The Famous History of GEORGE Lord FAUKONBRIDGE, Bastard Son to RICHARD CORDELION, KING OF ENGLAND.  
Begotten in his royal Tower, upon the princely Clarabel, Daughter to Don john Duke of Austria, surnamed The worlds fair Concubine.  
Showing his Knightly Adventures, dignified Victories, with his Life and death, spent in the honour of GOD and his Country: Never wearing any other Garment, but that lions Skin, by which his Kingly Father challenged his Lion-like Title.  
Printed at London by I. B. and are to be sold by james Danie●, at his shop near Fleet Conduit. 1616.   

THE FAMOUS History of GEORGE Lord FAUKONBRIDGE, Bastard son to RICHARD CORDELION King of England.  

CHAP. I. How Richard Cordelion King of England, going to the holy Land, slew Philip the Prince of Austria, and how Don john doomed him to a most strange punishment, and of his woeful lamentation in prison.  
WHen the true spirits of illustrious achievements, possessed the Nobility of Europe, and that the Babes of honour, fed upon the milk of Knightly adventures, here reigned in England, a royal minded King, named Richard Cordelion, a Prince replenished with the commendable reports of renown, in whose government, both Arms and Art flourished, wars wrought peace, and peace brought happiness. In this King's time, the blessed state of God's holy City of jerusalem, groaned under the heavy yoke of Paganism, and the despised Infidels with pride and tyranny suppressed all her royalties, for recovery whereof, all Christendom took Arms, and the rumours of war wrathfully thundered in all our Northern Nations.  
Five Christian Kings, (under the bloody standers of Godfrey of Bullin,) (that imperious monarchs, and worthy of the World) marched. Amongst which glorious number, one matchless King, Richard Plantagenet, was too adventurous forward, for he in the blooming bud of his youth, with the chiefest Chivalry of England, clothed in steel, fired with fame and full of resolution, left the government of his kingdom to his brother john, than Duke of Ireland, and arrived in Austria, the meeting place of these Christian Potentates.  
The rest of this Camp royal, not then in a readiness, according to the customs of Princes, caused King Richard to request entertainment for him and his Knights. Don john then Duke of Austria, being a Prince so courteous and noble, that he could do no less than grant it. Now Fame and Fortune in King Richard's thoughts smiled, and the smooth brow of wished good speed, bade him and his hundred Knights welcome.  
A hundred he had as then for his guard, called Knights of the Bath, a title of dignity first given by this King: but now while the rest of his Army planted their standers upon the downs adjoining to the Court, these Knightly Gallants so reveled in the Duke's Palace, that well were they that could purchase their favours, and highly graced were all such as had but the smallest employment of an English Knight.  
So amiable, pleasing, and courteous, were the conditions of King Richard and his followers, so truly were their minds devoted to honour, that they even enforced love from all estates, the haughty minded of their own accords became gentle, the stubborn nature pliable, and the frown of every English brow by desert challenged both cap and knee, Don john himself began to grow disgracious, his Subjects wavering, allegiance waxed cold, and none but the name of English Richard merited Fortunes high graces: All Austria esteemed England a happy Nation, by nature the darling of virtue, and the only hopes of Christendom, so grealy are still the favours of our English people in the eyes of foreign kingdoms.  
This detracted love of his subjects did not a little displease Don john, and his son Prince Philip, and no little envy by it were bred in their two fired breasts, that nothing could quench the increasing flame thereof, but King Richard's shame and confusion. Politic and close were their purposes, deadly and devilish their intents, and most unhuman and unchristian like their proceedings, the law of Arms was quite laid aside, the honour of Princes forgotten, and the dignity of Knight hood vilely abused, malice, and wrath, the champions of pale death hourly possessed their two hearts, with a secret imagination of vengeance, plotted against the life of royal Richard, to murder by violence, would but incur displeasures of foreign Nations, to kill innocents offendeth Heaven, and to betray Princes, hath rewards in hell, a thousand thousands of displeasing motions, disquieted their discontented minds, dishonoured as they thought by the virtues of King Richard, disgrace boiling in her greatest heart, could no longer be suppressed, but needs the flames of fury must break forth, and a flattering practice of revengement mollify their intolerable torments, and in this manner was it accomplished.  
Prince Philip the only son and heir apparent to Don john, the pride and hopes of Austria, in whose life and good Fortune consisteth his country's honour, like a desperate and prodigal gallant, in a dissembling shape of friendship, challenged King Richard at a Princely tournament, and in the knightly games of tilting, personally to combat hand to hand, the English King in the April of his manhood, nothing inferior in prowess to Prince Philip, having the sparks of Majesty glowing in his bosom, in a most princely manner accepted his challenge, and against the day appointed, provided all things fitting for so noble an enterprise.  
Time with his lazy wings, seemed to fly too slowly, and to cross the forward attempts of these youthful combatants, each minute seemed an hour, each hour a day, and each day a month, till the appointed time came of this royal tournament, so bold, forward, and illustrious were these martialists, the one striving for honour, the other for revenge.  
I need not here speak of the sumptuous preparations, the exceeding charge, and costly habiliments provided against that day, numberless were the eye-witnesses of this Courtlike pastime, ready prepared to bid them welcome with a gracious applause. To come to the fullness of this glory, the day approached, the morning Sun cheerfully rose with a bright smile, the crystal Sky put on her fairest rob, and the moderate air seemed to further their proceedings, all things by nature were as furtherers to summon them to Arms, Don john himself attended by his greatest Nobility, sat as Umpires in the case, and each Lady with a prepared eye, was ready to censure of their deserts, the tilting place being railed in quadrangle-wise, round about beset with lofty galleries, whereon people in degrees were placed in such multitudes, as memory itself could hardly number: the Sun beams had not more motes by imagination, than this theatre spectators, equally wishing good fortune to them both, bright honours scene being ready to begin, the Drums and Trumpets gave warning of the two combatants approach, in such a melodious manner, as both air and earth resounded, the first that entered the lists, was Prince Philip in a black caparison, his horse betrapped with sable, his beaver close, made of the fashion of a flying Griffon, his Lance and Scutcheon borne before him by a naked Indian, all agreeable to his black desires: for the steeled point of his Lance, and the kéen edge of his sword, were both empoisoned; his motto was, True honour hath no equal.  
Immediately after entered Richard of England, mounted upon a Spanish Jennet, as milk white and spotless as were his thoughts, his Armour bright and glistering, his Helmet of the fashion of a sun sparkling fire, expressing both malice and mercy. Upon his breast he had the honourable red cross of England, plaited with Arabian silk, his Motto was; Honour tainted, in vain repent.  
Thus all things in readiness for this royal tournament, the cheerful reports of relentless Drums and Trumpets, thundered a charge, whereupon the two courageous Princes, fired with resolution, so fiercely assailed each other, that a strange admiration of their manhoods possessed all the beholders. The old Duke Don john himself, sitting with a longing desire of his sons victory, was immediately discontented which the spite of Fortune, for after he had wounded the English Prince with his empoisoned weapons, to the great danger of life, courageous Richard expressing his Lion-like nature, closed Prince Philip with such a manly power, that with his heavy courtelax, at one blow he broke his neck: Folly it were to resist destiny, for even at that instant he yielded up the ghost, and in the sight of his old father embraced death.  
This sudden accident advanced not so much the honours of King Richard, as it settled fury in Don john's heart, for having lost the hopes of his Kingdom, his only son and glory of his age, like a man desperate of all good fortune, joy, and consolation, he raged both against heaven and earth, blaspheming his Creator, swearing both by God and the world, that the treasures of Europe should not redeem King Richard's life, nor the unknown treasures of the deep Ocean (were they laid at his feet) preserve him from a dishonourable death: for (quoth he) in losing my Son, the sight of the World displeaseth me, I will pine in grief, I will famish with woe, I will live foodless, feeding upon nothing, but desires of vengeance. Assist me thou spirit of destruction, that in wrath I may confound the murderer of my son, in whose life I more delighted, then in my royal crown: for in wanting him, I live as a forlorn, woeful, and deposed King, exiled and banished from this world's royalty: my second soul adores the smallest drop of thy dear heart's blood, shall be quittanced with the purple goad of King Richard's bosom. Having spoken these, or such like words, he commanded the Marshal of Austria, to take the English Prince unto his charge, and to keep him close prisoner in a square Tower of Marble stone, adjoining to the uttermost part of his Court, and likewise to discharge all the followers of his Country, upon pain of death not any one of them to be seen in his territories after the date of seven days. All which according to the angry Duke's command, was by the Marshal speedily accomplished, the woeful King he to prison, and his sorrowful followers to their native country, where his loyal Subjects made not a little moan for his hard misfortunes; Don john with his Nobility mourned as grievously for Prince Philip, whom in most solemn manner they interred in a Princely Tomb, where we will leave him sleeping in peace, and persevere in this our woeful History.  
King Richard having now neither Crown, Kingdom, nor liberty, but (by his late received wounds, from Prince Phillip's poisoned weapons,) lay bleeding in prison, to his lives greatest danger, and being destitute of friends, and all hopes of recovery, he dolefully breathed out this lamentation.  
Oh unjust Fortune (said he) why in the prime of youth hast thou thus deceived me, and by thy flattering promises of advancement thus betrayed my Knightly adventures? Those blessed wars, where the standard of Christ by their encouraging flourishes, makes cowards inconquerable, must by me be forsaken, and my unhappy days by Don john's unprincely doom, have ending, sweat with tears.  
Oh you ingrateful walls, that with your pitiless bounds clasps in a royal Prince; merciless woe like a cruel tyrant feeds upon my heart, and the sun shine of delightful consolation is now for ever dimmed with the black clouds of despair, banished be all hopes of liberty, and the freedom that attends on Kings, is kerbed with the base penance of captivity: far more fortunate is the humble estate of the Ploughman's life, he suffers only the cross of private disgraces, when principalities endure the general scandal of dishonour, wherein Kingdoms, and the glory of Diadems, lose their illustrious dignities. Where are now all my courtly trains of starbright Nobility, my attendant followers, my gardiants, and humble servitors, my pompous state, royal banquet, and delightful music, all so my souls eternal grief, now vanished, and converted into continual lamentations: no fellowship have I to comfort me, but discontent, sighs, and melancholy despair: Care is my food, and tears my drink, nothing but the imaginations of woe, intercepts all hopes of freedom.  
Oh unhappy England, thou nurse and mother of my life, dishonoured in thy King's disgraces, and made most miserable by this injurious and most unprincely dealings, Heaven I hope with black vengeance, deadlier than the fear of hell, will in time spy out a most dreadful quittance, written in the bloody brow of a cursed Austria, stained with inhuman murder of a King, whose death the child as yet unborn shall rue, and after ages shall speak off: pity my distresses thou revenger of mankind, that my soul may sleep in peace, and rest in that blessed mansion prepared for monarchs.  
These or such like heartbreaking complaints being breathed from his grieved bosom, the pain of his empoisoned wounds so enraged, and so furiously tormented his body yet bleeding that (poor King,) he fell into a swoon, lifeless, and breathless, saving a little panting breath moved in his breast, a sign that the sparks of life were not quite extinguished. But now, ever as this sudden trance assailed King Richard, there entered into the prison the Lord Martial, under whose charge he was then kept, where when to his great amazement he beheld as he supposed, the King bereft of life, having a mind framed of a noble disposition, began to pity his misfortunes, and to accuse his Lord and Master of injustice, whereupon according to his gentle nature, he dressed his wounds with a precious kind of balm, by nature so excellent, that it not only recovered life, but also health, and in less than in three days, made him as sound as he was before his combat with Prince Philip, where we shall leave King Richard, making his prayers to heaven for his delivery from death, and speak of other accidents that followed hereafter.   

CHAP. II. How the two English Earls of Arundel and Oxford, disguisedly comforted King Richard in prison, of the love betwixt him, and Clarabella the Duke's daughter; how he how he pulled out the lions heart, and thereby came to be called Richard Cordelion, and of other accidents.  
ACcording to the heavy and bitter command of the angry Duke, (in revenge of his sons death,) the Nobility and Knights of England departed Don john's Kingdom, leaving the woeful King in prison, as ashamed of so hapless a voyage, where being no sooner come, and the reports thereof bruited in the ears of the Earls of Arundel and Oxford, but like two English spirited gallants, not able to brook this foreign disgrace, they resolutely departed England, protesting either to bring their Sovereign Lord safely to his Kingdom, or to leave their bodies buried in Austria: that blood (quoth they) spent in the honour of our King and Country, is the sweet sacrifice of Knighthood, and the true vermilion colour, that beautifies the rich robes of honour.  
Thus nobly minded, they with all speed crossed the Seas, which they were joyful off; so with so glorious a burden, and the whistling wind, proud of these Princely resolved Gentlemen, loving kind, and loyal, set open their gentle portals, and beyond the expectation of man, set them safely upon the costs of Austria, where being no sooner come, but they attired themselves in the disguised habits of Friars, the most secret, and fittest policy to attain the wished presence of their imprisoned King, and by that means thought they to relieve him, if his extremity so much required; so coming to the prison gate in a professed zeal, as they said they had of King Richard's souls health: they desired access, and that the Lord Martial would admit them to the King's presence, who being a man of a courteous nature, could do no less than grant their request, being so honest and virtuous a demand.  
Frowning Fortune began now a little to smile, and a little to ease his languishing sorrows: for no sooner had his gentle eyes cast their dim sights (almost blinded with tears) upon his two dear friends, but a sudden rejoicing hope assailed his heart, and like a royotous heir newly possessing his patrimony, surfeited in pleasure, all despairing passions by the delightful presence of these two English Earls, were immediately converted into jollity, their embraces were as the closes of new married Damsels, where the extremity of joy so swelled in their bosoms, that even their eyes distilled tears, (and their hearts as it were danced.) These two supposed Friars had no other Orisons, but comfortable reports from his loyal Subjects in England: their Books were their loves, and their Beads their fealties.  
Thus in this secret manner unsuspected of any, repaired they daily to this distressed King, expecting hourly his lives metamorphoses, either of liberty or death: Freedom, or confusion, royalty, or captivity: in which wavering doubt, while these three subjects of sorrow remained, the displeased Duke (still harbouring in his heart black malice, called a counsel of flattering sycophants, such as be still the attendants of monarch, where against both the law of Arms and Nations, it was decreed that King Richard should combat with a Lion, which if he overcame, his liberty thereby might be purchased; but being overcome, he should endure the sharp punishment of this merciless beast, whose greatest favour were but death: upon which pitiless doom, this bloody counsel concluded, and thereupon appointed the time and hour, to the extreme grief of many thousadns, whose whose gentle hearts even trembled at this remorseless judgement. But now mark the difference in nature of a cruel Father, and a kind Child; the Father merciless, the Child mild, the Father proud, the Child humble, the Father unreasonable, the Child reasonable, the Father cruel, the Child loving, betwixt whom tyranny and remorse strous for superiority: for Don john bore not more extreme hate against the English King, than his daughter fair Clarabella extended love: In her heart partial Cupid builded his Bower, and pity with his smooth countenance, sent dumb messengers to the distressed King, which were modest sighs, bashfully sent from her maiden-like breast, fearing to offend in affecting her Father's enemy: yet love, which hath commanded even the Gods themselves, and still blindly leads earthly monarch with unequal affections, making no difference betwixt Kings and Beggars, so ruled the desires of divine Clarabell, that she wished no other consolation in this world, but the sacred love of English Richard; whose presence (if she might possess) were to her soul as the pleasures of Paradise: duty and obedience (by nature her Father's right) were now exchanged into desire and love; the Princely behaviour of King Richard guided her thoughts, and (though as yet unknown to him) entangled her lovesick heart in the toils of Venus, wherein was no hope of recovery, but the uniting of them both in the equality of desire. These were fair clarabel's discontents, which as an uncurable wound, dismembered all the lively wishes of virginity, offending only in thought, and with the chilling fear of her second solves destruction, by the terrible censure of her angry Father, she grew like mad Medea, lunatic and distraught, expecting the savage murder of royal Richard, she railed both at Heaven and Earth, conspiring thus against all her good Fortunes: For in losing him (quoth she) the bloom of my maidenhead withereth, and I am like to pine in the languishing estate of misery: made only miserable by the Eagle like pitch of my lofty desires. In this manner spent she away the day, till the sable Canopy of Heaven covered all the earth, a time of silence, a time of peace and rest, a time that the eyes of all things closeth up: yet sleep (the comforter of distressed minds, could not lock up her eyes, for care had made them watchful, grief and distrust like two dreadful companions waited in her chamber, every idle imagination buzzed in her cares, the misadventure of her love, fight with all the misdoubts of desire, she consumed away the slow night, where every minute seemed a day till morning came, and then like a careful bride, she clothed herself in her richest attire, and by the suns rising came unto the prison, where she found royal Richard upon his Princely knee, pleading for his soul's salvation, preparing himself ready for his Lion-like combat, the night before brought to the Lord Martial in a warrant from the Duke's counsel. Farewell vain world (quoth he) thy flattering pomp hath been to me, as water bubbles in a rainy day, or as April showers, or the flourishes of Gardens, sudden and variable. Comfort me God, only in thy power is my delivery, and without thy assistance, this day is like to be my dooms day, and the last day of all my lives fortunes. At these words fair Clarabel sunk into a swoon, and so abounded in grief, that her senses were hardly recovered, but being again come to herself, she fell at King Richard's knee, and in a most mild nature, spoke as followeth.  
Most imperious Potentate, in whose happiness consisteth my lives joy, and in whose welfare my glory shineth: In thee thou pride of manhood, have I built my hopes, and in loving thee, do I purchase my father's frown, the Diadem of Austria. Now my right and patrimony do I utterly forsake, changing all my native honours into foreign hopes, and for thy sake make myself a stranger to my country; even in death springs my love, and being dead, all earthly loves in me ends: Cast me not off in disgrace, but lock my true heart in thy Princely bosom, there keep it as an inestimable jewel, pure, unspotted, and unstained, and tender as the budding Rose, blasted with the least wind of thy dislike: As for thy lives danger (sweet Prince) fear not, heaven I see with a smiling countenance, promiseth comfort, and legions of Celestial Angels stand ready armed to defend thee from that hunger-starved Lion, prepared for thy lives destruction, a death dishonourable, and unfit for so royal a person.  
In speaking these words, she took a green scarf from about her ivory neck, and gave it to King Richard, saying; Take this (sweet Prince) as the maiden-like promise of my lo●e and remembrance, wear it for my sake, it may prove thy lives preserver, and the only instrument to glut up the lions greedy jaw, even at that deadly minute, when he seizeth upon thy noble body. Pardon my immodest presumption, for desire and love emboldens me, and all my maiden like bashfulness is abolished, by the delightful presence of thy sweet self: For thee, and for thy love, have I sold all my royal promotions; Then equal it (great King) that my affection be not blasted in the bloom, and I made the most woeful and despised Lady alive.  
More would she have spoken, but that the gentle King took her from the ground, (yet kneeling) and with the delightful joy of a courteous kiss, sealed their lips together, and after gratified her kindness with this loving discourse.  
Thou fair of all fairs, thou paragon of beauty, in whose countenance (I see) sits enthronized both virtue and modesty, what undeserved favour hath true judging Heaven graced me with, in that thy inspiring love hath eluminated my cloudy Fortunes, now scowling with a dismal countenance? Were the whole world mine, and I commander of Monarchies, yet should all my dignities enrich thee, and my powerful regalties advance thee to the imperial estate of all earthly graces: This thy kindness hath enchanted me, ravished my senses, elevated my soul, and of an earthly substance, made my desires immortal. Now fly I with the wings of good chance, which nothing can clip, but the sharp sickle of despiteful death: For death (I know) with his gasily visage, walks here invisibly, with his tyrannous command, ready to seize upon me: now is the hour of my lives adventure, and the minute of that fearful judgement to be put in practice, to the appeasing of Prince Phillip's angry ghost.  
At this word speaking, came in the Lord Martial with an armed guard, having a commission to conduct King Richard, to a square Court walled round: wherein was a Shée-Lionesse newly bereaved of her Whelps, to make her the more mankind: about which Court sat the Duke and his Barons in a gallery, to behold this unnatural tradegy: unto which place being come, attended on a far off, by the Princess Clarabell, who with tears and sighs did not a little solicet heaven for his strengthener: all which forced pity from the hearts of his enemies, and might have mollified even Tigers to relent.  
The two English Earls of Arundel and Oxford, his approved friends in misery: High spirited, and full of resolution, attended as before in their friars habits, feeding him (as the beholders supposed) with the food of divine counsels: but indeed with the animation of courage imbouldening him to take his fortunes patiently, and to think of the honour of his Country, by whose death England was widowed, and his subjects made Kinglesse.  
These motions of encouragement, bred in his manly heart an inconquerable strength, committing his life to the disposing of fate: He stripped himself from all Courtlike habiliments, and in his cambric shirt, with fair clarabel's scarf wrapped about his arm, he stood prepared for the entertainment of the remorseless Lion, which at the sound of a Trumpet was let lose, whose roars were as thunder from the clouds, and in whose grim visage sat the fearful precedent of destruction; heartbreaking afflictions possessed all his well willers, and the quivering fear of his confusion assailed every gentle eye, excepting Don john and his associates. To be short, the Lion like the galfe of burning Acheron▪ gaped to receive the royal body of King Richard, who neither fearing death, nor the threatenings of tyranny, with an unknown courage, he most valiantly thrust his arm (wrapped about with fair clarabel's silk scarf) into the gaping jaws of the over-furious Lioness, and by the force of his manhood to are out his savage heart, (yet leaping warm in his hand) and threw it at Don john's face, saying; Take that thou monster of humanity, thou unprincely Potentate, heaven thou seest hath defended me, to the wonder of ages, and thy vile disgraces. General was the applause, the intolerable vexation of the wrathful Duke, who like an untamed Panther, rose from his seat, and in great wrath departed. King Richard seeing the Lioness heartless and lifeless, lying on the ground, to the great amazement of all the beholders, yielded the glory of this victory to the all-seeing praises of Heaven. No little joy had the two English Earls at this lucky successe●, but especially the heart of divine Clarabell danced in delights.  
Never had Lady the like cause of content, nor never Lady more bound to thank the Almighty powers of heaven. The relieved King, as the ignorant Lamb newly escaped from the bloody fury of the Wolie, with a countenance of a crimson blush, declared the like gladness, and in most kind manner cast the reflecting beams of his eyes toward Clarabell, that she well perceived his courteous thoughts, and that grateful thanks harboured in his Princely heart After the Duke's departure, the whole company soon broke off, bearing a secret favour to the English King, who by fair Clarabell, the Earls of Arundel and Oxford, with some few other attendants of England, conducted him to a private chamber, where after some refreshing repast, they prepared for England, but not meaning discourteously to leave fair Clarabell behind, caused her to be attired in the habit of a Court Page, in a suit of watched coloured velvet, to signify the trueness of her love, (for his sake) in refusing both Country, Parents, and Kindred, and in this sort to become estranged from all her acquaintance. Such an imperious God is love, and so commanding.  
The next day, unknown of any of the Duke's Court, but the Lord Martial, who assisted them in all their proceedings, they took leave of Austria, and journeyed toward England, where by the way King Richard and fair Clarabell, so secretly closed in affections, that her blooming bud of virginity was cropped, and the quittance of his love-stroake sealed in her womb, a condition of such content, as both pleasure and desires pleased each party. Clarabell in her Page's attire, seemed in decentness to exceed Ganemede, Ioues minion, or wanton Adonius the delights of Venus. Never had Paris the Trojan Prince, a greater conquest in the love of fair Helena, then royal King Richard, of his admired Clarabell. Nature in her greatest pride, framed this beautiful Lady, as then the only miracle of woman kind, he muses in her praises may write eternally. and those lasting reports which advanced so many Grecian dames, may now tell, and forever speak off the superabounding graces of this fair Lady, that like unto that Angell-faced Rosamond, wrought wonders in all eyes.  
No other comforts could possess the King's fancy, but this celestial Lady, Europe's admiration, and the world's glory. In this ravishing content spent they the time away, till happy Fortune se● them safely upon the shores of England, whose sweet sight was as ioyf●ll to them all, as the return of banished exiles to their w●shed dwellings. This joyful day of their arrival in England, was by the King and his Counsel canonised for a holy day, being the third of March, and to thi● time called Saint Richard 〈◊〉 our English Almanacs can yet testify. King Richard having again taken possession of his Kingdom, and imperial dignity, first gracing his two dear friend of A●undell and Oxfor●, ●o●th commendable ad●●ancement for their loves and loyaltie●, then preparing in his City of London a royal lodging ●o● his fair love, near unto Cheapside, called his Tower Royal, Men royal (as he said) in harbouring so fair a Paramour, as was divine Clarabell: In this place repaired he full often unto her, and tasted of those delights in nature, spotting her name with the title of a King's Concubine. Long was he lulled in the cradle of pleasures, careless of honour's advancement, neglecting his country's fame: knightly Chivalry was converted to courtly dances, the lullabies of idle pastimes rocked him asleep, till the disgraces of England (received by his late imprisonment) awaked him, and called to arms: Then rousing up his Knightly courage, like Fame's darling (being set amongst his Barons) he said as followeth. Now Fire and Sword, the two instruments of consuming war, shall forage Austria, and by the kingdoms ruin, work me a sweet revenge.  
My wrongs there received by the unjust decrees of Don john, shall be quittanced with more than common spoils, his Court shall swim in blood, his turret's flame in fire, heaps of mangled men, choke up his streets, woe upon woe, shall beset him round.  
Troy in her ten years wars did not endure more calamities than Austria shall shortly suffer. These and such like high spirited speeches, did King Richard speak amongst his Lords, to the great encouragement of them all, and so fired their lusty bloods, that well were they that could the most gallantliest set forth themselves, and be the most forwardest in his noble enterprise.  
So desirous were all estates, and so willing in this noble war, that in less than twenty days the King was the royal General of fifty thousand Soldiers, all provided so manfully, as if they had gone to make a new conquest of jerusalem. In which honourable journey we will leave him, and also the preparation that Don john made to withstand him, and his army, and speak of the birth of Faukonbridge, borne and kept secretly in King Richard's Tower royal, with many other strange events that happened in the birth of this Princely babe.   

CHAP. III. Of the birth of Faukonbridge, and how he came to be so named: and likewise how he was nursed by the Queen of Fairies. Fair clarabel's lamentation for the loss of her young son, and of other accidents.  
TIme the conclusion of all events, brought to the world's eye, the springing womb of Clarabell, and nearly ten Moons had now wandered out their waned courses, when as therein King Richard's royal fruit began to grow ripe and ready to fall, against which joyful hour, the careful Lady spared for no cost, and with her dear relenting heart solicited heaven for a happy delivery, the only desire of all women. I will not speak of the tender natured Nurses, the diligent Midwives, nor the rich furniture provided against that time: needless it were to report the sumptuousness of banqueting dishes, nor the variety of services belonging to so noble a business, most honourable and gracious were all the proceedings of this her Christianlike childbirth, not any displeasing object hindered her content, nor any way disquieted her mind, but only the want of her beloved, whose presence in her eye had been more delightsome than the pleasures of Elysium: Little supposed she that King Richard had taken arms against her Father, the success whereof would have but bred a strife betwixt love and nature: For nature in reason took her Father's part, when as love leaned to her Lord, yet shrouded were all imaginations in the closet of secretness, and she least report thereof sounded in her ears. Unknown were all these proceedings: For King Richard at his departure gave commandment not to reveal them, till heaven had brought light to the fruit of her body. To be short, the minute approached of the Babes coming into the World, a sweet tender blossom, a most joyful wish for the pained Mother, who being borne, was to the beholders an excellent piece of nature's workmanship, upon whose Infant brow sat the promises of good Fortune.  
After the Midwife (according to her manner) had trimmed up the sweet Babe, and showed him naked (to the other women her associates) being a man child, upon his breast it had the picture of a golden Faulkon, soaring over a most dangerous bridge, the which being showed as a wonder in nature, the honourable Ladies in the King's Court, by whose means it was generally reported through the Land, and after called in Christendom, by the name of George Lord Faukonbridge: A title fitting for so noble an Imp of virtue, being descended from so royal a stock (as was King Richard and fair Clarabell.) But to come to our purpose, before one month had run out thirty days, to the more than common grief of the mother, the tender Infant lying in his cradle, attended on by three careful nurses, even at the middle hour of the night, when the silver Moon in her greatest glory danced on the crystal Seas, even at that silent hour when the God of Dreams governed the World, there was heard in the chamber such a melodious sound of Music, as if it had been the harmony of Angels, or the singing Cherubins of Heaven, which in a bewitching manner so enchanted the wakeful Nurses, that their eyes closed, and their senses yielded to sound sleeps.  
In this still time of silence, came in the Queen of Fairies, with a troop of her invisible attendants, being the pretty dancing Elves of an unknown Kingdom, and stole away young Faukonbridge out of his Princely cradle: whose miss (at his Nurses waking) bred such an amazement amongst them, as almost procured lunacy, and forced them (like Bacchus' froes) to run madding up and down, not knowing in what manner to answer this their negligence: But yet this grief of theirs, was but the induction to the true maze of calamity: the woeful mother (unhappy Clarabell) made hapless, miserable, and most woeful, by the loss of this her sweet Babe: this dear collop of her own flesh, being so dearly fed with her own blood, forty weeks cherished in the Closet of her womb, and even now (contrary to all expectation) by the loss of it, to be bereaved of all worldly consolation. Oh thou unjust guider of man's life (quoth she) what secret sins have I committed against thy commanding deity? what black offence hath now dimmed the clear beams of mercy, that her eluminating glory is thus withholden from me? Why had it not been strangled in my womb, and made Death's sacrifice before it had saluted the World's eye? then for the want thereof had I not thus mourned, nor the title of a mother thus unhappily wrought my heart's discontent. Weep eternally (oh mine eyes) till you grow blind with lamentations; break heart with swelling sobs, split and burst asunder: Nothing but motions of cross chances intercepts my imaginations, consuming sorrow (like a wasting tyrant) revels in my distresses: Not any comfortable thought will in mercy seize upon my soul, pity is fled, remorse banished, and gentle relenting passions, works wonders in my griefe-tired heart.  
Now this sudden loss of her young son, gave her an occasion to desire the presence of King Richard, that in his company she might a little ease her sobbing bosom, and that an equal partition of grief might be made betwixt them, considering half of mischances spite belonged to him, being the Father, and begetter of this blooming Faukonbridge: But when she had intelligence of his departure for Austria, and of his revenge pretended against her Father's Country, and her native soil, and birthplace, a sorrow beyond human imagination assailed her heart, and a grief (beyond the misery of Hecuba Queen of Troy, having lost one and twenty sons) seized upon her soul: words were not sufficient, tears of no force, sighs sobbing in blood, could not reveal the least part of her bitter anguish: All the tongues that ever spoke, all the pens that ever writ, nor all the books that ever was, could more tell, writ, or contain, the true manner of the disquietness of this sorrowful Lady, the true pattern of grief sat heavily upon her cloudy brow, and her eyes sparkked as it were streams of afflictions, day and night spent she comfortless away, food was as poison to her body, sleep as strange company, loathsome: solitary silence wrought her the best case: nothing but idle visions of discontent appeared before her: sometime she supposed that grim-fast death with legions of worms sat devouring the tender body of her young bade: Sometime again, she imagined that an army of Angels conducted the pretty Imp into the blessed kingdom of heaven: by and by again, that wild beasts and raving Fowls, banqueted with his tender limbs: one while she thought it lay starving in the fields frozen to death with cold, another while parched with the beams of the hot Sun: A thousand doubts had she of the misadventure of this young babe, believing never to see it more, but that the dooms day of his lives ending had concluded all his Fortunes. Upon which resolution, she exempled herself from the company of all people, excepting one ancient Gentlewoman, that daily attended in her Chamber, which brought her such necessaries as sufficed nature, where like the picture of woe, unbrast, and disrobde of all Ladylike attires, with dishevelled hair hanging down to the earth, we will leave her in this her Tower-royall, so called by the reason of her royal beauty, to the bitterness of lamentations, fitting so sorrowful a Princess, and speak of the fearful Fortunes, that the three nurses had. After young Faukonbridge was in the possession of the fair Queen, the eldest of these unhappy nurses, was a widowed Lady of the Court, of a clear complexion, fair and beautiful, whose face declared the lamentable show of discontent. Poor sorrowful soul, after the young Infant was thus taken away, not knowing by what means, nor by whom, considering this her negligent care proved a scandal to her reputation, she exempted herself wilfully from the society of people, and gave herself to travel, protesting by the sacred Majesty of Heaven, to leave no kingdom unsearched, nor no nation unseen into, till she had found out young Faukonbridge, and brought him again safely unto his careful mother. The second of these woeful nurses, being a rich London Merchants wife, in like manner (in penance for this her negligence) put herself unto a heavy task, which was, to refuse all the joys of marriage, not to take the fruition of her husband's love, not to sleep upon downy beds, but to rest herself upon the hard ground, making the dusty earth her pillow, where sighs and sobs were her only companions, care her chamberlain, and grief her guardian, not any motion of delight could any more seize upon her heart, but all her meditations were still made upon the wished return of young Faukonbridge. The third and last, but not the least woeful of these grieved nurses, was a plain, wholesome natured countrywoman, of a complexion like unto the Shepherds of Idea Mountains, never more fairer were the tripping Nymphs of Diana, sporting upon Cypress banks, nor never did nature frame woman more beautiful: upon her cheeks the lily and the rose strove for supremacy, and the vermilion blush of her beauty wrought desire in all eyes, even love himself danced in her countenance, yet all these rich gifts of nature, were quite blemished by the sudden fright taken at the loss of this tender babe, whose absence was as the bitter doom of death, and transformed all her wont graces into pale fear, her face by it was changed into the shape of an ashy visage, or the wan countenance of a long dead body, all earthly consolation ended, no hope had she of her former joy; despair, black melancholy, deadly hours, and unlucky thoughts harboured in her pensive bosom, and by the loss of that sweet Infant, (at whose birth even the Muses danced,) all following good Fortune (was quite from this Nurse exiled:) and as a punishment therefore, for her negligence, she promised by a solemn vow made secretly with her own heart, never to taste other food, but roots, herbs, and such things as grew in the desert woods, nor never to drink other liquor but clear water, taken from running rivers, her companions were sylvan beasts, and fowls of the air, which in their natures seemed to assist her in this her languishing life: long lived she, with the rest of her woeful partners, making their daily orazons for the sweet return of this royal babe, for whom the whole land in great sorrow mourned, whom we will leave till another time, and persever in these following events that happened to King Richard, being wading in Austria through Seas of blood.   

CHAP. FOUR A woeful report of King Richard's death. Of fair clarabel's lamentation for the same. Of her grievous punishment by famine, and of other accidents.  
AFter some little ease, like the sweet return of some long absent friend, had mitigated the inward sorrows of fair Clarabell, and that a little the remembrance of her Infant's loss, somewhat ceased her former laments, thinking to cheer her sad heart with infusing delights, that she hoped to enjoy by the sweet presence of King Richard, wishing hourly his company, little dreaming of his departure for Austria, but that he revealed in his own Court, to her great joy, and his own renown, that at his first arrival into her presence, they might like Mars and Venus surfeit in delight, or like Paris with his Helena, seal up the true quittances of desire, but all was not as she wished; for her hearts beloved, King Richard, flourished in the royalties of belona's battles, wading in blood, and mounted upon his undaunted courser, treading upon mangled men, and marching after the cheerful melody of war.  
Which when the poor distressed Lady hard off, like a condemned exile, banished from all solace, she exclaimed against cruel destiny, reviling the angry Queen of chance, accounting all her hopes ominous, and herself the only pattern of misfortunes.  
Oh (quoth she) what unlucky planet predominated my birth? why was I borne to these miseries? I live destitute of friends in an unknown kingdom, dishonoured with the title of a Courtesan, a pointing mark for virtuous Ladies, a stain of womanhood. Oh why was I borne to commit so foul a sin, that blemisheth the glory of all Princes? Oh unkind King Richard, now I see thou heapest upon my back a second misery, as thou hast disrobed me of virginity, making me neither wife, widow, nor maid: so wilt thou orphan me, and entitle me by the name of a parentlesse child: Woe upon woe I see pursues me, calamity, discontent, sorrow, despair, yea, and all the miseries that ever hapless woman endured, now like whirlwinds, or tempestuous gusts, tumbles my care killed heart into the gulf of unpitied afflictions; be just thou punisher of black trespasses, for my scarlet sins knock at Heaven gates for revenge, and my desert exceedeth Tarpies that sold Rome, or the daughter of Ninus that betrayed her father's kingdom: for even as the Viper I feed upon my Parent's woe, and as the curse of nature, have gloried in disobedience, what good fortune can I challenge at the hand of destiny, in loving my father's foe? yielding that unrecovered gem to his pleasure, as being well bestowed, might have merited the world's fame; but being lost to satisfy his lust, hath placed me (for a strumpet) in the black book of infamy? who can pity my extremities, or what gentle eye will vouchsafe thereat to shed one tear? Tears from a remorseless bosom are most comfortable dews, and the sweet waters of hearts ease. These, or such like passions breathed she from her discontented bosom, which manner of lamentations once a day she made to the sightless air, till the time of six months overpassed, at the end whereof, there arrived at her lodging, the two Earls of Arundel and Oxford, newly returned from Austria, being the only counsellors to King Richard in all his proceedings, which two Lords brought the heaviest news that ever nearly touched England, such news that might even have broke a savage heart, news of death and dolour, the signification thereof sat like characters in their foreheads, and as it were made dumb shows of discontent, being with heavy countenances both come into the presence of Lady Clarabell, the good Earl of Arundel said as followeth. Prepare (sweet Lady) with a gentle silence, to entertain the woefullest tale that ever man at arms reported, for it tells of blood and death, and of the ruin of imperious sovereignty. Know fair Clarabell that in one day by the fury of relentless war, thou hast lost both thy Father and thy Love: First thy Father when the battles joined, closed with high spirited Richard in such Princely resolution, as even fired his whole army with the lively sparks of valour, and so proudly managed himself against the gun-shot of chance, as if Hector and Achilles combated each other. On the other side English Richard, under whose ensigns ourselves marched so nobly, and so beyond expectation he behaved himself, as if Mars fought upon the earth, both Heaven and Earth thundered forth their glories: Our two Armies were in number like the Camp of Scythian Tamburlaine, which (as it were) made the huge earth to groan.  
Never since the ten years wars at Troy, did man's eye behold so numberless a multitude, all valiant, fearless, and adventurous; we for the honour of England, they for the honour of Austria: Seas of blood covered the green fields, and the feet of horses trampled out dead men's brains, the cries of dying soldiers seemed like thunder, and the christ all Air spread forth her sable Canopy, mourning at so woeful a massacre. After thousands lay breathless on the hungry earth, glutted with the blood of so many thousand Christians, the victory grew so doubtful, that Lady Fortune sat wavering, not resolved to what side to yield it: But woe is me, even than the glory of both our Armies faded, and the eluminating light of two Princes was by consuming death extinguished: Austria lost royal Don john, your Father, and we imperious Richard our King. Two such losses, as Europe for them weeps blood, and may well consume in grief: Upon whose deaths, both our Armies sounded retreat, a peace proclaimed, and both their bodies had such funerals as befitted the persons of such high dignities.  
Our Leaders and Captains (having lost their Princely General, embraced peace, and with the sword sheathed, Colours rolled up, and with heavy hanging countenances, are now arrived in England, where (with the general consent of the whole Nobility) we have crowned john his brother, King of this Country, whom in all allegiance we will henceforth honour and obey. More would they have spoken, but the grief of Clarabella so abounded, that she could keep silence no longer: but in great extremity of passion burst out into these speeches.  
Here (quoth she) let the World end; for the terrible extremity of woe (like the raging Ocean,) breaks in, and overflows all my joys: I have lost my Father, Friends, Country, Kindred, Acquaintance, yea, and my Child: and the dearest of all jewels, Royal King Richard, by whose death I am made most unfortunate.  
Descend some unlucky star, fall upon me you fatal planets, and strike me blind, that my sightless eyes may behold no further miseries. Where art thou mischance? afflict me with some fearful confusion; that like the wife of Oedipus, the whole World may report my shame. heavens blessings (I see) hath refused me, and like an outcast loaden my blood-red heart with more than earthly sorrow, and with which it is rend, torn, and most lamentably tormented.  
At these words she offered to tear forth her own eyes, had not the gentle advice of the two Earls persuaded her to patience, which she willingly embraced, and so for that time parted company: She to her sorrowful closet, they to the new refined Court, where (after K. john had intelligence of the successes of Clarabella, sent to her a commission of banishment, with a commandment that no English subject upon pain of death, should give her any sustenance of food, whereby her wantonness might be scourged with pining famishment: a grievous and severe penance, deserving the name of heathen tyranny. But such was the indignation of King john, and so violent in wrath, that even death quittanced her favourites. (Poor map of misery!) she was forced to forsake Courtly fashions, and to exchange her costly attires into beggars weeds: she that had wont to feed upon the variety of dainties, was now sufficed with course services, no otherwise then with those things that satisfied hunger-starved hounds: many a little dog (in the laps of young wantonness) had more abundance of food than this gallant Lady had. Day by day walked she comfortless up and down the streets, moaning her own misfortunes, yet unpitied, and left to her complaint. Night by night wearied she out the long hours with remembrances of her former life, where every minutes thought begot new grief, and every thought of new grief almost split her heart: sighs were as common objects to satisfy her discontents, being displeased with all things she cast her eye upon. Not any comfortable motion could she entertain, wearied she grew of the wanton world, not knowing which way to turn herself: Misery followed her up and down; when she remembered Austria her Father's Kingdom, disobedience cut her heart, when she called to mind her Virginities wrack, a thousand woes (joined with repentance) overwhelmed all ensuing hopes, and almost cast her into desperation, she supposed pity to be deaf, and the tender remorse of human gentleness to be shut up against her. She that lately abounded in plentuousness, now lived in want of a beggar's pittance, she only fed upon sorrow: Sighs were her food, and tears her drink, woe, misery, and penury, in most extreme manner, tormented her pining carcase, till poverties thin countenance converted her roselike cheeks into a pale complexion: her hollow eyes seemed like the empty cells of death, sorrows badge (which is a wrinkled brow, declared to the world pitiful prospects, to the wring handed grief of the beholders, which were not a few in number.) See into this globe of misery (you blazing stars of Christendom) you flourishing Damsels, that sells your body's pleasures to make your souls black: You that live by the spoils of youth, making a pastime of wantonness, gathering to yourselves the hated names of common Courtesans, corrupted with most vile diseases, loathsome and full of leprosy. To overpass many woes, poor Clarabell endured in this pining penance, we will leave her lying upon the bare earth (by a spittle gate) only for an example to all such careless livers, being too simple a lodging for a Prince's daughter, and return to the succeeding event of young Faukonbridge, and those three unhappy Nurses, seeking for this Babe of honour.   

CHAP. V How young Faukonbridge was found by King john in his hunting. How he preserved his Mother's life (unknown to him: And likewise how he succoured the three Nurses; and of the three gifts given him by the Queen of Fairies.  
NOw must we suppose Time (in his swiftest course to run along) and some certain years to pass over the head of Faukonbridge, where (taking leave of the Fairy Queen,) he had three of the richest gifts given him by her, as never worldly man was owner off. The first was a garment made him of the lions skin, that his Father Richard Cordelyon slew in Austria, of virtue so precious, that the wearer thereof should never faint in courage, but ever continus Victor in all achievements. The second a purse of gold, of such a plentiful treasure, that can never grow empty, but as it is taken forth, the virtue thereof replenisheth it again, by which means it continues full. The third a ring of such inestimable price, that by the touch thereof healeth all diseases (never so dangerous and uncurable.) These were the blessings of the Fairy Queen bestowed upon this young gallant, which he received as his patrimony, and kept them as the only gifts of good Fortune.  
Thus being of the age of fifteen years, he continued in the woods (like unto a savage satire) unacquainted with worldly people, roving up and down, until such time as King john of England, (his uncle by the Father's side) found him in his wild quality: but seeing him replenished with such lineaments of nature, strong, and sturdy, as promised ensuing honours: He took him to his keeping, and gave him in charge to an ancient Noble man of his Court, to be trained up, and taught perfectly his natural English tongue, which he most speedily accomplished to his high renown: whereupon the King soon advanced his estate, and made him groom of his privy chamber; but he having the lofty spirit of Knighthood springing in his breast, aimed at nobler adventures, and to win credit by the strength of his body, desired the Kings leave to departed his Court, and to try foreign achievements in the honour of God and his Country: which princely request did not a little content the King, whereupon he gave him a horse well furnished with all the abiliments fitting so resolved a Gentleman, and with all graced him with the picture by nature set upon his breast. Thus after leave taken, like one of Fame's darlings, this knightly Faukonbridge in the spring-time of his youth, committed himself to fortunes fickle favours, where after he had traveled some few days journeys from the English Court, he arrived at the gate of an Hospital, whereat lay Clarabell his unknown mother, begging for relief, with these lines graven over her head upon the wall in capital letters, according to King john's commandment.  

A Prince's daughter by the King's decree,  
Here pines in care, stand still, and pass not by,  
Till this poor map of perfect misery,  
With wring hands heaved up to heaven high,  
Tells how her wanton life in sin was spent,  
And why she thus makes woeful languishment.   

Pity her not, her life is stained with shame,  
By her a kingdoms ruin was begot:  
Lust and desire hath blotted her good name,  
And true repentance must make clear that spot.  
To secure her is death, authority commands,  
Against which power, lift no presumptuous hands.   
Lord Faukonbridge having read this superscription, in pity rued her estate, not knowing her to be his mother, for as yet his parents were unknown to him, yet harbouring in his breast noble thoughts, he could not choose but extend charity unto her, and being the first of his adventures, and the maidenhead of his mercy, the first good deed that ever he did, therefore he willingly alighted from his palfrey, and in tender pity took the half starved Lady by the hand, saying; If thou be'st descended royally, as these letters witness that thou art, I am bound in all knightly courtesies to defend thee, and in maugre of black Fortune's spite, secure thy distressed estate, as it seems now the world's outcast. Tell me fair Lady thy name, thy birth, and abode, and as I am sworn true Knight, I will be thy champion, and conduct thee safely into thine own country. These gentle promises made by Lord Faukonbridge, aspired new life into her fading body, who with a cheerful countenance spoke as followeth:  
Dear Knight thy desert I know not, but surely thou seemest to be gracious in all thy proceedings, and desires not I know to enforce a Lady, to speak of that which will break her heart to remember: Yet because thou promisest me thy gentle aid, to deliver me from this miserable vale of woe, and set me wishedly upon the shore of my native kingdom, vilely dishonoured by my wilful follies: Understand than I was borne in Austria, my name Clarabell, Princely my Father, from whom I disobediently fled for the love of a Northern Monarch, unto whom I yielded up the pleasures of my virginity, the loss whereof made me, (though no wife) yet an unhappy mother: for which black sin I am now thus punished. Question no further sweet Gentleman, for the rest will bereave me of life, but according to thy noble disposition, be my guardian, and conduct me to my native country, and the rewarder of all good deeds, will quittance your courtesies. Indeed fair Lady (quoth he) as our oaths in Knighthood be so to do, so in performance thereof I will adventure my life, though it be to the King's high displeasure. So taking her up behind him upon his horse, he carried her to the next town, and there both cheered her pining body with comfortable victuals, and after clothed her in such garments as befitted the degree of a Gentlewoman, and so set forwards towards Austria, spending the slow time away with pleasing discourses, little thinking of the near alliance that was betwixt them two, the one the mother, the other the son: but heaven meaning to show a wonder in their lives, would not as yet suffer their kindreds to be brought to light.  
So traveling on as I said before, they were intercepted by a most strange object, which were three most distressed creatures, seeming by their attires to be women, and the three nurses (in former times) of young Faukonbridge, which Clarabell full well knew, but that she feared to be discovered. The good Knight being still pitiful, beholding their miseries, the one dumb, the next blind, and the third lame. Three woeful companions, whom age and time had thus crossed with heavy calamity, he like a true godly minded man, with that ring which the Fairy Queen had given him, cured all their maladies, the virtues of it being so excellent, that it no sooner touched their dismembered bodies, but immediately they were all made perfect, the lame could go, the blind see, and the dumb speak: which miracle done by Lord Faukonbridge, according to the will of heaven, enforced tears through extreme joy, to fall from the three recovered Nurses eyes, desiring the maker of all things to reward his courtesies. The good Knight, not only cured their griefs, but gave them great store of gold out of his most plentiful purse, another gift from the Fairy Queen by him received. Now these three new revived women being safe and sound, no sooner departed, but fair Clarabell greatly desired to be Mistress of two such precious jewels as this Ring and the Purse was, whereupon in most gentle manner she entreated Lord Faukonbridge to bestow them upon her, that for his sake she might were them, a favour to her heart (as she said) more invaluable than was the jewel that Mark Anthony, gave Cleopatra Queen of Egypt, gifts in his imagination, prised above the world's Monarchy, yet being loath to deny her request, he most willingly gave her them, and with his own hand putting the Ring upon her pretty finger, and tying the rich purse by her comely side, he said, Never let Knightly prowess advance my reputation, nor record my lives fame in the book of memorable time, but let me die blotted with cowardice, the foul stain of matchless Knighthood, when I refuse to accomplish the least motion of your Ladyship's desire: for in your countenance shines honourable graces, and promiseth dignified virtue. To whom Clarabell with a modest behaviour answered in this sort: And much were I too blame (Sir knight) if I should not seek by desert to requite your kindness, and vile ingratitude as a disgrace to my calling, might be well allotted to my share: If time and good fortune ever advance me to my former estate, I will make thy credit equal Grecian Achilles, and cause the world's famous antiquaries to signify thy martial condition: thou hast bewitched me with thy virtues, and with the chain of manly carriage bound my life to thy service: Reserving my honour, I humble myself to thy nobleness, which honour only I once submitted to a King, the fruit thereof might I but live to see, my earth's content were then grown to a perfection. Living, or dead, great jove protect him: this is my orison to heaven, and upon this do I daily meditate. These mystical speeches of hers, might have lighted the fire of discovery, but that blind fate would not as yet have them known. These and such like, were the pleasurable discourses betwixt these two travelers, with the which they spent away many a long day and weary night, without any adventure worth the noting. But as Fortune is not always smiling, here she began again to frown, and to cross their desires with an unlooked for chance: For upon a hot summer's day, when the bright Sun in his greatest glory shined in the horizon, in a most intolerable heat, the poor Lady wearied with travel, sat her down to rest in a pleasant green shade of trees (where dallying with the Ring upon her lap) she fell fast asleep, during which sweet slumber, there came a huge black Raven soaring by, and thinking the yellow Ring to be some prey, which lay upon her lap, with her talents catched it up, and therewithal flew quite away, to the great amazement of Lord Faukonbridge, standing by the sleeping Lady as her guardian, and being loath to lose so rare a jewel, mounted upon his Steed, and in most swift manner followed the Raven so far, that he quite lost the presence of fair Clarabell, whom (for a while we will leave sleeping) and speak what strange adventure happened to this noble Knight.   

CHAP. VI How Lord Faukonbridge was found by the Moors, and presented to the King of Morocco. Of his adventures in that Kingdom. The lamentation of Clarabell for her passed life: and how in penance thereof, she builded a Monastery for the receipt of poor Pilgrims.  
NOble minded Faukonbridge, followed the flight of this rich prized Raven, carrying in his beak the worth of a King's ransom, not resting nor pitching upon any tree or branch, till she had let the Ring fall into the Sea, which struck such terror to the heart of Faukonbridge, (then standing upon the shore, seeing the event) that he almost cast himself after it into the waves, but that better graces guided him, and hope of better Fortunes restrained his desperateness. Standing thus amazed, and calling to mind the loss of Clarabella (whom he had left comfortless behind) sleeping in a green shade of trees, not knowing how, nor which way to return back, believing never more to behold her Angelical countenance: Therefore like a mournful traveler (losing himself in some desert wilderness) he breathed out this unpitied lamentation:  
Many and unlucky are my first adventures (quoth he) attended on by cross chances, and untoward proceedings; no motion of relief can I premeditate upon. For I am come by ill Fortune into a place of desolation, not frequented by the habitation of man: Here lives nothing but green bellied Serpents, roaring Wolves, and beasts of fearful shapes, such as may well terrify the proudest courage: Here sounds no other Echoes but the croaks of Ravens, night-Owles, cries, and the bellowing of untamed Tigers, such as thunders forth nothing but sounds of death and destruction: here is no other food to sustain nature, but wild hemlocks, henbane, and such empoisoned weeds, the only storehouse of black enchanters, witches, and charmers, the air seems to be corrupted, and the earth casts up putrefying savours, worse than the smoking lake where Sodom and Gomorra stood. In this manner complained he for the space of thrice twelve hours, looking every hour to be devoured by wild beasts, but that his Lion-like garment which he wore, made them think him to be one of their number, which savage creatures in tame manner lodged by his side.  
As he thus between fear and hope, expected present death, he beheld a Turkish galley hovering by the shore side, the Captain whereof (being a noble minded Gentleman) at the first sight of young Faukonbridge, cast a Land, where (beholding his distresses) took him aboard, which ●nlookt for favour, not a little rejoiced him: but being so happily preserved from death, most willingly submitted to their mercies, they being Moors, he a Christian: they misbelieving, he true in faith, they black, he fair, two extreme contrarieties: yet when these Heathen people beheld his face stored with such majesty, resembling the beauty of his Creator: they admired his Angelic countenance, never before that time seeing a man of his colour, but all black like themselves, therefore supposing to have found some heavenly Angel, they presented him to their King, as then keeping his Court some four mile's distance from that place, on the other side of the Sea, (being but a creek of the main Ocean) in a most sumptuous Palace, for brightness like to the Tower of the Sun.  
The Morrocco King with his black countenance, advancing himself in his royal throne, with great admiration received Lord Faukonbridge, not as a Captive, or a chained Galleyslave, but like the Darling of Majesty, or as the Paragon of Fame, sent from Heaven to glorify his Court. Legions of reports might we make of his entertainment with the Morocco King and his Nobles, who esteemed him rather to be some God, than a worldly man, more dignified honours heaped they upon his back, then ever that country gave unto a stranger. The wealth of that Kingdom made they his treasury, and masses of Indian pearls lay still at his commandment, the time of his abode there passed on apace, and jollity of his life made seven years but as a month-  
Which being overpassed, it was his chance upon a solemn festival day, which was the birth day of their King, only once in seven years solemnized, to behold the chiefest of the King's Nobility in their richest ornaments, going as it were on procession in the honour of their Prophet Mahomet. Placing him (as it seemed in heaven) to the high dishonour of the Christians God, whose wrath and indignation is the whole World's confusion, and whose favour the preservation of mankind.  
This God and living Power, was the Patron of Lord Faukonbridge, by whose favour he hoped to conquer Fats, and subdue Kingdoms: This God when he saw him thus highly dishonoured, fury possessed him, and to the great disparagement of all that heathen Nation, he desperately tore down the picture of Mahomet, and with his keen edged Scimitary cut it in small pieces, to the great amazement of the King's Nobility, who in greedy revenge furiously set upon him altogether (like a number of whelps upon a princely Lion) who so Lion-like behaved himself, that in less than half an hour, he left breathless upon the blood-dyed earth, more than six and twenty of the King's Nobles, approving here his unconquerable valour, proceeding from the virtue of his Lion like garment, which the Fairy Queen had given him.  
At this bold enterprise performed with his own hand, he caused the Moors to ring forth their Alarm Bells, and to fire their Beakons, to raise up their country forces, thinking that heaven had thither sent a confounder of mankind, and that by his only means their kingdom should be subdued.  
This matchless enterprise performed by noble minded Faukonbridge, did not a little perplex the King, nor no idle fear assailed his mind, but such a fright as made his very soul to tremble: wherefore to rid his kingdom from present danger, in most kind manner he proclaimed truce, and dissemblingly applauded Lord Faukonbridg for this desperate attempt: (and though to his grief of mind) with fair and princely promises, he persuaded this English Gallant to departed his Country: and the more to advance his deserved honours, the King bestowed upon him twelve barrels of good red gold, and withal a ship well furnished, to conduct him home into his own Country. Which kind favour was most gratefully accepted off by noble Faukonbridge, who leaving the Morocco Kingdom, put himself to Sea, committing his fortunes again to the merciless waves, but making the Pilot and Mariners believe, that the twelve barrels of gold, were but twelve barrels of red lead: a commodity most precious in his native Country. The Pilot supposing no otherwise, sailed amain with prosperous wind towards the Northern nations. In which successful journey, we will leave now Lord Faukonbridge, and return to his unknown Mother (Lady Clarabell) whom we left as you heard before, sleeping under a shade of trees, where Lord Faukonbridge began to follow the chase, after the unlucky Raven.  
Clarabell as we spoke of before in her sweet sleep, little dreaming of the absence of Faukonbridge, at her awaking, both missed him, and the ring; two losses so precious, as even caused sorrow to revel in her bosom, that joy was a stranger, and content exiled; divers were the doubts she had of his misadventures, one while she supposed death like a tyrant had possessed him, another while she feared the breach of his promise, and that he had secretly fled from her, bearing away with him the enchanted Ring: Now one thing, than another, not knowing what to conjecture, but when she saw herself quite bereft of his sweet presence, the only preserver of her life, exempted from all hope of his recovery, in great grief of mind, she betook herself to travel, and so with weary steps followed on the first path she found, wherein she wandered day and night, receiving little rest, and less food, making this sorrowful moan unto herself. Oh thou just doom (quoth she) of all offences, will thy heavy wrath be never mitigated? shall this my pining punishment never end? shall woe upon woe still pursue me? weep in tears oh mine eyes, be never dried fair lamentations: even at that hour when I hoped all sorrows to be finished, began new grief, when in losing my Son, I found a Friend, whom now wanting, I find eternal causes of discontent: It cannot be possible, but that some dismal mischance hath befallen him, or some unlucky Lot deceived me of him, there is no likelihood of his self-willed departure, for in his breast he harboured thoughts of true humanity, honour guided him, and virtue was his friend: how can it then be that of his own accord he is departed? Surely some unlucky event hath befallen him: therefore, oh my heart sob in grief, and for his sake make thy life but a pilgrimage of woe, consume in care, waste with weeping, for I have lost the Paragon of Knighthood, whose countenance promised me to advance my desired hope, and bring me safely unto the shore of my native Country: but seeing dole and discontent hath crossed all my good Fortunes, I will for his sake, with the treasure of my never emptied purse, received from him, built up a Monastery, and in the same (like a Monastic Nun) spend out my days in the service of that God that hath thus crossed me, and there be a continual comforter of distressed Pilgrims, and warfaring travelers, hoping that if life be in my dear friend, he will once again arrive in that happy place, and once more satisfy my thirsting eye with his Princely person. Being thus resolved, she traveled some three months journey from the place, where she lost her dear friend the Lord Faukonbridge, and there close by the Sea side, she builded a most stately Monastery, relieving still the wants of such distressed travelers as passed that way, yielding as well lodging, as meat and drink, to such as stood in need thereof: For the maintenance thereof, she had her enchanted purse still ready furnished; thither resorted people of all degrees, thither came Princes, monarch, and majestic Kings, that traveled in devotion to the shrine of Christ in jerusalem. Thither came worthy champions, Knights errant, and such as sought for knightly achievements: thither came religious Churchmen, Prelates, and holy minded men, zealously seeking by Pilgrimages to wipe away worldly offences, thither came Plowmen, Shepherds, Fishermen, and such as were numbered amongst the common people, thinking thereby to obtain absolution for their misdeeds, every one offering in zeal unto her great store of riches, whereof she had little need, accounting it meritorious to give towards the maintenance of so virtuous a custom. Amongst which number of Benefactors, there was one Peter a Fisherman, that in devotion of mind, presented unto her a most dainty Fish called a Dolphin, a present more fit for a Prince, than such an humble minded woman as she was, whose humility almost in that Country purchased her the name of a Goddess: This gift from the fisherman was by her most courteously received, and most bountifully requited with great store of gold, which she took from out her enchanted purse: Herewith was old Peter well pleased, and the Lady better contented, for in the Dolphin's belly she found the same Ring, which the Raven let fall into the Sea, the same Ring after which Lord Faukonbridge so unhappily followed, the same King that by the precious touch of it healed all diseases. In this accident fortune showed the pride of her glory, and brought more strange admiration into the heart of Clarabell, than ever she expected: but being possessed thereof, she verily believed that noble Faukonbridge lay entombed in the watery Kingdom, and that never more the consolation of his presence should in joyful manner delight her desireful eye: pale death (as she supposed by the finding of this Ring) had made prize of his life, too rich a jewel, as she said, for this ungrateful World, therefore in the true zeal of heart, and in remembrance of his worthiness, she caused a Faulkon of Gold to be set upon the top of the Monastery, wherein she dwelled, the bright eluminating colour thereof shined into the Sea, and was ever after that made a mark, or a guide for Mariners to sail by. Also like a courteous Lady, to quittance old Peter the fisherman's rich present, by good Fortune bestowed upon her, she canonized the Monastery, and called it after his name, Saint Peter's Hermitage a place of charity, and a receipt for all such as wanted maintenance. After this, thousands of oppressed people in this place found secure, Pilgrims and weary travelers here freely found lodging: Widows and succourless Children, here tasted bounties liberality, maimed Soldiers, and such as lost their limbs in the service of their Country, here slept upon downy beds, more softer than naples silk: Blind, deaf, and dumb, in this place found help, not any diseased creature went from hence uncured, all which by this virtuous Lady, was only done in charity for God's sake, and to appease the torments of his soul, that in guiding her to her native Country, lost his dear life. Wherefore from this day, to her lives departure, she desired the fellowship of virtue, abandoning all immodest behaviour, vowing herself to the service of Heaven, and good deeds, in which she continually strived to exceed all others of her time: which good devotions we for a while will overpass; and report of other delightful accidents, agreeing to the course of this our History.   

CHAP. VII. How Lord Faukonbridge lost himself in a barren Island. His means of recovery. The finding again of Clarabell. How these two were made known to each other. And of the great joys betwixt the mother and her Son.  
NOw is it time to report again of Lord Faukonbridge, and his fortunes on the Sea, and how his ship loaden with his barrels of gold, lay hovering on the billows, many a day expecting a prosperous wind for England, but obtained none: For fate and good Fortune crossed their hopes, and want of victuals so oppressed them, that hunger almost surprised their lives, and like a pitiless Tyrant would grant them no remorse: twice six months continued this their extremity, to the terror of all good men, a death bringing horror both to man and beast. At the last, after they had made many submissive prayers to God for a good wind, Aeolus set open his brazen gates, and sent them such a gentle gale, that they in three hours sailing, arrived upon an Island so barren, that therein they found no other thing to secure their distresses, and preserve them from famishment, but only fresh water, with the which they sufficiently stored their ship, giving Heaven thanks for so blessed a favour. But this sufficed not the desires of noble Faukonbridge, hoping to find better relief for him and his men, resolutely adventured further up into the Island, to discover if he could wherewithal to victual his ship. But woe is me to report it, this adventurous Gentleman traveled so far, that he lost his way, not being able to return back unto his company, by which means he was constrained to stay all night upon the top of a tree, for fear of wild beasts, whereof the Island was full. But now mark how unlucky all things fell out, the same night the wind rose, and so violently drove the ship from the shore, that the Pilot was enforced to leave Lord Faukonbridge a Land, and commit his Fortunes to the Sea, where before day light they were cast upon the coast where Saint Peter's charitable Hermitage was situated, they being Infidels and Moorish natured people, never expected the safety of Lord Faukonbrdge, being a Christian, but left him comfortless in the barren Island, and cast a shore where fair Clarabell abode, where coming a Land, desired her for his sake that created her, to afford them some relief, whereby their lives might be saved, and their ship sufficiently replenished with food fitting their intended voyage. Pitiful Clarabell good Lady▪ she greatly rejoiced that it lay in her power to furnish their wants, most willingly gave them entertainment, and yielded them such refreshing comforts, as preserved both their ship and lives from perishing. Likewise they meaning to express no ungrateful thanks for so kind a favour, as an humble sign of good will, courteously bestowed upon her, the twelve barrels of gold which Lord Faukonbridge reported to be red lead, all which according to her gentle nature, noble minded Clarabell received. So parting with thanks to each other, the Pilot returned to Morocco, very joyful for the riddance of Lord Faukonbridge, their Country's supposed enemy, and she no less delighted in the performance of her bountiful charity extended to the preservation of so many dying men. All this while Lord Faukonbridge remained in the barren Island, almost hunger-starved for want of food, in which place was nothing found to satisfy his gentle nature, but the flesh of wild beasts which he killed with his own hands, which (for want of fire) he roasted in the sun, and with the same, (to his content) made more pleasinger banquets, than when he feasted in the Morocco Court, only patience chief guided him, but being thus lost, and exiled from the society of human creatures, he lived a long time in the woods, in such penury and want, that his strength began to fail, sickness grew on, and danger of life tormented him for want of natural sustenance, caused a grievous kind of leprosy to grow quite over his body, in such sort, that his Princely countenance was suddenly changed into a most ugly visage, and pale death as it were sat perching upon his heavy brow, betwixt life and death, he sat him down upon the root of a dead withered tree, making this complaint unto himself. If ever pity (quoth he) entered the celestial gate of Heaven, or ever remorsfull mercy tenderly looked into the poor estate of a miserable Gentleman, then by this my lives ruin, may be seen the true pattern of calamity: woe upon me, cross upon cross, and extremity upon extremity, makes a unity, and all conspires together to work my good Fortune's confusion. Here am I now left in a wilderness of desolation, friendless without comforter, not knowing which way to get forth, but committed to the vile tyranny of untamed Tigers, even ready to entomb my dying body within their blood-thirsting bowels, a grave most unfit to close up my new created life. In speaking these words, he heard from a far, as it were out of a hollow vault, a voice sounding forth these speeches: Faulkonbridge, rise up and follow me: Fate and good chance will prosper thee. This seemed to be the voice of the Fairy Queen, his old Nurse, being still most careful of his lives preservation, as it was indeed; which no sooner echoed in the ears of Lord Faukonbridge, but he arose from under the tree where he lay, and being ready to go forward all weak and sickly as he was, he espied before, one of the Fairy Instruments, which was an Ignis Fatuis, the fire of destiny, or a going fire, which by nature fully leadeth wandering travelers out of the way. This as his guide went still before him, he with a slow pace followed after, not intercepted by any misadventure, till he came to the Sea side, where being joyfully arrived, in good time he beheld a Bark sailing by, to which he made show of entertainment, as one desirous to be taken into their ship, and to be conducted in to some better resting place: both his motions and his intent the Mariners soon perceived, whereupon they satisfied his desire, and within few ●aies set him safely upon the next inhabited kingdom, which was the happy place where Clarabell afforded such bountiful liberality. Being thither come, the Country people and such as beheld his perplexed estate, led him as diseased as he was unto clarabel's Monastery, where being arrived, and standing shaking at the gate, he desired for his sake that pardoneth all sins, and requiteth all good deeds, that she would with the oil of her skill balm his grieved pains, and with the mercy that she freely bestows upon distressed souls, cure his malady. Gentle Clarabell at this his humble request, called him in, leading him up inio a close chamber, prepared only for the comfort of such woeful creatures, in which place after she had received his drooping senses, and by the virtues of the same ring (he in former times had bestowed upon her) recovered his wont health, she seeming in his face, that beauty replenished again, which before that time she supposed to have seen, and calling to remembrance his former Favour, she perfectly knew him, whereupon seeking to embrace him, she sounded in his arms, and for the sudden joy that he received by his strange return, lay for a good season in a dying trance: but being by great diligence recovered, they recounted each to other the wonderful Fortunes passed betwixt them, from the first losing of one another to that hour, Likewise he spoke, how he neither knew Father nor Mother, nor from whence he descended, and withal (opening his bosom) he showed her the golden Faulkon, by nature pictured upon his breast, which when she beheld, her very soul, as it were elevated itself to Heaven, and more than mortal joy possessed her heart. By this she knew him to be her only Son, begot by King Richard Cordelion, King of England, and so made it known unto him. Which when good Lord Faukonbridge understood, he in the true duty of a Son newly created, down upon his knees, craved her blessing, and in great humility of mind gave thanks to heaven, in that it was his Fortune to defend his mother in an unknown Land, from so many dangers, and she likewise made many devout Orisons to God, that in his mercy had so preserved them, and in this manner brought them most strangely together.   
FINIS.