modest coun­tenance, [Page 103] came into the chamber of his Stepdame, the mother of his brother: but she speaking neuer a woord, was in great doubt what she might doo, and coulde not tell what to saie first, by reason of shame. This yonge man suspectinge no ill, with humble curtesie demaun­ded the cause of her present disease. Then she hauinge founde an occasion to vtter her wicked intente, with wéepinge eyes and couered face, beganne bouldly to speake vnto him in this manner. Thou, thou, art the original cause of my present dolour: Thou art my com­fort and onely health, for those thy comly eyes, are so fastened within my breste, that vnlesse thou succour [...] me, I shall certainly die: Haue pitie therfore vpon me, be not the occasion of my destruction, neither lette thy conscience reclaime to offend thy father, when as thou shalt saue the life of thy mother. Moreouer, since as thou doest resemble thy fathers shape in euerie point, it geueth me cause the more to fancie thée: Nowe is mi­nistred vnto thée tyme and place: Nowe haste thou oc­casion to woorke thy will, séeing that we are alone. And it is a common saiyng:

Neuer knowen, neuer done.

This yong man troubled in his mynde, at so sodein an ill, although he abhorred to cōmit so great a crime, yet he would not cast her of with a present deniall, but warely pacified her mynde with delaie of promisse. Wherfore he promised her to doo all accordinge to her defier: And in the meane season, he willed his mother to be of good chere, and comforte her selfe, till as he might finde some conuenient tyme to come vnto her, when his father was ridden foorth: Wherwithal he got him away, frō the pestilent sight of his Stepdame. And knowing that this matter touching the ru [...]ue of all the [Page] [...] [Page 103] [...] [Page] whole house, néeded the counsell of wyse and graue persones, he went incontinently to a sage old man, and declared the whole circumstāce of the matter. VVisdome lieth in hoare headed [...]ge. The old man after long deliberatiō, thought there was no bet­ter meane to auoide y storme of cruell fortune to come, then to runne awaye. In the meane season this wicked woman impacient of her loue, and the lōg delaie of her sonne, egged her husbande to ride abroade into farre countries. And then she asked the yong man the accom­plishment of his promisse, but he to deliuer him selfe, entierly from her hādes, would finde alwaies excuses, till in the ende, she vnderstode by the messengers that came in and out, that he nothing regarded her. Then the, by howe muche she loued him before, by so much & more she hated him nowe. And by and by, she called one of her seruauntes, ready to all mischiefes: To whome she declared all her secretes. And there it was conclu­ded betwenè them twoo, that the surest waye was to kill the yong man: Whereupon this Verlet went incō ­tinentlie to buie poison, which he mingled with wine, to the intent he would giue it the yong man to drinke, and thereby presently to kill him. But while they were in deliberation howe they might offer it vnto him. Be­holde, here happened a straunge aduenture. For the yonge sonne of the woman that came from schole at noone (being very thirsty) tooke the potte wherein the poyson was mingled, and ignorāt of the hidden venym dranke a good draught thereof, whiche was prepared to kill his brother: A womā either loueth thee bur­ningly, or ha­teth the extre­mely. Whereby he presently fell downe to y groūd dead. His scholemaister seing this sodain chaūce called his mother, and all the seruauntes of the house with a loude voyce. Incontinently euerie man decla­red his opinion, touching the death of the childe: But [Page 104] the cruell woman, the onely example of stepmothers malice was nothinge moued by the bitter death of her sonne, or by her owne conscience of parracide, or by the misfortune of her house, or by the dolor of her husbande but rather deuised the destruction of all her family. For by and by she sent a messanger after her husband to tell him the great misfortune which happened after his de­parture. And when he came home the wicked woman declared that his sonne had empoisened his brother, because he would not consent to his will, and tolde him diuers other lesinges, adding in y ende that he threat­ned to kill her likewise, because she discouered the fact: Then the vnhappy father was stroken with double do­lor of the death of his twoo children, for on the one side he sawe his yonger sonne slaine before his eyes, on the other side he séemed to sée y elder condēned to die for his offence: Againe where he behelde his wife lamente in such sorte, it gaue him farther occasiō to hate his sonne more deadly, but the funeralles of his yonger sonne were skarse finished, when the olde mā the father with wéeping eyes euen at the returne from the graue, wēt to the Iustice and accused his sonne of the slaughter of his brother, & how he threatned to slea his wife, wher­by the rather at his weping and great lamentation, he moued all the Magistrates & people to pitie, in so much that without any delay, or further inquisitiō they cried all that he should be stonied to death, but the Iustices fearinge a farther inconuenience: to arise by a particu­lar vengeance, To proceede by lawe is iustice, for lawe is ve­ry iustice. and to the ende there might fortune no sedition emongst the people, praied the Decurious and other officers of the Citie, that they might procéede by examination of witnesses, and with order of Iustice ac­cordinge to the auncient custome, before the giuing of [Page] any hastie sentence, or iudgement without hearinge of the cōtrary part, like as the barbarous & cruell Tirāts accustome to vse. Otherwise they should giue an ill ex­ample to their successors, this opiniō pleased euery mā, wherfore the Senators & counselours were called, who being placed in order accordinge to their dignitie, cau­sed the accuser & defender to be brought foorth, & by the example of the Atheman law, and iudgement martial, their aduocates were commauned to plead their causes briefly, without preambles or motions of the people to pitie, The Asse spea­keth. whiche were to longe a processe: And if you de­maunde how I vnderstoode al this matter, you shal vn­derstand y I hard many declare the same, but to recite what woordes y accuser vsed in his inuectiue, what an­sweare the defendour made, the orations & pleadinges of ech partie: verely I am not able to doo, for I was fast bounde at the maunger, but as I learned & knew by o­thers, I will God willing declare vnto you: So it was ordred y after the pleadinges of both sides was ended, thei thought best to trie & boulte out the veritie by wit­nesses, all presumptions & likelyhoodes set a parte, & to cal in the seruant, who onely was reported to know al the matter, by & by the seruaunt came in, who nothing abashed at y feare of so great a iudgemēt, or at the pre­sence of y Iudges, or at his own giltie cōscience, which he, so finely feigned but with a bold coūtenance presen­ted him self before the Iustices, & confirmed the accusa­tion against the yonge man, saying: O ye Iudges, on a day whē this yonge mā lothed & hated his Stepmother he called me, desiring me to poison his brother, wherby he might reuenge him selfe, & If I would doo it, & kéepe y matter secrete, he promised to giue me a good reward for my paines, but when the yonge man perceaued y I would not accorde to his will, he threatned to slea me: [Page 105] wherupō he went him selfe & bought poison, & after tē ­pred it with wine, & then gaue it me to giue to y childe, which when I refused, he offred it to his brother w t his owne hādes. When the verlet with a trēbling counte­naunce had ended these woordes, which seemed a likely­hoode of truth, the iudgement was ended: neither was there foūd any Iudge or Counselour so mercyful to the yong mā accused as would not iudge him culpable, but y he should be put & sowen in a skinne, with a dogge, a cocke, a snake, & an Ape, accordinge to the lawe against parracides: Thus they vsed in olde time to putte suche to death, as had killed any of their kinrede. But that lawe was afterward abrogate. wherfore there wanted nothing, but (as the aūcient custome was) to put white stones & blacke, into a potte, and to take them out againe, to sée whether the yonge man accused should be acquited by iudgement or condēned, whiche was a thing irreuocable. In y meane season he was deliuered to y handes of the executioner. But there arose a sage & ancient Phisitian, a mā of good consciēce & credite thorough out all the Citie, y stopped the mouth of y potte wherin y stones were cast, saiyng: I am right gladde ye reuerende Iudges, y I am a mā of name & estimation emongst you, wherby I am accomp­ted such a one as will not suffer any person to be put to death by false & vntrue accusations, consideringe there hath bene no homicide or murder committed by this yonge man in this case, Iudges are sworne to exe­cute Iustice. neither you (beinge sworne to iudge vprightly) to be misinformed & abused by inuen­ted lies & tales: For I cānot but declare & open my con­science, least I should be founde to beare small honour & faith to the Goddes: wherefore I pray you giue eare, and I will showe you the whole truth of the matter: you shal vnderstand y this seruant which hath merited to be hāged, came one of these daies to speake with me, promising to giue me a hūdred crounes, if I would giue [Page] him a present poyson, whiche would cause a man to die sodenly, saying: that he would haue it for one that was sicke of an incurable disease, to the ende he might be de­liuered from all his torment, but I smelling his crafty and subtill fetche, and fearinge least he would worke some mischiefe withall, gaue him a drinke: but to the intent I might cléere my selfe from al daunger y might happen, I would not presently take the money, which he offred: but least any one of the crownes should lacke weight or be foūd coūtrefaite, I willed him to seale the purse wherein they were put with his manuell signe, wherby the next day we might goe together to y gold­smithe to trie them, which he did, wherfore vnderstan­ding that he was brought present before you this day, I hastely cōmaunded one of my seruantes to fetche the purse which he had sealed, & here I bring it vnto you to sée whether he will denie his owne signe or no:and you may easely coniect that his woordes are vntrue, whiche he alleaged against the yong man touching the biynge of the poyson, consideringe he bought the poyson him selfe. Whē the Phisitian had spoken these woordes you might perceaue how the trayterous knaue chaunged his colour, how he swette for feare, how he trembled in euery part of his bodie: [...]vseth theeues to doo, when e­uident proufes are showen. And how he set one legge vpon an other, scratchyng his head, and grindinge his téeth, wherby there was no person but would iudge him cul­pable. In the ende when he was somewhat returned to his former subtiltie, he beganne to denie all that was saide, and stoutely affirmed that the Phisitian did lie. But the Phisitian perceauinge that he was rayled at and his woordes denied, did neuer cease to confirme his saiynges and to disproue the verlet, til such time as the officers by the commaundement of the Iudges, bound [Page 106] his handes and brought out the seale, wherwith he had sealed the purse, which augmented the suspition which was conceaued of him first. Howbeit neither the feare of the whele or any other torment (according to the vse of the Grecians) whiche weare ready prepared, no nor yet the fire coulde enforce him to confesse the matter, so obstinate and grounded was he in his mischieuous minde, but the Phisitian perceauing that the menaces of those tormentes did nothing preuaile, gan say: I cā ­not suffer or abide that this yong man who is innocēt, should against all lawe and conscience be punished and condemned to die, & the other whiche is culpable should escape so easely, and after mocke & floute at your iudge­ment: For I will giue you an euident proufe and ar­gument of this present crime, you shall vnderstande that when this caytife demaunded of me a present and stronge poyson, consideringe that it was not my parte to giue occasion of any others death, The office of a Phisician is to cute and not to kill, as I haue harde tell many Phisiciās of spe­culation haue done, before thei haue come to practise. but rather to cure & saue sicke persons by meane of medicines: And on the other side, fearinge least if I should denie his request I might minister a further cause of his mischiefe, eyther that he would bie poyson of some other, or els returne and woorke his wicked intent with a swoorde or some daungerous weapō, I gaue him no poison but a doling drinke of Mandragora, which is of such force that it wil cause any man to sléepe as though he weare dead: Nei­ther is it any meruell if this moste desperate man, who is certainely assured to be put to death, ordained by an auncient custome, can suffer or abide these facill & easie tormentes: but if it be so that the childe hath receaued the drinke as I tempred it with mine owne handes, he is yet aliue and doth but sléepe, and after his sléepe he shall returne to life againe: but if he be dead in déede, [Page] then may you further enquire of y causes of his death: The opinion of this aūcient Phisitian was found good, & euery man had a desire to goe to the sepulchre where y childe was laide, there was none of y Iustices, none of any reputatiō of the towne, nor any of the common people, but went to see this strange sight: Emongst thē al, the father of the childe remoued with his owne hāds the stone of the sepulchre, & founde his sonne rising vp after his dead & Soporiferous sléepe, whom whē he be­held he embrased him in his armes, & presented him be­fore y people with great ioye & consolation, & as he was wrapped & bound in his graue, so he brought him before the iudges, wherupon the wickednes of the seruaunt, & the treason of the stepdame was plainly discouered, & the veritie of the matter reueled, whereby the woman was perpetually exiled, Sorrowe into gladnes, the women mentio­ned in the warres that the Romaines had against the Carthaginiēses, were so gladde when they saw their sonnes a­liue, who were reported to be dead, that their hartes bra [...]e a sonder, and so died for ioye. the seruaunt hanged on a gal­lowes, & the Phisitian had the crounes which was pre­pared to bie the poyson: behold how the fortune of y old man was chaunged, who thinking to be depriued of all his race & posteritie, was in one moment made the fa­ther of twoo children. But as for me I was ruled and handled by fortune, according to her pleasure.

¶How Apuleius was solde to twoo brethern, whereof one was a Baker, and the other a Cooke, and how finely and deintily he fared.

Cap 45.

THe Souldiour which paid neuer a penny for me, by the cōmaundement of his Capitaine, was sent vnto Rome to carry letters to the great Prince, & generall of the Campe, & before he went he sold me for eleuen pence, to twoo of his cōpaignions, being seruāts to a man of woorship, wherof one was a Baker y baked [Page 107] swéete bread & delicates: the other a Cooke, whiche dres­sed fine and excellent meates for his maister, these two liued in common, & would driue me from place to place to carry suche thinges as was necessarie, in so muche that I was receaued by these twoo, as a thirde brother and compaignion, and I thought I was neuer better placed then with them: For when night came y supper was done & their busines ended, they would bring ma­ny good morsels into their chamber for thē selues: One wold bring pigges, chickins, fish, & other good meates, the other fine bread, pasties, tartes, custardes, & other delicate ionckettes dipped in honie. And when thei had shutte their chamber doore and went to the baynes: (O Lorde) how I woulde fill my guttes with those goodly dishes: Neither was I so muche a foole, or so very an Asse, to leaue the deintie meates & grinde my téeth vpō harde hey. In this sort I continued a great space, for I plaied the honest Asse, takinge but a litle of one dishe, and a litle of an other, whereby no man mistrusted me. In the ende I was more hardier & beganne to deuoure the whole messes, of the swéetest delicates, which cau­sed the Baker & the Cooke to suspect, how be it they ne­uer mistrusted me, but searched about to apprehēde the théefe: At length they began to accuse one an other of thefte, & to sette the dishes & morsels of meate in order, one by an other, because they would learne what was takē away, wherby one of thē was cōpelled to say thus to his fellow: is it reason to breake promise and faith in this sorte, by stealinge away the beste meate, and to sell it to augment thy good, and yet neuerthelesse to haue thy parte of the residew that is lefte, if our part­nershippe doo mislike thée, we wilbe parteners and bro­thers in other thinges, but in this we will breake of: [Page] for I perceaue that the great losse which I sustaine wil at length be a cause of great discorde betwéene vs: Thē answeared the other, verely I prayse thy great constā ­cie and subtilnes, in that (when thou hast secretely takē away the meate) doest beginne to cōplayne first, wher­as I by longe space of time haue suffred thée, because I woulde not séeme to accuse my brother of thefte, but I am right gladde in that we are fallen into commnnica­tion of this matter, least by our silence like contention might arise betwéene vs, as fortuned betwéene Ethe­ [...]les and his brother, when thei had reasoned together in this sort: they swoore both earnestly that neyther of them stale or toke away any iote of the meate, where­fore they concluded to searche out the théefe by al kinde of meanes. For they coulde not imagine or thinke that the Asse, who stoode alone there woulde eate any suche meates, neither coulde they thinke that myce or slies, were so rauenous as to deuoure whole dishes of meate, like the byrdes Harpies which carried away y meates of Phineus kinge of Archadia. In the meane season while I was fedde with deintie morselles I gathered together my flesh, my skinne waxed softe, my heare be­ganne to shine, and I was gallant on euery parte, but suche fayre and comely shape of my bodie was cause of my dishonour, for the Baker and the Cooke merueled to sée me so slike and fine, considering I did eate no hay at all: Wherefore on a time at their accustomed houre they wente to the baynes & locked their chamber doore. It fortuned that eare they departed away, they espied me thorough a hole how I fel roundly to my victuales: Then they merueled greatly, and litle estéeminge the losse of their meate laughed excéedingly, callinge y ser­uauntes of the house, to showe them the gréedy gorge [Page 108] and appetite of the Asse. Their laughinge was so im­moderate, that the maister of the house harde them, & demaūded the cause of their laughter, and when he vn­derstoode all the matter, he looked thorough y hole like­wise, wherwith he toke such a delectation that he com­maūded the doore to be opened, that he might sée him at his pleasure. Then I beholding euery man laugh, was nothing abashed, but rather more bold, whereby I ne­uer rested eating, til such time as the master of y house commaunded me to be brought into his parler as a no­ueltie, & theere caused al kindes of meates, which were neuer touched to be set on the table, which (although I had eaten sufficiently before, yet to winne the further fauour of the maister of the house) I did gréedely de­uoure, & made a cleane riddance of the delicate meates. And to proue my nature wholy, they gaue me suche meate as euery Asse doth greatly abhorre: for they put before me biefe and vinegre, bi [...]des and pepper, fishe & vergisse, in the meane season, thei that beheld me at the table did nothing but laugh: Then one of the seruaūts of the house said to his maister, I pray you sir giue him some drinke to his supper: Mary (ꝙ he) I thinke thou sayest true: For so it may be that to his meate, he wold drinke likewise a cuppe of wine. No boy, washe yon­der potte, and fill it with wine, whiche done carrie it to the Asse, and say that I haue dronke to him. Then all the standers by looked on, to sée what woulde come to passe, but I (assone as I behelde the cuppe) stayed not long, but gathering my lippes together, supped vp all the wine at one draught: The maister being right ioy­full hereat, caused the Baker and the Cooke, which had bought me to come before him, to whome he deliuered fower times as much for me as they paide, which done [Page] he committed me to one of his riche libertines, and charged him to looke wel to me, and that I should lacke nothinge, who obayed his maisters commaūdement in euery pointe: And to the ende he would crepe further into his fauour, he taught me a thousande qualities. First he instructed me to sitte at y table vpon my taile, and how I should leape & daunce holding vp my former féete, moreouer he taught me how I should answeare whē any body spake vnto me, with nodding my head, which was a straūge & meruelous thing, & if I did lacke drinke, I should looke still vpon the potte. All whiche thinges I did willingly bring to passe, & obeyed his do­ctrine: howbeit I could haue done al these things with­out his teaching, but I feared greatly least in showing my selfe conning without a master, I shoulde portende some great and straunge wonder, & therby be throwen out to wilde beastes. But my fame was spredde about in euery place, and the qualities which I could doo, in so much y my master was renoumed thorough out all the countrie by reason of me. For euery man woulde say: Beholde the gentleman that hath an Asse, that will eate and drinke with him, that will daunce, and vn­derstādinge what is said to him, will show his fantasie by signes. But first I will tel you (which I should haue done before) who my maister was, and of what coūtry, his name was Thiasus, he was borne at Corinth, which is the principal towne of al Achaia, he had passed many offices of honour, till he had taken vppon him the degrée Quinquenuall, accordinge as his birth and dignitie required, who to showe his woorthines, and to purchase the beneuolence of euery person, apoynted publique ioyes and triumphes, to endure the space of thrée dayes, and to bringe his endeuor to passe, he came [Page 109] into Thessalie to bie excellēt beastes, & valiant fighters for the purpose.

¶How a certaine Matron fell in loue with Apuleius, and howe he had his pleasure with her, and what other thinges happened.

Cap. 46.

WHen he had bought such thinges ss was ne­cessary, he woulde not returne home into his country in chariottes, or waggons, neither would he ride vpon Thessalian horses, or gennettes of fraunce, or spanishe mules, which be most excellēt that can be founde, but caused me to be garnished and trim­med with trappers & bardes of golde, with braue har­nesse, with purple coueringes, with a bridle of siluer, with pictured clothes, & with shrillinge belles, & in this manner he code vpon me louingly, speaking & entrea­ting me with gentle woordes, but aboue all thinges he did greatly reioyse, in that I was his seruant to beare him vpon my backe, and his compaignion to féede with him at the table: After long time whē we had traueled aswel by sea as lande, & fortuned to arriue at Corinth, the people of the towne came about vs on euery side, not so muche to doo honour vnto Thiasus as to sée me: For my fame was so greatly spredde there, y I gained my maister muche money, and when the people was desirous to sée me play qualities, they caused the gates te be shutte, and suche as ent [...]ed in should pay money, by meanes wherof, I was a profitable compaignion to them euery day: There fortuned to be emongst the as­sembly a noble and riche Matron, that conceaued much delight to behold me, in so much that she was amorous of me, and coulde finde no remedie to her passions and disordinate appetite, but cōtinually desired to haue [Page] her pleasure with me, as Pasiphae had with a Bull. In the ende she promised a great rewarde to my kéeper for the custodie of me one night, who for gayne of a li­tle money acccorded to her desire, and when I had sup­ped in a parler with my maister, we departed away and went into our chamber, where we found the fayre matron, who had tarried a great space for our com­minge: I am not able to recite vnto you how al thinges there were prepared, there weare fower Eunuques that laide a bedde of downe on the grounde with bol­sters accordingly for vs to lie on, the couerlette was of clothe of Golde, and the pillowes softe and tender, wheron the delicate Matron had accustomed to lay her head, then the Eunuques not mindinge to delay any lenger the pleasure of their Mistris, closed the doores of the chamber and departed away, within the cham­ber weare lampes that gaue a cléere light all the place ouer: Then she put of all her garmentes to her naked skinne, and takinge the lampe that stoode nexte to her, beganne to annointe all her body with baulme, and mine likewise, but especially my nose, whiche done she kissed me, not as thei accustome to doo at the stewes, or in brothell houses, or in the courtisant schooles for gayne of money, but purely, sincerly, and with great affection, castinge out these and like louinge woordes: Thou arte he whome I loue, thou arte he whome I onely desire, without thée I cannot liue, and other like preamble of talke, as women can vse well inoughe, when they minde to showe or declare their burninge passions and great affection of loue: Then she toke me by the halter and caste me vpon the bedde, whiche was nothinge straunge vnto me, consideringe that she was so beautifull a Matron, and I so well bolen out with [Page 110] wyne, and perfumed with balme, whereby I was rea­dely prepared for the purpose: But nothing greued me so much, as to thinke how I should with my huge and great legges embrase so faire a matrō, or how I should touche her fine, deintie, and silkē skinne, with my hard hoofes, or howe it was possible to kisse her soft, her pre­tie and ruddie lippes, with my monstrous mouthe and stony téeth, or how she, who was so yonge and tender, could be able to receiue me. And I (verely thought) if I should hurte the womā by any kind of meane, I should be throwen out to the wilde beastes: But in the meane season she kissed me, and looked on me with burninge eies, saiyng: I holde thée my cony, I hold thée my nops, my sparowe, and therewithall she eftsones embrased my bodie round about, and had her pleasure with me, whereby I thought the mother of Minotaurus, did not causelesse quenche her inordinat de [...]ier with a Bull. When night was passed, Here I haue lef [...] out certain lines propter honesta­tem. with muche ioye and small sleape: The matron went before daie to my kéeper, to bargaine with him for an other night, whiche he wil­lingly graunted, partly for gaine of money, and partly to finde newe pastime for my maister. Who after he was enformed of all y historie of my luxurie, was right glad, and rewarded my kéeper wel for his peines, min­ding to showe before the face of all the people what I could doo: but because they would not suffre the matron to abide suche shame, by reason of her dignitie, and be­cause they could finde no other that would endeuour so great a reproche. At length they obteined for money, a poore woman, which was condemned to be eatē of wild beastes, with whome I should openly haue to doo. But first I will tell you what a tale I hard, concerning this woman. This woman had a husbande, whose father [Page] minding to ride foorth, commaunded his wife which he left at home great with childe, that if she weare deliue­red of a doughter, it should incontinently be killed.

Whē the time of her deliuery came, it fortuned that she had a daughter, whome she would not suffer to be slaine, by reason of the natural affection which she bare vnto her childe, but secretly cōmitted her to one of her neighbours to nource. And when her husbande retur­ned home, she declared vnto him, that she was deliue­red of a daughter, whome as he commaunded, she had caused to be put to death. But when this childe came to age, and readie to be maried: The mother knew not by what meanes she should endow her daughter, but that her husband should vnderstand and perceiue it. Wher­fore she discouered the matter to her sonne, who was the husband of this woman, condemned to be eaten of wilde beastes: For she greatly feared, lest he shold vn­wares, fancie or fall in loue with his owne sister. The yong man vnderstanding the whole matter (to please & gratifie his mother) wēt immediatly to the yōg maidē, keping the matter secret in his hart, for feare of incon­uenience & (lamenting to sée his sister forsaken, both of mother and father) incontinently after, endowed her w t part of his owne goodes, and would haue maried her to one of his especiall & trusty frendes: But although he brought this to passe very secretly & sagely, yet in the ende cruell and enuious fortune, sowed great sedition in his house. For his wife, who was now cōdemned to beastes, waxed ielous of her husband, and began to su­spect the yong woman as a harlot and commō queane, in so much that she inuented all manner of meanes to dispatche her out of the way. And in the end, she inuen­ted this kinde of mischiefe: She priuely stale away her [Page 111] husbandes ringe, & went into the coūtrey, where as she cōmaunded one of her trustie seruaūtes, to take y ringe & to carie it to the maiden. To whom he should declare y her brother did pray her to come into y coūtrie to him, & that she should come alone without any other person. And to thēd she shold not delay but come with al spede, he should deliuer her the ringe, which should be a suffi­ciēt testimony of his message. The maidē, assone as she had receiued y ring of her brother, being very willing & desirous to obey his cōmaundement: (For she knew no otherwise but that he had sent for her) went in al haste as y messenger willed her to do. But whē she was come to the snare & engin whiche was prepared for her: The mischeuous womā, like one that were mad, & possessed with some il spirit, scourged her first with roddes from top to too, & when y poore maidē called for help w t a loud voice to her brother, y wicked harlot (wéening y she had inuented & feigned y matter) tooke a burning fireband & thrust it into her secret place, whereby she died misera­bly. The husband of this maiden, but especialy her bro­ther, aduertised of her death, came to y place where she was slain, & after great lamētation & weping, thei cau­sed her to be buried honorably. The yongman her bro­ther, taking in ill part y miserable deeth of his sister, as it was conuenient he should, cōceiued so great dolour within his mind, & was stroken w t so pestilent furie of bitter anguishe, that he fell into the burning passions, of a daūgerous ague, wherby he séemed in such necessi­tie, y he néeded to haue some spéedy remedy to saue his life. The woman y slew the maidē, hauing lost y name of wife together w t her faith, wēt to a traiterous Phisi­tiō, who had killed a great many persons in his daies, & promised him fifty pieces of gold if he would giue her a presēt poisō to kil her husbād out of hād, but in presēce of [Page] her husband, she feigned that it was necessarie for him, to receiue a certaine kinde of drinke, whiche y maisters and doctours of phisick, doo call a sacred potion, to thin­tent he might purge choller, and skowre the interior partes of his bodie. But the Phisition, in stéede of that drinke, prepared a mortall and deadly poyson, and whē he had tempred it accordingly, he tooke the potte in pre­sence of all the familie, and other neighbours & frendes of the sicke yonge man, and offred it vnto the patient. But the bolde and hardie woman, to thende she might accomplish her wicked intent, and also gaine the mony whiche she had promised the Phisition, staide the potte w t her hand, saying: I praie you maister Phisition, mi­nister not this drinke vnto my déere husbande, vntill suche time as you haue dronke some part thereof your selfe: For what knowe I, whether you haue mingled any poyson in the drinke or no, wherein I pray you not to be offended: For I know that you are a man of wis­dome and learning, but this I doo to thintent the con­science and loue that I beare to the health & saluegarde of my husband, may be apparant. The Phisition being greatly troubled at the wickednes of this mischieuous woman, as voide of all councell and leisure to consider on the matter, and least he might geue any cause of su­spition to the standers by, or showe any scruple of his gilty conscience, by reason of long delaie, tooke the pott in his hande, & presently dronke a good draught therof, which done, the yonge man hauing no mistrust, dronke vp the residue. The Phisition would haue gone imme­diatly home to receiue a contrepoison, to expell & driue out the first poyson: But the wicked woman perseue­ring in her mischiefe, would not suffer him to departe one foote, vntill such time as y poyson began to woorke [Page 112] in him, and then by much prayer and intercessiō, she li­censed him to goe home: By the way the poyson inua­ded the intrailes and bowels of the whole bodie of the Phisitian, in such sort that with great paine he came to his owne house, where he had skarse time to speake to his wife, and to will her to receaue the promised salary of the death of twoo persones, but he yéelded vp y ghost: And the other yong man liued not long after, but like­wise died, emongst the feigned and deceitfull teares of his cursed wife. A few daies after, when the yong man was buried, and the funeralles ended, the Phisicians wife demaūded of her the fiftie pieces of golde, whiche she promised her husband for the drinke, whereat the ill disposed womā, with resemblance of honestie, answea­red her with gentle woordes, and promised to giue her the fistie pieces of golde, if she woulde fetche her a litle of that same drinke, to proceede and make an end of all her enterprise. The Phisitians wife, partely to winne the further fauour of this riche woman, and partely to gayne the money, ranne incōtinently home, & brought her the whole potte of poison, which when she saw, ha­uing now occasion to execute her further malice, began to stretche out her bloudy handes to murder, she had a da [...]ghter by her husbande (that was poisoned) who ac­cordinge to order of law, was appointed heyre of al the lādes & goodes of her father, but this woman knowyng that the mothers, succede their children and receaue all their goodes after their death, purposed to show her self a like parent to her childe, as she was a wife to her hus­bande, wherupon she prepared a dinner with her owne handes, and empoisoned both the wife of the Phisitian and her owne daughter: The childe beynge yong and tender died incontinently, by force of the drinke, but [Page] the Phisitians wife beinge stoute and of stronge com­plexion, féelinge the poison t [...]ill downe into her bodie doubted the matter, & therupon knowyng of certaintie that she had receaued her baine, ranne foorthwith to the Iudges house, that what with her cries and excla­matiōs, she raised vp the people of the towne, and pro­misinge them to reueale and showe diuers wicked and mischeuous actes, caused that the doores and gates of the Iudge were opened, whē she came in, she declared from the beginninge to the ende, the abhomination of this woman, but she had skarse ended her tale, when o­peninge her falinge lippes, and grindinge her téeth to­gether, she fel downe dead before the face of the iudge, who incontinently to trie the truth of the matter, cau­sed the cursed woman and her seruauntes to be pulled out of the house, and enforced by paine of torment to confesse the veritie, whiche beynge knowen, this mis­chieuous woman, farre lesse then she deserued, but be­cause there coulde be no more cruell a death inuented for the qualitie of her offence, was condemned to be ca­ten of wilde beastes: beholde with this woman was I appointed to haue to doo before the face of al the people, but I beyng wrapped in great anguishe, and enuiynge the day of the triūphe, whē we twoo should so abandon our selues together, deuised rather to [...] my self, then to pollute my body w t this mischeuous harlot, and so for euer to remaine deffamed, but it was impossible for me to doo, considering that I lacked handes, & was not able to hold a knife in my hoofes: howbeit stāding in a pretie cabyn, I reioysed in my self to sée that spring time was come, & that all thinges florished, & that I was in good hope to finde some roses, to render me to my humaine shape. When the day of the triumph came, I was ledde [Page 113] with great pompe and magnificence to the appointed place, whither when I was brought, I firste sawe the preamble of the triumphe, dedicated with daūsers and mery tauntyng iestes, Here the trīuph is expressed. and I in the meane season, was placed before the gate of the Theatre, whereas on the one side, I sawe the gréene and freshe grasse growinge before the entrie thereof, whereon I greatly desired to féede: On the other side I conceaued a great delecta­tion to sée when the Theatre gates were opened, how al thinges was finely prepared & sette foorth: For there I might see yonge children and maydens in the flowre of their youth, of excellent beautie, and attyred gorge­ously, daunsing & mouing in comely order, according to the order of Grecia, for sometime they would daunce in length, somtime rounde together, sometime deuide thē selues in fower partes, & somtime lose handes on euery side, but when the trumpet gaue warnyng y euery mā should retire to his place: Then began the triumphe to appeare. First there was a hil of woodde, not much vn­like that whiche the Poet Homer called Idea, for it was garnished about with all sorte of gréene verdu [...]es and liuely trées, from the toppe whereof rāne downe a cléere & fresh foūtaine, nourishinge the waters below, about which woodde were many yōg & tender Goates, pluckyng & féeding deintily on the budding trées, then came a yonge man a shéepeherde representinge Paris, richly arraied with vestmentes of Barbarie, hauinge a mitre of gold vpō his head, & séeming as though he kept y goates. After him ensewed an other yong mā all na­ked, sauing y his left shoulder was couered with a rich cloke, and his head shininge with glisteringe heares, & hangyng downe, through whiche you might perceaue twoo litle winges, wherby you might cōiecture that he [Page] was Mercury with his rodde called Caduceus, he bare in his right hand an apple of golde, and with a séemely gate went towardes him that represented Paris, and after that he had deliuered him the apple, he made a signe signifiyng that Iupiter had commaunded him so to doo, whē he had done his message, he departed away: And by and by, behold there approched a fayre & come­ly maiden, not much vnlike to Iuno, for she had a Dia­deme of golde vpon her head, and in her hande she bare a regall Sceptre: then followed an other resemblinge Pallas, for she had on her head a shining sallett, wher­on was bounde a garlande made of Oliue braunches, hauinge in one hande a targette or shilde, and in the o­ther a speare as though she would fight: then came an other, which passed the other in beautie, & represented the goddesse Venus, with the colour of Ambrosia, whē she was a mayden, and to the ende she would show her perfect beautie, she appeared all naked, sauing that her fine and deintie skinne was couered with a thinne smocke, whiche the winde blewe hither and thither, to testifie the youth and flowre of the age of the Dame, her colour was of twoo sortes, for her bodie was white, as descended from heauen, & her smocke was blewishe as arriued from the sea: After euery one of the virgins whiche séemed Goddesses, followed certaine waytinge seruauntes, Castor and Pollux went behind Iuno, ha­uinge on their heades helmettes couered with starres. This virgin Iuno sowned a feewte, whiche she bare in her hand, and moued her selfe towardes the shéepeherd Paris, showyng by honest signes and tokens, and pro­misinge that he should be Lord of all Asia, if he would iudge her the fairest of the thrée, & to giue her the apple of golde: The other mayden whiche séemed by her ar­mour [Page 114] to be Pallas, was accompaigned with two yong men, armed and brandishinge their naked swoordes in their handes, wherof one was named Terror, and the other Feare, behinde them approched one soundinge his trumpet to prouoke and stirre men to battaile, this maiden began to daunce and shake her head, throwyng her fierce and terrible eyes vpon Paris, and promising that if it pleased him, to giue her the victory of beawtie, she would make him the most stronge & victorious man aliue. Then came Venus and presented her selfe in the middle of the Theatre, with much fauour of al the peo­ple, for she was accompaigned with a great number of youth, whereby you would haue iudged them to be all Cupidoes, eyther to haue flowen from heauen, or els frō the riuer of the sea, for they had winges, arrowes, and the residew of their habite according in eche point, & they bare in their handes, torches lighted, as though it had bene a day of mariage, then came in a great mul­titude of fayre maidens: On the one side were the most comely Graces: on the other side the moste beautifull Howres, carriyng garlandes and loose flowres, & ma­kinge great honour to the Goddesse of pleasure, the flewtes, and pypes yéelded out the swéete sounde of Li­dians, whereby they pleased the mindes of the stāders by excéedingly, but the more pleasinge Venus moued forwarde more and more, & shakinge her head, answea­red by her motion and gesture, to the sounde of the in­strumentes: For sometimes she woulde winke gen­tely, sometimes threaten and looke asperly, and some­time daunce onely with her eies: Assone as she was come before the Iudge, she made a signe and token to giue him the moste fayrest spouse of all the worlde, if he woulde preferre her aboue the residew of the God­desses, [Page] then the yonge Phrigian shéepeherde Paris, The offer of loue, passed kingdomes and treasure. with a willinge minde deliuered the Golden apple to Venus, whiche was the Victorie of beawtie. Why doo ye meruell ye Orators, ye Lawiers, & Aduocates, if many of our Iudges nowe a dayes sell their iudge­mentes for money, when as in the beginninge of the world, one onely Grace corrupted the sentēce betwéene God and men, and that one rusticall iudge and shéepe­herde, appointed by the counsell of the great Iupiter, solde his iudgement for a litle pleasure, which was the cause afterwarde of the ruine of all his progeny: by like māner of meane was sentence giuen betwéene the noble Gréekes: For the noble and valiaunt personage Palamades was conuicted and atteinted of treason, by false perswasion and accusation, and Vlisses being but of base condition, was preferred in Martiall prowesse aboue great Aiax, what iudgement was there likewise emongst the Atheman lawyers, sage and expert in all sciences, was not Socrates who was preferred by the God Apollo aboue all the wisemen of the worlde, by enuie and malice of wicked persons, empoysoned with the hearbe Cicuta, as one that corrupted the youth of the countrie, whome alwaies he kepte vnder by corre­ction: For we sée now a daies many excellent Philoso­phers greatly desire to follow his secte, and by perpe­tuall studie to volue and reuolue his woorkes, but t [...] the ende I may not be reproued of indignation, by any one that might say, what shal we suffer an Asse to play the Philosopher? I will returne to my former purpose. After the iudgement of Paris was ended, Iuno & Pal­las departed away angerly, showynge by their gesture that they would reuēge them selues on Paris, but Ve­nus that was right pleased and gladde in her harte, [Page 115] daunsed about the Theatre with much ioye. This done from the toppe of the hill through a priuie spoute, rāne a floudde of the colour of Saffran, whiche fell vpon the Goates, & chaūged their white heare into yellow, with a soote odour to all thē of the Theatre. By & by after, by certaine engins, the ground opened & swalowed vp the hill of woodde: and then beholde there came a man of armes thorow the middle of y multitude, demaunding by the consent of the people, the woman who was con­dēned to the beastes, & appointed for me to haue to doo withall: our bedde was finely & brauely prepared, & co­uered with silke & other thinges necessary, but I beside the shame to cōmitte this horrible facte, & to pollute my body w t this wicked harlot, did greatly feare the daūger of death: For I thought in my selfe, that when she & I were together, the fauage beast appointed to deuoure the womā, was not so instructed & taught, or would so temper his gréedines, as y he would teare her in pieces liyng vnder me, and spare me with a regarde of mine innocēcie. Wherfore I was more carefull for the salue­garde of my life, thē for the shame that I should abide, but in the meane season while my maister made reddy the bedde, and all the residew did greatly delight to sée the hunting and pleasantnes of the triumphe, I began to thinke and deuise for my selfe, and when I percea­ued that no man had regarde to me, that was so tame and gentle an Asse, I stole out of the gate that was next me, and then I ranne away with all my force, and came to Cenchris, whiche is the moste famous towne of all the Carthaginiens, borderinge vpon the seas cal­led Ageum and Saronicum, where is a great & mighty hauen frequented with many a sondry nation. There because I would auoide the multitude of people, I wēt [Page] to a secrete place of the sea coste, where I lay me down vpon the sande to ease and refreshe my selfe, for the day was paste and the Sunne gone downe, and I li­yng in this sorte on the grounde did fall in a sounde sléepe.

The eleuenth Booke of Lucius Apuleius of the Golden Asse.

¶How Apuleius by Roses and praier, returned to his humaine shape.

Cap. 47.

WHen midnight came, that I had slept my first sléepe, I awaked with sodein feare, and sawe the Moone shininge bright, as when she is at the full, and séeming as though she leaped out of the Sea. Then I thought with my selfe that, that was the moste secret time, when the Goddesse Ceres had most puisance and force, considering that all humaine thinges be gouer­ned by her prouidence: And not onely all beastes pri­uate and tame, but also all wilde aud sauage beastes be vnder her protection: And consideringe that all bodies in the heauens, the earth, and the seas be by her encre­singe motions encreased, and by her diminishinge mo­tions diminished: as wery of all my cruell fortune and calamitie, I founde good hope and soueraigne remedie, though it were very late, to be deliuered from all my misery, by inuocation & prayer to the excellent beautie of the Goddesse: whome I sawe shininge before mine eyes, wherfore shaking of mine Assy and drowsie sléepe [Page 116] I arose with a ioyfull face, and moued by a great affe­ction to purifie my selfe, I plonged my head seuē times into the water of the sea, which nomber of senen is cō ­uenable and agréeable to holy and diuine thinges, as the woorthy and sage philosopher Pythagoras hath de­clared. Then with a wéeping contenaūce, I made this orayson to the puissant Goddesse, saiynge: O blessed quéene of heauen, The Asses pray­er to the Moone. whether thou be the Dame Ceres which art the original & motherly nource of al fruictful thinges in the yearth, who after the findinge of thy daughter Proserpina, through the great ioye whiche thou diddest presently conceaue, madest the barrein & vnfruictful grounde to be plowed and sowen, and now thou inhabitest in the land of Eleusie, or whether thou be the celestiall Venus, who in the beginninge of the world diddest cople together all kinde of thinges w t an engendred loue, and by an eternall propagation of hu­maine kinde, art now woorshipped within the Tēples of the ysle Paphos, thou whiche art the sister of the god Phebus, who nourishest so many people by the gene­ration of beastes, & art now adored at the sacred places of Ephesis, thou which art called horrible Proserpina, by reason of the deadly houlinges which y yeldest, that hast power to stoppe & put away the inuasiō of hegges and ghostes whiche appeare vnto men, & to kéepe them downe in y closures of the earth: thou which arte woor­shipped in diuers manners, & doest luminate al the bor­ders of the yearth by thy feminine shape, thou whiche nourishest all the fruictes of the worlde by thy vigor & force, with what so euer name or fashion it is lawful to call vpon thée, I pray thée to ende my great trauell and miserie, and deliuer me from the wretched fortune whiche hath so longe time pursued me. Graunt peace [Page] and rest if it please thée to my aduersities, for I haue endured to to much labour and perill. Remoue frō me the shape of mine Asse, & rēder me to my pristine estate: and if I haue offended in any point thy diuine Maiestie let me rather die then liue, for I am full wery of my life. When I had ended this orayson, & discouered my plaintes to the Goddesse, I fortuned to fall sléepe and by and by appeared to me a diuine and venerable face, woorshipped euen of the Goddes them selues: Then by litle and litle I séemed to sée the whole figure of her bo­die, mountinge out of the sea and standinge before me: wherfore I purpose to describe her diuine semblaūce, if y pouertie of my humaine speach will suffer me, or her diuine power giue me eloquence therto. First she had a great abondance of heare, disparsed & scattred about her necke, on y crowne of her head she bare many garlādes enterlaced with flowres, in the middle of her forehead, was a cōpasse in fashiō of a glasse, or resembling y light of the moone, in one of her handes she bare serpentes, in the other blades of corne, her vestmēt was of fine silke yelding diuers colours, sometime white, sometime ye­low, sometime rosie, sometime flamy, & somtime (which troubled my spirit sore) darke & obscure couered with a blacke robe in māner of a shield, & pleatted in most sub­till fashion, at the skirtes of her garment, y weltes ap­peared comely, where as here & there y starres glimp­sed, & in the middle of them was placed y Moone, which shone like a flame of fire, roūd about y robe was a coron or garlande made with flowers & fruictes: In her right hande she had a timbrel of brasse which gaue a pleasaūt founde, in her left hande she bare a cuppe of golde, out of the mouth whereof the serpent Aspis lifted vp his head, with a swellinge throate, her odoriferous féete [Page 117] were couered with shoes enterlaced & wrought with victorious palme. Thus the diuine shape breathing out the pleasant spice of fertil Arabia, dayned not with her diuine voice to vtter these woordes vnto me: Beholde Lucius I am come, The woordes of the God desse, to the Asse. thy weeping & prayers hath moued me to succour thée, I am she that is the natural mother of all thinges, mistris and gouernesse of all the Ele­mentes, the initiall progeny of worldes, chiefe of the powers diuine, Quéene of heauen, the principall of the Goddes celestiall, the light of the Goddesses, at my wil the Planettes of the ayre, the holsome windes of the Seas, and the silences of Hell be disposed, my name, my diuinitie, is adored thoroughout all the worlde, in diuers manners, in variable customes, and in ma­ny names, for the Phrigiens call me the mother of the Goddes: The Atheniens, Minerue: the Cipriens, Ve­nus: the Candians, Diana: the Sicilians, Proserpi­na: the Eleusians, Ceres: some Iuno, other Bellona, other Hecate: and principally the Ethiopians whiche dwell in the Orient, and the Egiptians whiche are ex­cellent in all kinde of auncient doctrine, & by their pro­pre ceremonies accustome to woorshippe me, doo call me Quéene Isis: Behold I am come to take pitie of thy for­tune and tribulation, beholde I am present to fauour & ayde thée, leaue of thy wepinge and lamentation, put away al thy sorrow, for behold the healthful day which is ordeined by my prouidence, therefore be ready & at­tentife to my cōmaundement, the day which shall come after this night, is dedicate to my seruice by an eternal Religion, my priestes & ministers, doo accustome after the tempestes of the Sea be ceased, to offer in my name a newe shippe, as a firste fruicte of their nauigation, I commaunde thée, not to prophane or despise the sacri­fice [Page] in any wise, for the great Priest shal carry this day following in procession by my exhortatiō a garlande of Roses next to the timbrell of his right hand: Follow y my procession emongst the people, and when thou co­mest to the priest, make as though thou wouldest kisse his hande, but snatch at the roses, wherby I wil put a­way the skinne & shape of an Asse, The onely helpe of the Asse. which kinde of beast I haue longe time abhorred and despised, but aboue all things beware thou doubt not nor feare of auy of those thinges as harde & difficill to be brought to passe, for in this same houre y I am come to thée, I haue commaun­ded the Priest by a vision what he shal doo, & all the peo­ple by my cōmaundement shalbe compelled to giue thée place & say nothing, moreouer thinke not y emongst so faire & ioyful ceremonies. & in so good a cōpany, that any person shall abhorre thy ilfauored and deforme figure, or that any man shalbe so hardy, as to blame & reproue thy sodaine restoration to humaine shape, whereby they should gather or conceaue any sinister opiniō, and know thou this of certainty that the residew of thy life vntil the howre of death shalbe bounde & subiect to me: And thinke it not an iniurie to be alwaies seruiseable towardes me, since as by my meane and benefite thou shalt become a mā: thou shalt liue blessed in this world, thou shalte liue glorious by my guide and protection, and when thou descendest to hell, where thou shalt sée me in that subterre [...] place, shininge (as thou seest me now) in the darknes of Acheron, and reigninge in the déepe profūditte of Stix, thou shalt woorship me as one that hath bene fauorable to thée, and if I perceaue that thou art obedient to my commaūdement, addict to my religion, and merite my diuine grace, know thou that I will prolonge thy daies aboue the time that the fates [Page 118] haue appointed, and the celestiall planetes ordeined. When the deuine image had spoken these woordes, she vanished awaie: By and by, when I awaked I arose, hauing the members of my body mixt with feare, ioye, and sweate, and merueiled at the cleare presence of the puissaunt goddesse, and being sprincled with the water of the Sea, I recounted orderly her admonitions and deuine commaundementes. Sone after, the darkenes chased away, and the cleare and golden Sunne arose, when as behold, I sawe the streates replenished with people, going in a religious sorte, & in great triumphe. All thinges séemed that daie to be ioyfull, as well all maner of beastes, and the verie houses, as also the very daie it selfe séemed to reioyce. For after the horefrost, ensued the whote and temperat Sunne, whereby the litle birdes wening that the spring time had ben come, did chirp and sing in their steuen melodiously: The mo­ther of starres, the parent of times and mistres of all y e worlde: The fruitfull trées reioysed at their fertilitie: The barrein and sterrill were contented at their sha­dowe, rendring swete and pleasant shrilles: The seas were quiet from wyndes and tempestes: The heauen had chased away the cloudes, and appeared faire and cleare with his propre light. Beholde, then more and more appeared the pompes and processions, attired in regall manner, and singing ioyfully: One was girded about the middle like a man of armes: An other bare a speare, and had a cloke and highe shooes as a hunter: an other was attired in a roobe of silke, and sockes of gold, hauing his heare layde out, and dressed in fourme of a woman: There was an other which ware legharnes, & bare a target, a salette, & a speare, like a martiall soul­diour: After him marched one attired in purple, with [Page] vergers before him like a Magistrate: After him folo­weth one with a mantell, a staffe, a paire of pautofles, and with a graie bearde, signifiyng a Philosopher: Af­ter him went one with lyme, betokening a fowler, An other with hookes, declaringe a fisher. I sawe there a méeke and tame beare, whiche in matron habit was ca­ried on a stole: An Ape with a bonnet on his head, and couered with lawne resemblinge a shéepeherde, and bearing a cuppe of golde in his hande: An Asse whiche had winges glewed to his back, and went after an olde man, wherby you would iudge, the one to be Pegasus, and the other Bellephoron. Amongest these pleasures and populer delectations, whiche wandred hither and thither. You might sée the pampe of the Goddesse triū ­phantlie marche forwarde: The women attired in whyte vestmentes, and reioysinge in that they bare garlandes and flowers vpon their heades, bespred the wayes with herbes, whiche they bare in their aprons, where this regall and deuout procession shoulde passe. Other caried glasses on their backes, to testifie obei­saunce and honour to the Goddesse whiche came after. Other bare combes of Iuorie, and declared by their gesture & motions of their armes, that they were or­deined and reddy to dresse the Goddesse. Other drop­ped in the waies as they went, baulme and other preti­ous oyntmentes: Then came a great number, as well of men as of women, with candles, torches, and other lightes, doing honour to y celestial goddesse: After tht sounded the musicall armonie of instrumentes: Then came a faire company of youth, apareled in white vesti­mentes, singinge both metre & verse, with a cōly grace which some studious Poete had made in honour of the Muses. In the meane season, arriued y e blowers of trū ­pettes, [Page 119] which were dedicate vnto Serapis, & to the tē ­ple before them, were officers & bedles, preparing rome for the goddesse to passe. Then came the great company of men & women, which had takē deuine orders, whose garmentes glistned al the stretes ouer. The wemē had their heare anointed, & their heads couered with linnē: but the men had their crownes shauen, which were the terren starres of the goddesse, holdinge in their handes instrumentes of brasse, siluer, & gold, which rendred a pleasant sound. The principal priestes, which were ap­pareled w t white surplesses hanging down to y t groūd, bare y t relickes of y t puisant goddesse. One caried in his hand a light, not vnlike to those whiche we vsed in our houses, sauing y t in the middle thereof appeared a bole which rendred a more bright flame. The second attired like the other, bare in his handes an aultar, whiche the goddesse her selfe named the succour of nations. The third held vp a trée of palme, with leaues of golde, & the verge of Mercurie. The fourth showed out a token of equitie by his left hande, which was deformed in euery place, signifiyng thereby more equitie then by the right hande. The same priest caried a round vessell of golde, in forme of a cap. The fifte bare a Van, wroughte with springes of gold, and an other caried a vessel for wyne: By and by after, the goddesse followed a foote as men doo, and specially Mercurie, the messenger of the God­desse infernall and supernall, with his face sometyme blacke, sometyme fayre, liftinge vp the head of the dogge Ambis, and bearing in his lefte hand his verge, and in his right hande, the braunche of a palme trée, after whome folowed a cowe with an vpright gate, representinge the figure of the great Goddesse, and he that guyded her, marched on with muche grauitie. [Page] And other caried after the secretes of their religiō, clo­sed in a coffer. There was one that bare on his stomack the figure of his God, not formed like any beast, birde, sauage thinge, or humaine shape, but made by a newe inuention, whereby was signified that such a religion should not be discouered, or reueled to any person. There was a vessell wrought with a rounde bottome, hauing on the one side pictures figured like vnto the manner of the Egiptians, and on the other side was an eare, wherevpon stoode the serpent Aspis, holdinge out his skaly neck. Finally, came he which was appointed to my good fortune, according to the promisse of y e god­desse. For the great prieste whiche bare the restoration of my humaine shape, by the commaundement of the goddesse, approched more and more, bearing in his left hande the timbrell, and in the other a garland of roses to giue me, to thende I might be deliuered from cruell fortune, which was alwaies mine enemy, after the suf­ferance of so muche calamitie and poine, and after the endurance of so many perilles: Then I, not runninge hastely, by reason of sodaine ioye, lest I should disturbe the quiet procession with mine importunitie: But go­ing softly through the presse of people, whiche gaue me place on euery side, went after the priest. The priest being admonished the night before, as I might well perceiue, stoode still, and holding out his hande, thrust out the garlande of roses into my mouth, whiche I (trē ­bling) deuoured with a great affection: And assone as I had eaten thē, I was not deceiued of the promise made vnto me. For my deforme and Assy face abated, and first the rugged heare of my body fell of, my thick skyn waxed soft and tender, the hoofes of my féete chaunged into toes, my handes returned againe, my neck grewe [Page 120] short, my head & mouth became rounde, my long eares were made litle, my great and stony téeth waxed lesse like the téeth of men, and my taile whiche combred me most, appeared no where, thē the people began to mer­uell, and the religious honored the Goddesse for so eui­dent a miracle, they wondred at the visions which they sawe in the night, and the facilitie of my reformation, whereby they rendred testimony of so great a benefite which I receaued of the Goddesse, when I saw my self in such estate, I stode stil a good space and said nothing, for I coulde not tell what to say, nor what woorde I should first speake, nor what thankes I should render to the Goddesse, but the great priest vnderstanding all my fortune and misery by diuine aduertisement, com­maunded that one should giue me garmentes to couer me: Howbeit assone as I was transformed frō an Asse to my humaine shape, I hidde the priuities of my body with my handes as shame and necessitie compelled me: Then one of the companie put of his vpper robe, and put it on my backe, which done: the Priest loking vpon me with a swéete and benigne voyce, ganne say in this sorte: O my fréende Lucius, after the endurance of so many labors, & the escape of so many tempestes of for­tune, thou arte now at length come to the porte & hauē of rest and mercie: Neither did thy noble lignage, thy dignitie, neither thy doctrine any thing preuaile, but that thou hast endured so many seruill pleasures, by a litle folly of thy youthfulnesse, wherby thou hast had a sinister rewarde of thy vnprosperous curiositie, but howsoeuer the blindenes of fortune tormented thée in diuers daungers: So it is that nowe vnwares to her, thou art come to this present felicitie, let fortune goe, & fume with furie in an other place, let her finde some [Page] other matter to execute her cruelty, for fortune hath no puisance against them which serue and honour our Goddesse, for what auailed the theeues? the beastes sa­uage? thy great seruitude? the ill & daungerous waies? the longe passages? the feare of death euery day? know thou that now thou art salue, and vnder the protection of her, who by her cléere light doth lighten the other Goddes: wherefore reioyse, and take a conuenable coū ­tenance to thy white habite, followe the pompe of this deuout & honorable procession, to the ende y e such which be not deuout to the Goddesse, may sée & acknowledge their errour. Beholde Lucius thou art deliuered frō so great miseries, by the prouidence of the Goddesse Isis, reioyse therfore and triumphe of the victory of fortune, to the ende thou maist liue more salue and sure, make thy selfe one of this holy order, dedicate thy minde to the obsequie of our religion, & take vpon thée a volun­tary yoke of ministerie: And when thou beginnest to serue and honor the Goddesse, then shalt thou féele the fruicte of thy libertie: After that the great Priest had prophecied in this manner, with often brethinges, he made a conclusion of his woordes: Then I went emōgst the company of the reste and followed the procession: Euery one of the people knewe me, & pointinge at me with their fingers, saide in this sorte: beholde him who is this day transformed into a man by the puissance of the soueraigne Goddesse, verely he is blessed and most blessed that hath merited so great grace from heauen, as by the innocēcy of his former life, and as it were by a newe regeneration is reserued to the obsequie of the Goddesse. In the meane season by litle and litle we ap­proched nighe vnto the sea coaste, euen to that place where I lay the night before beinge an Asse. There, [Page 121] after the images & reliques were orderly disposed, the great Priest compassed about with diuers pictures ac­cording to the fashion of the Egiptians, did dedicate & consecrate with certaine prayers a fayre shippe made very cunningly, & purified the same w t a torch, an egge, & sulphur, the sayle was of white linnen cloth, wheron was writē certaine letters, which testified the nauiga­tion to be prosperous, the maste was of a great length made of a pine trée, rounde, & very excellent with a shi­ning toppe, y e cabbin was couered ouer with couerings of golde, & all the shippe was made of Citron trée very fayre, then al the people aswell religious as prophane toke a great nūber of Vannes replenished with odors & pleasaūt smelles, and threw them into the sea mingled with milke, vntill the shippe was filled vp with large giftes and prosperous deuotions, when as with a plea­sant winde it launched out into the déepe: but whē thei had lost the sight of the shippe, euery mā carried again that which he brought, and went towarde the Temple in like pompe and ordre as they came to the sea side. When we were come to the Temple, the great Priest and those whiche were deputed to carry the diuine fi­gures, but specially those whiche had longe time bene worshippers of the Religiō, went into the secrete chā ­ber of the Goddesse, where they put & placed the Ima­ges according to their order. This done one of the com­pany whiche was a Scribe or interpretour of letters, who in forme of a preacher, stoode vp in a chayre before the place of the holy colledge, & began to read out of a booke, & to enterpret to the great Prince, the Senate, and to all the noble order of Cheualry, and generally to all the Romaine people, and to all suche as be vnder the puissance and iurisdiction of Rome, these woordes [Page] following, Populis missio. [...], which signified y ende of their diuine seruice, and that it was lawfull for euery man to depart, whereat all the people gaue a great shoute, & replenished with much ioye, bare all kinde of herbes and garlandes of flowres home to their houses, kissing and embrasing the steppes where the Goddesse passed: howbeit I could not doo as the rest, for my minde wold not suffer me to departe one foote away, so earnest and attentife was I to beholde the beautie of the Goddesse, with remembraunce likewise of my great trauell and miserie, which I had endured.

¶How the Parentes and freendes of Apuleius, harde newes that he was aliue and in health.

Cap. 48.

IN the meane season newes was carried into my countrie (as swifte as the flight of birdes, or as the blaste of windes) of the grace and benefite whiche I receaued of the goddesse, and of my fortune woorthy to be had in memory. Then my parentes, fréendes, & ser­uauntes of our house, vnderstandinge that I was not dead as thei were falsely enformed, came towardes me with great diligence to sée me, as a man raysed from death to life: And I likewise which did neuer thinke to sée them againe, was as ioyfull as they, acceptinge and takinge in good part, their honest giftes and oblations which they gaue, to the intent I might bie such things as was necessary for my body: After that I had made relation vnto them of all my pristine misery, & present ioyes, I wente againe before the face of the Goddesse, and hired me a house within the cloisture of the tēple, to the ende I might continually be ready to the seruice of the Goddesse, and ordinarily frequent the company [Page 122] of the priestes, wherby I would wholy become deuout to the Goddesse, and an inseparable woorshipper of her diuine name: It fortuned that the Goddesse appeared to me oftentimes in the night, perswadinge and com­maundinge me to take the order of her religion, but I although I was endewed with a desirous good wil, yet the reuerende feare of the same withhelde me, conside­ringe that her obeysaunce was harde and difficill, the chastetie of the Priestes intollerable, and the life fraile & subiect to many incōueniences, beinge thus in doubte I refrained my selfe from all those thinges, as séeming impossible: On a night the great Priest appeared vnto me presenting his lappe full of treasure, and whē I de­maunded what it signified, he answeared that it was sent me from the countrie of Thessaly, and that a ser­uaūt of mine named Candidus was arriued like wise: whē I was awaked, I mused in my self what this vi­stō should portēde, cōsidering I neuer had any seruaūt called by that name: but whatsoeuer it did signifie, this I verely thought that it was a fore show of gaine & pro­sperous chaunce: while I was thus astonied I went to the Temple, and tarried there till the openinge of the gates, then I wente in, & began to pray before the face of the Goddesse, the Priest prepared and set the diuine thinges on euery Aultour, & pulled out of the foūtaine the holy vessell with solempne supplication. Then they began to singe the mattens of the mornyng, testifiyng thereby the howre of the pryme. By and by beholde ar­riued my seruauntes whiche I had left in the countrie, whē Fotis by errour made me an Asse, bringyng with thē my horse, recouered by her through certaine signes and tokens which he had vpon his backe. Then I per­ceaued the enterpretatiō of my dreame, by reason that [Page] beside the promisse of gaine, my white horse was resto­red to me, which was signified by the argument of my seruaunt Candidus. This done I retired to the seruice of the Goddesse in hope of greater benefites, conside­ring I had receaued a signe and token, wherby my cou­rage encreased euery day more & more to take vpon me the orders and Sacramētes of the Temple: In so much that I oftentimes cōmuned with the Priest, desiringe him greatly to giue me the first degree of the Religion, but he which was a mā of grauitie, & well renoumed in y order of priesthood, differd my affection frō day to day with comfort of better hope, as parentes cōmonly bri­dle the desires of their children, when they attempt or endeuor any vnprofitable thing, saying: y t the day, whē any one should be admitted into their order, is appoin­ted by the Goddesse, the Priest which shoulde minister the sacrifice, is chosen by her prouidence, and the neces­sarie charges of the ceremouies, is allotted by her com­maundement, all which thinges he willed me to attēde with meruelous patience, and that I should beware ei­ther of to much hastines or to great slacknes, conside­ringe that there was like daunger, if beynge called I should delay, or not called I should be hastie: moreouer he saide, that there was none of his company eyther of so desperate a minde, or so rashe and hardie as to en­terprise any thinge without the commaūdement of the Goddesse, wherby he should committe a deadly offēce, considering that it was in her power to dampne & saue all persons, and if any were at the point of death and in the way to damnation, so that he were capable to receaue the secretes of the Goddesse, it was in her power by diuine prouidence to reduce him to the pathe of health, as by a certaine kinde of regeneratiō: Finaly [Page 123] he saide that I muste attende the celestiall precept, al­though it was euident and playne that the Goddesse had already vouchsaued to call and appointe me to her ministery, and to will me to refraine from prophane & vnlawful meates, as those priests which were already receaued, to y e ende I might come more apte & cleane to the knowledge of y e secretes of the religiō. Then I was obedient vnto these woordes, and attentife with méeke quietnes, & probable taciturnitie, I dayly serued at the temple: in the ende the holesom gentlenes of y goddesse did nothinge deceaue me, for in a night she appeared to me in a vision, declaryng y the day was come whiche I had wished for so longe, she told me what prouisiō and charges I should be at, and how that she had appointed her principal priest Mithra to be a minister with me in my sacrifices. When I had harde these diuine cōmaun­dementes I greatly reioysed, and arose before day to speake with the great priest, whom I fortuned to espie cominge out of his chamber: Then I saluted him, and thought with my self to aske and demaunde his coūsell with a bolde courage, but assone as he perceaued me, he began first to say: O Lucius now knowe I well y t thou are moste happy and blessed, whom the diuine goddesse doth so greatly accept with mercy, why doest y delay: Behold the day which thou diddest desire, whē as thou shalt receaue at my handes y order of religiō, & know y most pure secretes of the goddesse, wherupō the old mā toke me by the hand, & ledde me to the gate of the great temple, where at his first entrie he made a solēpne cele­bratiō, and after y t the morning sacrifice was ended, he brought out of the secrete place of the temple certaine bookes, partly writen with vnknowen charecters, and partely peincted with figures of beastes, declarings [Page] briefly euery sentence, with toppes and tayles turned roūde in fashiō of a whéele, which were wholy straūge & impossible to be reade of the prophane people: There he enterpreted to me suche thinges as were necessary to the vse and preparation of mine order. This done, I gaue in charge to certaine of my compaignions to bie liberaly what so euer was néedefull and conuenient, then he brought me to the next baynes, accōpaned with all the religious sorte, and demaundinge perdon of the Goddes, washed me and purified my body according to y e custome: After this when noone approched he brought me backe againe to the Temple, and presented me be­fore the face of the Goddesse, giuinge a charge of cer­taine secrete thinges vnlawfull to be vttered, and cō ­maunding me, and generally all the rest, to fast by the space of tenne continuall dayes, without eating of any beast, or drinking of any wine, which thinges I obser­ued with a meruelous continencie. Then beholde the day approched, when as the sacrifice should be done, & when night came there arriued on euery coast a great multitude of Priestes, who accordinge to their order offered me many presentes and giftes, then was all the Laitie & prophane people cōmaunded to depart, & when they had putte on my backe a linnē robe, they brought me to the most secrete and sacred place of the Temple. You would perauēture demaūde, you studious reader, what was saide and done there, verely I would tel you if it were lawfull for me to tell, you should know if it were conuenient for you to here, but both thy eares and my tongue shall incurre the like paine of rashe cu­riositie: Howbeit I wil content thy minde for this pre­sent time, which peraduenture is somewhat religious and giuen to some deuotion, listen therefore & beleue [Page 124] it to be true: thou shalt vnderstande that I approched nere vnto Hell, euē to the gates of Proserpina, & after that I was rauished throughout all the Elementes, I returned to my proper place: About midnight I sawe the sonne shine, I saw likewise the Goddes celestiall, and Goddes infernall, before whome I presented my selfe and woorshipped them: beholde now haue I tolde thée, which although thou hast harde, yet it is necessary that you conceale it, for this haue I declared without offence, for the vnderstanding of the prophane. When morninge came and that the solempnities were fini­shed, I came foorth sanctified with twelue [...]toles & in a religious habite, wherof I am not forbiddē to speake, consideringe that many persons sawe me at that time: there I was commaunded to stande vppon a seate of woodde which stoode in the middle of the temple, before the figure and remembraūce of the Goddesse, my vest­ment was of fine linnen, couered & embrodered with flowres, I had a pretious cope vpon my shoulders han­ginge downe to the grounde, whereon were beastes wrought of diuers colours, as Indian Dragons, & Hy­perborian Gryphones, whome in forme of brides the other world doth engender, the Priestes cōmonly call such a habit, a celestiall Stole: in my right hande I car­ried a light torche, and a garlande of flowres vpon my head, with Palme leaues stroutinge out on euery side: I was adorned like vnto the Sunne, and made in fa­shion of an Image, in suche sorte that all the people compassed about to beholde me: Then they beganne to solemnise the feast of my natiuitie, and the newe pro­cession with sumptuous bankets and delicate meates: the thirde day was likewise celebrate with like cere­monies, with a religious dinner, and with all the con­summation of the order, when I had continued there [Page] a good space I conceaued a meruelous pleasure and cō ­solation in beholding ordinarily the Image of the god­desse, who at length admonished me to departe home­warde, not without rendringe of thankes, whiche al­though were not sufficient, yet they were according to my power: How be it I could vnneth be perswaded to depart, before I had fallen prostrate before the face of y Goddesse, and wiped her steppes with my face, where­by I beganne so greatly to wéepe and sighe, that my woordes were interrupted, and as deuouring my pray­er I began to say in this sorte: O holy & blessed Dame, the perpetuall comfort of humaine kinde, who by thy bountie and grace nourishest all the world, and bearest a great affection to the aduersities of the miserable as a louing mother, thou takest no rest, neyther arte thou idle at any time in giuinge thy benefites, and succo­ringe all men aswell on lande as sea, thou arte she that puttest away all stormes and daungers from mans life by thy right hande, whereby likewise thou restray­nest the fatall dispositions, appeasest the great tem­pestes of fortunes, and kéepest backe the course of the starres, the Gods supernall doth honour thée: the Gods infernall hath thée in reuerence: thou enuironest al the worlde, thou giuest light to the Sunne, thou gouer­nest the world, thou treadest downe the power of Hell: By thy meane the times returne, the Planets reioyse, the Elementes serue: at thy cōmaūdement the windes doo blowe, the cloudes encrease, the séedes prosper, and the fruictes preuayle, the birdes of the ayre, the beastes of the hill, the Serpentes of the denne, and the fishes of the sea, doo tremble at thy maiestie, but my spirite is not able to giue thée sufficient prayse, my patrimonie is vnable to satisfie thy sacrifice, my voyce hath no power to vtter that which I thinke, no if I had a thou­sande [Page 125] mouthes and so many tongues: How be it as a good religious personne, and according to my estate, I wil alwaies kéepe thée in remembraunce, and close thee within my brest. When I had ended mine orayson, I wente to embrase the great Prieste Mithra my spiri­tuall Father and to demaunde his pardon, considering I was vnable to recompence the good whiche he had done me: After great gréetinges & thankes I departed from him to visitte my parents & fréendes. And within a while after by the exhortatiō of the Goddesse, I made vp my packquette and toke shippyng towardes y e Citie of Rome, where, with a prosperous winde I arriued a­bout the twelfe day of December. And the greatest de­sire which I had there was daily to make my praiers to y soueraigne Goddesse Isis, who by reason of the place where her temple was builded, was called Cāpensis, & cōtinually adored of the people of Rome: Her minister & woorshipper was I howbeit I was a straunger to her Church, & vnknowen to her religion there: When the yeare was ended, & that the Goddesse warned me again to receaue this newe order & consecration, I merueled greatly what it should signifie, & what should happen, considering that I was a sacred person already. But it fortuned y t while I partly reasoned with my selfe, and partely examined y e thing with the Priestes & Bishops, there came a newe & meruelous thought to my minde, that is to say: I was onely religious to y e goddesse Isis, but not sacred to the religion of great Osiris the soue­raigne Father of all the Goddes, betwéene whome, although there was a religious vnitie and concorde, yet there was a great difference of order and ceremo­nie. And because it was necessary that I shoulde like­wise be a minister vnto Osiris, there was no longe de­lay: For in the night after appered vnto me one of that [Page] order, couered with linnen robes, holding in his hādes speares wrapped in yu [...]e, and other thinges not conue­nient to declare, which he lefte in my chamber, and sit­tinge in my seate, [...] to me suche thinges as were necessary for the sumptuons bankette of mine entry. And to the ende I might knowe him againe, he showed me how the ankle of his left foote was somewhat may­med, whiche caused him a litle to halte. After that I did manifestly knowe the will of the God Osiris, when Mattins was ended, I wente from one to an other to finde him out whiche had the haltinge marke of his foote, accordinge as I learned by my vision, at length I founde it true: for I perceaued one of the company of the Priestes who had not onely the token of his foote, but the stature and habite of his body, resemblyng in euery point as he appeared in the night, he was called Asinius Marcellus, Asinius by ta­king away the letter i. is made Asinus. a name not muche disagreynge from my transformation, by and by I wēnte to him, whiche knew well inough all the matter, as beynge monished by like precept in the nighte: for the night before as he dressed the flowres and garlandes about the head of y t God Osiris, he vnderstoode by the mouth of his Image, which tolde the predestinations of all men, how he had sent a poore man of Madaura, to whom he should mini­ster his sacramentes, to the ende y he should receaue a rewarde by diuine prouidence, and the other glory, for his vertuous studies, when I sawe my selfe thus de­puted vnto religion, my desire was stopped by reason of pouertie, for I had spente a great parte of my goodes in trauell and peregrination, but most of all in the citie of Rome, whereby my lowe estate withdrewe me a great while: In the ende, being oftentimes stirred for­warde, not without great trouble of minde, I was cō ­streined to sel my roabe for a litle money: howbeit, suf­ficient [Page 126] for all my affaires. Then the Prieste spake vnto me, saiyng: How is it that for a little pleasure thou art not aferde to sell thy vestimentes, and entring into so great ceremonies, dost feare to fall into pouertie▪ pre­pare thy selfe, and abstaine from all animall meates, as beastes and fishe. In the meane season I did frequent the sacrifices of Serapis, whiche were done in y night, which thing gaue me great comfort to my peregrina­tion, and ministred vnto me more plentifull liuing, cō ­sidering I gained some money in haūting to the court, by reason of my lattin tongue. Immediatly after, I was eftsones called and admonished by the god Osiris, to receiue a thirde order of Religiō. Then I was great­ly astonied, because I coulde not tell what this newe vision signified, or what the intent of the Celestiall Goddes was, doubting least the former Priestes had giuen me ill councell, and fearinge that they had not faithfully enstructed me, beinge in this maner as it were incensed. The God Osiris, appeared to me the night! folowing, and geuing me admonition, saiynge: There is no occasion why thou shouldest be aferd with so often order of Religion, as though there were som­what omitted, but that thou shouldest rather reioyse, since as it hath pleased y e Goddes to cal thée thrée times, when as there was neuer yet any persone that atchie­ued to the order but once: Wherfore thou maist thinke thy selfe most happy for so great benefites. And knowe thou that the Religion which thou must nowe receiue, is right necessary, if thou meane to perseuer in the woorshipping of the Goddesse and to make solempnitie on the festiual day with thy blessed habite, which thing shalbe a glory and renoume to thée. After this sorte the diuine maiestie perswaded me in my sléepe, where­upō by and by I went towardes the Priest, and decla­red [Page] all that which I had séene, then I fasted the space of tenne daies according to the custome, and of mine own proper wil I abstained lenger then I was cōmaunded: And verely I did nothing repent of the paine whiche I had taken, & of the charges which I was at, considering that the diuine prouidence had giuen me such an order that I gayned much money in pleadinge of causes: Fi­nally after a few dayes the great God Osiris appeared to me in the night, not desguised in any other forme but in his owne essence, cōmaundinge me that I should be an Aduocate in the court, & not feare the sclaunder & enuie of ill persons, whiche bare me stomacke & grudge by reason of my doctrine, whiche I had gotten by much labour: moreouer he woulde not that I shoulde be any lenger of the nomber of his Priestes, but he allotted me to be one of the Decurious & Senatours: and after he appointed me a place within the auncient Pallaice, which was erected in the time of Silla, whereas I exe­cuted mine office in great ioy with a shauen crowne.

FINIS.
❧The Table of the first Booke of Lucius Apuleius of the Golden Asse.
  • HOvve Apuleius ridinge into Thessalie, fortuned to fall into cōpanie vvith tvvo straū ­gers, that reasoned together of the mightye povver of VVitches. Cap. 1. fol. 1.
  • Hovv Apulcius told to the tvvoo straūgers, what he savv a Iug­lar doo in Athēs. Cap. 2. fol. 1.
  • Hovv Socrates in his returne frō Macedonie to Larissa, vvas spoiled and robbed, and hovv he fell acquainted vvith one Meroe, a VVitch. Cap. 3. fol. 3.
  • [Page] Hovve Meroe the VVitche turned di­uers persons into miserable Beastes. Cap. 4.
  • Hovv Socrates and Aristomenus slept to­gether in one chāber, and hovve they vvere hādled by VVitches. Cap. 5. fol. 5.
  • Hovv Apuleius came to a Citie called Hi­pate, and vvas lodged in one Malos house, and brought him letters from Demea of Corinth. Cap. 6. fol. 9.
  • Hovve Apuleius goeinge to bie Fishe mette vvith his compaignion Pithias. Cap. 7. fol. 10.
¶The seconde Booke.
  • ¶Hovv Apuleius fortuned to meete vvith his cofin Byrrhena. Cap. 8. fol. 12.
  • Hovve Apuleius fell into loue vvith Fo­tis. Cap. 9. fol. 14.
  • Hovv Birrhena sent victualles vnto Apu­leius, and hovv he talked vvith Milo of Diophanes, and hovv he laye vvith Fotis. Cap. 10. fol. 16.
  • Hovv Apuleius supped vvith Birrhena, and vvhat a straūge tale Bellephoron tolde at the table. Cap. 11. fol. 18.
¶The thirde Booke.
  • ¶Hovv Apuleius vvas taken and putte in prison for Murder. Cap. 12. fol. 24.
  • Hovve Apuleius vvas accused by an olde man, and hovv he ansvveared for him selfe. Cap. 13. fol. 24.
  • Hovv Apuleius vvas accused by tvvo vvo­men, and hovv the slaine bodies vvere foūde blovven bladders. Cap. 14. fol. 26.
  • Hovve Fotis tolde to Apuleius, vvhat VVitchecrafte her Mistris did vse. Cap. 15. fol. 28.
  • Hovv Fotis brought Apuleius to see her Mistris Enchaunt. Cap. 16. fol. 31.
  • Hovve Apuleius thinkinge to be turned into a Birde, vvas turned in to an Asse, and hovve he vvas ledde avvaye by Theeues. Cap. 17. fol. 32.
¶The fourth Booke.
  • ¶Hovv Apuleius thinking to goe to eate Roses, vvas cruelly beaten by a Garde­ner and chased by Dogges. ca. 18. fol. 34.
  • Hovv Apuleius vvas preuēted of his pur­pose, and hovve the Theeues came to their denne. Cap. 19. fol. 35.
  • Hovve Thrasileon vvas disguised in a Beares skinne, and hovv he vvas hand­led. Cap. 20. fol. 39.
  • Hovve the Theeues stole avvay a Gentel­vvoman, and brought her to their denne. Cap. 21. fol. 41.
  • The moste pleasaunt and delectable tale of the Marriage of Cupide and Psy­ches. Cap. 22. fol. 45.
  • Hovv Apuleius carried avvay the Gentle­vvoman, and hovv they vvere taken a­gaine by the Theeues, and vvhat a kinde of death vvas inuented for thē. Cap. 23. fol. 63.
¶The seuenth Booke.
  • ¶Hovv he that vvas lefte behinde at Hip­pata to bringe nevves concerning the robbery of Milos house, came home and declared to his compaigniōs that all the faulte was layde to one Apu­leius charge. Cap. 24. fol. 66.
  • How the death of the Asse, and the Gen­telvvoman vvas staide. Cap. 25. fol. 69.
  • Hovv all the Theeues vveare brought in a sleape by their nevve companion. Cap. 26. fol. 70.
  • [Page] Hovv the Gētlevvomā vvas carried home by her husbande vvhile the Theeues vvere a sleape, and hovve muche Apu­leius vvas made of. Cap. 27. fol. 71.
  • Hovve Apuleius vvas made a cōmon Asse to fetche home vvoodde, and hovv he vvas handled by a boye. Cap. 28. fol. 72.
  • Hovv Apuleius vvas accused of lecherie by the Boye. Cap. 29. fol. 74.
  • Hovve the Boye that ledde Apuleius to the fieldes, vvas slaine in the vvoodde. Cap. 30. fol. 75.
  • Hovv Apuleius vvas cruelly beaten by the mother of the boye that vvas slaine. Cap. 31. fol. 76.
¶The eight Booke.
  • ¶Hovv a yonge man came and declared the miserable death of Lepolemus, and his vvife Charites. Cap. 32. fol. 77.
  • Hovve Apuleius vvas ledde avvay by the horsekeper, and vvhat daungers he vvas in. Cap. 33. fol. 81.
  • Hovv the Shepeherdes determined to a­bide in a certayne vvoodde to cure their vvoundes. Cap. 34. fol. 83.
  • Hovv a vvoman killed her selfe, and her childe, because her husbande haunted harlottes. Cap. 35. fol. 84.
  • Hovv Apuleius vvas cheapened by diuers persons, and hovve they loked in his mouth to knovv his age. Cap. 36. fol. 84.
¶The ninth Booke.
  • ¶Hovve Apuleius saued him selfe from the Cooke by breakinge his halter, and of other thinges that happened. Cap. 37. fol. 87.
  • Of the deceipte of a vvoman, vvhich made her husbād Coockolde. Cap. 38. fol. 89.
  • Hovv the Priestes of the goddesse Syria, vvere taken and put in pryson, and hovve Apuleius was solde to a Baker. Cap. 39. fol. 90.
  • Hovve Apuleius vvas handled by the Ba­kers vvife, whiche vvas a harlotte. Cap. 40. fol. 92.
  • Hovv Barbasus being ielous ouer his vvife, cōmaunded that she should be kepte close in his house, and vvhat happe­ned. Cap. 41. fol. 93.
  • Hovv Apuleius after the Baker vvas han­ged, vvas solde to a Gardiner, and vvhat dreadful things happened. Ca. 42. fol. 97.
  • Hovve Apuleius vvas founde dy his sha­dovv. Cap. 43. fol. 100.
¶The tenth Booke.
  • ¶Hovve the Souldiour draue Apuleius awaye, and hovve he came to a Capi­tains house: and vvhat happened there. Cap. 44. fol. 102.
  • Hovv Apuleius vvas solde to two brethern, vvhereof one vvas a Baker, and the o­ther a Cooke, and hovve finely and deintily he fared. Cap. 45. fol. 106.
  • Hovv a certaine Matron fell in loue vvith Apuleius, and hovve he had his plea­sure vvith her, and what other things happened. Cap. 46. fol. 109.
¶The eleuenth Booke.
  • ¶Hovve Apuleius by Roses and pray­er, returned to his humaine shape. Cap. 47. fol. 115.
  • Hovv the Parentes and freendes of Apu­leius, harde nevves that he vvas aliue and in health. Cap. 48. fol. 121.
FINIS.

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