THE FAMOUS HISTORY OF MONTELYON, KNIGHT of the Oracle, and Son to the Renowned PERSICLES King of ASSYRIA.  
SHOWING His strange Birth, Unfortunate Love, Perilous Adventures in Arms, and how he came to the knowledge of his Parents.  
Interlaced, with much variety of Pleasant and delightful Discourse.  
LONDON, Printed by B. ALSOP, and T. FAUCET, dwelling in Grubstreet, near the lower Pump. 1640.   

TO THE GENTLEMEN Readers, health.  
GENTLEMEN,  
your well tried favours h●ve set me so far on fire in my further proceedings, that I, that ever hitherto followed the endeavours of Pierce Plainness, seem now ●or your pleasures to become even a bowe-fellow prodigal, spending the sum of my store to the uttermost, as long as possibly it lasteth.  
If you find any cracked coin in these my liberal expenses, yet for FOORD's sake, afford them starling, and winking at small faults, excuse me to be mistaken, and so amongst Friends may it pass for currant, I am not of the humour of the newfangling Tailor, that for every new-wrought Suit frames a new fashion: Nor of ●heir presumptuous Nature, that of themselves being but Vixins, face out their attempts with heroical Lion's looks: but I always the same, rest ever forward to entreat, careful to request, and daily addicted devoutly to attend Humility. Against biting Theon's tooth, I remain always patient proof: and the rather considering the singular sentence of one of the seven Sages, viz.  
That even as for a man of understanding, being praised to be led thereby unto a selfe-loved opinion of his own laudable parts: or as self-willed presuming on his high deserts, may seem an especial argument of no small folly: so likewise for being discommended, to remain even amort with heavy cheer, and drooping mind, figuring his sad looks, like to the Anatomy of death, is a plain proof of his scarcity of counsel, want of patience, (which Philosophers hold the sovereignest virtue that belongs to the qualified indument of mortality) and (which is worse) penury of reason, Affectus temporare suos. I propose not this Gentle Reader, as if Stoycally I regarded your judicious censure, but rather portray a Praeludium, how indifferently I can endure the divers taunting reports of the envious: as for your ever regarded judgements, I account it the sanctuary, wherein my tired sconce may find refuge, the chief gross, only whereby my feeble invention ascendeth; the Colosse that wholly supporteth my endeavours; yea I reckon it all my being, all my essence, all my good,  
As therefore with a favourable smile, you erewhile entertained Parismus and Parismenos, my elder off springs, with so cheerful an aspect; now cast your looks on my Montelyon, whose forwardness to win fame, you shall perceive nothing inferior to the promptness of the former, although by birth, and course of time the younger. Oh he can acquaint you with the wonders of Chivalry, with admirable acts and doughty deeds, supported always with a Fairy suffrage, as was Ulysses in his ten years' venture by the aid of Pallas.  
Your well-wishing acceptance, and kind conceit of him, is all the recompense I ask for my travel, and I wish no more, so (I trust) you will no less, grant this, and make my endeavours prosperous: Deny that, and leave me so utterly infortunate, as hopeless for ever of every good success: ever found bountiful in giving the one; so myself will not rest ingrateful for the other: that both in one, and one in both, may not only augment your longing pleasures, which I heartily wish, but also enrich my lasting content, which I hope you as courteously will.  
Your Well-willer, EMANVEL FORD.   

In praise of the Author.  
SHould Monuments of worthy deeds,  
Be swallowed of Oblivion:  
What Honour (whereon Virtue feeds)  
Remembered re●ts for Merits done?  
Whence shall proceed that spark of Fame,  
That sets on fire the Noble-Heart;  
For Honour of his Birth and Name:  
In Valour's Field to act his part?  
Had not great Alexander vievved  
The blazons of Achilles' praise,  
Whereat with envious Eye, he revved  
The world beyond him we should raise.  
He scarcely to subdue had sought,  
The World under his Command:  
Nor had his Conquests Honour bought,  
According to his Minds demand.  
Had not his acts been Registered,  
By Memory in worthy Write:  
And Name by Fame forth queristred,  
Maugre Oblivions misty spite.  
Stout Hector's valour who could tell?  
Who could rehearse Ulysses skill?  
With thousands, whose Exploits excel,  
If not portrayed by sovereign Quill?  
How worthy praise are Writers then,  
Whose works show to this vile-growne Age,  
The worthy lives of Valiant men,  
For Virtue's Freedom laid in gage?  
Then well deserves he that revives  
The Age-worn records of Renown?  
Contemning Envy, that depriue's  
The well deserved of Law●ell Crown.  
Thank Ford, thus offering at free cost,  
His Talon for our heart's delight,  
And reckons not his labour lost,  
If it (with kindness) we requite.   

THE HISTORY OF MONTELION, KNIGHT of the Oracle.  

CHAP. I. How Persicles was created King of Assyria, and travailed into Persia, to the Marriage of his sister Piera, to the Emperor's Son Deloratus. How he was enamoured of Constantia: and returned into Assyria.  
AN ancient King named Pius, ruled the Land of Assyria in great peace: as well Fortunate by the love of his Subjects, and other outward blessings, as with two fair children, a Son and aDaughter, that after his death should succeed in that Empire, And by reason Age was now so much grown upon him, that he found himself wearied, and unable to exercise the care that belongeth to the government of so mighty a Nation: also beholding in his Son, more than ordinary gravity, and so forward a mind to virtue, as that he might well commit a matter of such weight to his care: he determined to give himself to rest, which well agreed with his Age, and therefore caused all the Peers of his Land to be assembled.  
Which being effected, and all set in Parliament, the old King uttered his mind: which was, to establish his Son Persicles in the Kingdom. The Peers before that, as well by common report, as of their own experience having perfect knowledge of his manifold virtues, gave their general consents: And so Persicles within few days was crowned King.  
Pius having effected this according to his mind, yet could not b● at quiet until he had provided a marriage for his daughter, befitting her estate. To further which good intent, it fortuned that Deloratus Son and heir to the King of Persia, hearing of Pieraes' beauty (for so was she called) came into the Country of Assyria, and by long suit, at last obtained her good will, and her father's consent: being assured to her in the presence of most of his Peers, but for that certain conditions were to be ratified by the King his Father, the solemnisation of the marriage was deferred until that was performed: and for that time should not belong protracted, which Deloratus with earnestness hastened. Persicles with the consent of his Father, accompanied his Sister Piera into Persia, attended by a number of Gallant Knights, as well to see the conditions ratified, and the marriage performed, as also to do Deloratus honour▪ After their departure, they within few days arrived in the Kingdom of Persia, where Persicles and Piera were most honourably entertained by the old King Torsilus, and the conditions ratified.  
The Solemnisation of the marriage was deferred for certain days, for that the King of Persia determined to have the same performed with gr●at pomp, whether he invited many of his Neighbouring Kings, as of Arabia, Anatolia, and Thessalia. The knights of Persia made preparation to attend the Bridegroom in great royalty.  
Persicles being in the Persian Court, hearing what Gallants were likely to be at the wedding, prepared most rich Ornaments against that day, determining not to be the last in trial of his valour at the Tilt. The prefixed day being come, the King of Arabia, Anatolia, Thessalia, and many other Princes of great Estate, with them were arrived, and the City was filled with such a number of knights and Gallants, that there was scarce room therein to contain them. To recite every particular of their entertainments, greetings, riches, and what gallant Ladies were with them▪ would be overtedious: but in brief, there was such royal entertainment as befitted such Personages, and such a multitude of rare shows, and fine devices, as might every way please a curious beholder.  
The Marriage being past, the sumptuous Banquets ended, and the Estates set to behold the Tilt: The first that entered the Lists, was a Persian Duke, named Osimus, gallantly mounted and a man of goodly proportion: After whom, followed the rest of the Persian Knights, who were all Challengers against all strangers that came to make trial of their Valour. Next came the adverse part, the foremost of which was Persicles, who appeared in Richness, according to the dignity of his place, being King of so mighty a Country as Assyria: whose sight led the beholders in admiration of his evident perfection. After whom followed Nonlus Prince of Anatolia, and after him a number of most gallant Knights, so richly adorned, as would have persuaded a cowardly miscreant to have become valiant: whose particular description I omit.  
As Persicles was chief of the adverse part, and Duke Osimus of the Persians, so they two began the encounter, breaking of staffs with exceeding valour: but Osimus intending to win the chiefest honour, for that he was esteemed the best Knight in Persia, had provided staffs of tough Wood, which would not start with an easy encounter: one of which he took, and ran the fourth time at Persicles, who unprovided of such an unexpected assault was overturned: and his Steed tumbling, fell upon him, that with the fall he for a time remained without sense. The King of Persia and the rest, being exceedingly afraid that he was slain, came running off the Scaffolds to take him up, carrying him forth of the Lists, to be unarmed: Amongst the rest, his sister Piera used her uttermost diligence to recover him with whom likewise, were a number of gallant Ladies to assist her: but chiefly the Queen of Persia, and her youngest Daughter Constantia, as more regarding him, by reason he was Brother to Piera, and most of all lamented his mishap.  
Persicles finding himself somewhat recovered, at the first opening his eyes, fixed them on Constantia, which by reason he was not fully revived, stood still fixed upon the first object, as it were with affectionate earnestness, which caused an exceeding blush to rise in her cheeks.  
But now seeing such a number about him, he was amazed and half ashamed of his foil, said: I beseech you leave me to myself; and see the rest of the Tournaments, for I have no harm. With that he started upon his feet, and fetching a deep sigh departed. They were all exceeding glad of his safety: and so leaving him to be attended by his own knights, they departed to the Scaffolds, and again took their places to behold the rest of the Tournament.  
Persicles was exceedingly vexed, that he had received such a disgrace, and in the presence of such and honourable assembly: most of all for that he understood Osimus intent: presently buckled on one of his Knight's Armoury, and mounting himself, entered the Lists again, by which time, the Tilt was almost ended, and the Persian Knights bore away the prize; but Persicles then unknown, stood ready at the Races end, for the next encounter: against whom a Persian Knight ran, but so far to his disgrace, that he tumbled with his heels upwards. With that every one began to wonder what he should be, and the people gave an exceeding shout: with that the other Persian met with him, whose fortune was much like the former. For his Steed trumbling with the strength of the Encounter, they both fell down. A Knight of Persia who that day had won great honour by his valour, seeing that, would needs be the next to meet him, thinking to revenge his Countryman's disgrace: but at the first race he could not perform it, for they passed by without any other odds, but breaking their staff's most gallantly. And running again, the Persians Fortune was so bad, that he was overthrown. By this time the day was ended, and the judges ready to depart: but Osimus entreated that he might break one staff with the stranger, which they granted. Whom Persicles well knew, resolutely determined to give or take the foil, both of them meeting with such terror, that the Earth seemed to shake, and Osimus (notwithstanding all his strength) was by Persicles overthrown to salve his honour, and requite his discourtesy. With that the people gave such shouts, as made all the Palace ring with the sound. And Persicles discovered himself, which made every one rejoice, and wonder at his valour.  
Persicles being unarmed, accompanied the King of Persia, Anatolia, and the rest, having that day won such honour as made him more highly esteemed: and coming to salute his sister Piera he suddenly espied Constan●ia: thinking he had before seen that sweet countenance, but he could not remember where, which cast him into such a deep study, that he almost forgot himself. After he had saluted the rest he came to Constantia, to whom he said. Fair Lady either I have beheld your Beauty, and that sweet countenance in some other Country, or in some vision, for my mind persuadeth me, I should perfectly know you: for I am sure this is not the first time I have seen you, which maketh me thus bold to demand of whence you are, if it be not offensive unto you. Sir (replied Constantia) it may be, I am but an imperfect shadow of her you so perfectly remember; for until this day I never saw you, which maketh me suppose, you do but take an occasion of course to commend me, that deserve no such matter, neither shall you offend me: nor I deny to show my Birth, being Daughter to the King of Persia, but for many years brought up in Arabia. Pardon my boldness (quoth Persicles) for I would not offend you, neither do I think you a shadow, but a perfect substance, and not to resemble any but yourself: for there can be no Beauty that excelleth yours, which mine eyes before this time have beheld: or else Nature itself hath imprinted in my heart an essential distinct of devotion thereto, which persuadeth me to this boldness: therefore I humbly desire you not to misconceive me, nor esteem me of so rude a disposition, as to speak otherwise then my heart thinketh: and to account of me as one that earnestly desireth to be better acquainted with you, and will endeavour to make you amends for any offence giv●n, offering myself and all that is mine, to be at your disposition: which said, he left off further speech, for he saw others attend to hear what he said.  
At night Constantia being in her private Chamber, called to remembrance Persicles speeches, which made her marvel why he should say, he had before that seen her, which she knew could not be: but remembering how earnestly he beheld her that day, when he was scarce revived from his trance, she thought that sight might breed such a persuasion in him, which was so indeed: withal, she called to mind, his comeliness, valour, estate, and courtesy, which she had before noted: all which remembrances made her so much forget all other thoughts that a great part of the night was unawares overpast: and after she had revived her senses, she felt such an alteration, as all that night she could not rest, delighting in nothing so much as to remember him. The like did Persicles, for her Beauty and other outward graces, had pierced so near his heart, that he was enthralled to her Love, and resolved to win it.  
Early the next morning he got up, seeking all occasions to speak to her again, but he was disappointed all the forenoon. For she by reason of her little rest in the night, kept her Chamber, and after ●inner, accompanied the Queen her mother, and the other Ladies whereby he was that day disappointed. The next morning likewise he arose, studying which way to come to her speech, for his affection was so great, as no thought contented him but her remembrance; but before he could bring to pass what he most desired, there arrived Messengers from Assyria, certifying him that his Father was deceased, and that their ancient enemy the king of Armenia had entered his Land, and destroyed many of his Subjects, desiring him in all haste to return; For in his absence the Assyrians seemed like men without courage.  
Persicles hearing the unexpected news, was exceedingly astonished, both with desire to save his Country, and also to prosecute his Love: the one persuading him to stay, the other to hasten his departure: The one being as dear to him as his life, the other as dear, as both Life, Country, and all: for without obtaining of that, he thought he could not live, being so much perplexed, that he could not resolve what to do: At last the special regard of his Country overcame his heart, and revived him with a manly courage to revenge, that he Commanded all things to be prepared for his sudden departure, and going to his Chamber, he got Pen and Ink, and wrote as followeth:  
TO THE MOST FAIREST Constantia.  
MOst beloved Constantia,  
though my Country's preservation, occasioneth my sudden departure, yet my Love to your perfections, importuneth me to solicit your gentle ears with these rude Lines, I cannot with colourable Phrases shadow a perfect meaning, nor yet with painted Eloquence, decipher my true love: but in the truest sort, manifest my constant affection to your virtues, which unless you grace with some favour, will be my endless torments I have long desired to make the same manifest unto you, but I was still disappointed, and my unexpected departure hath now shut me from your presence, whereby I shall live in continual care. Notwithstanding, I humbly beseech you in my unwilling absence, to esteem me your faithful and true devoted Servant, and one that hath vowed himself for ever to be yours: whose welfare consisteth in your courtesy, the hope whereof shall preserve my life until my return, which my constant love will cause me to hasten, desiring you, though I be absent, not to forget me, nor for my little deserts to reject me, but let me be so much bound to your virtues, as to conceive well of me; and to your courtesy, as to pity me: so shall my joys be lengthened, my unhappy life is preserved, and my good will and constant loyalty highly rewarded. So with sorrow, I take my leave.  
Yours inseparably, PERSICLES.  
Having wrote this Letter, he found out his sister Piera, to whom he said as followeth. Dear sister, the sorrows that cause my departure, come so suddenly, as that I cannot stand long to confer with you; therefore for that I build upon assurance of our love, secrecy, and assistance, I will unfold to you the secrets of my heart, and that which none but yourself should know. So it is that Constantiaes' beauty hath bewitched mine eyes, and I remain so much enthralled thereto, that unless she pity me, I am but cast away. I desire your assistance herein, whereby you may preserve my life. I have wrote this Letter unto her, which I desire you to deliver: and withal to use such speeches on my behalf, as shall seem best to your wisdom: for I assure you, unless at my return, which shall be shortly, I find her favourable, my sorrows will shorten my days. Then good sister show your love to me in this, and in my absence give her knowledge of my loyalty, which shall make me everlastingly thankful unto you. Piera promised her utmost assistance, and so with many fears of her side, they parted.  
The news of his departure was soon spread through the whole Court, and likewise came to Constantias hearing, who left her chamber, and got into her mother's company, where she thought to have a sight of him, which some small sparks of Love that were kindled in her tender breast, procured her unto. After all farewells were passed, he espied her in the company of other Ladies, to whom he came, and only amongst the rest of them all, took his leave of her with a sweet kiss, breathing forth a bitter sigh at the parting, which every one noted: Some taking the same in disdain, and others marveling that he regarded her above them all. Which made the blood rise in Constantiaes' cheeks, and the waterswell in her eyes.   

CHAP. II. How Helyon Prince of Arabia, crossed the love between Persicles and Constantia. Of a battle fought between Persicles, and the King of Armenia. And how disguising himself, he traveled into Persia, and how he discovered himself to Constantia.  
HIs departure caused a sadness throughout the Court, for indeed he was the beauty thereof, so excellent was his person, and so commendable his qualities. Piera betaking herself to her Chamber, lamented his absence with private tears, until Deloratus found her out, and caused her with his comfortable speeches, to give over that grief. The King of Anatolia likewise with most of the Nobles and Knights that came to the Solemnisation of the Wedding were departed, except Prince Helyon, son to the King of Arabia. The occasion of, whose stay, was to crave Constantia in marriage, assuring himself of her Love, by reason of the familiarity that was betwixt them in her father's Court: which indeed by her former kindness he might be in some assurance off, though not by any promise she had made him: which motion he made to the King of Persia, who esteeming so honourably of him regarding his Birth, and most of all, desiring to be allied to the Arabian King, gave his consent, which was fully concluded and agreed upon, before it came to Constantiaes' knowledge.  
Prince Helyon having his assurance, with a merry heart sought out Constantia, intending to reveal the same to her: and according to his wont kind of Familiarity, began to greet her: In whom he found such an alteration, that he wondered thereat, saying: My dear Constantia, this unexpected unkindness in you, whom I esteem as my most chosen Friend, maketh me admire, whereas I had thought to have enjoyed your love without interruption. Upon confidence of your courtesy, I have moved your Father's consent to our Marriage, who hath yielded thereto: then I beseech you darken not both your and my joys, with these Misty clouds of care, which will fill my heart with sorrow: but rather increase your kindness, to both mine and your comfort. Constantia's countenance bewrayed the angry motions of her heart, incensed by his speeches, that we had much ado to withhold her eyes from shedding tears: yet with a colour as red as Scarlet, she gave him this answer. Prince Helyon, if that be true which you tell me, I cannot choose but wonder at your folly, that would without assurance of my Love, make such a motion: think you my affections are to be limited according to your disposition? For my part, I disclaim such interest, and renounce such Affection: for I never intended any such matter, nor ever did you demand the same. Then my Lord be you satisfied for this, for I never yet did, nor will give my consent.  
Helyon hearing her answer, was nipped on the head, being struck with such grief, that he could not tell what to say. But at last replied. Constantia, I confess I have done you wrong, in adventuring so far without your consent, but yet for that I have not thereby either dishonoured your Name, or otherwise injured you, I humbly crave pardon, desiring you to ratify that which I have by your former courtesies assured myself of: and let not my overboldnesse alienate any part of your good will. For you know my affections have remained inviolable constant many years: and I have attended your liking with such fervency, as you may be resolutely assured of my truth. Then I beseech you be not now displeased with me, but according to your wont kindness, accept me into your favour.  
My Lord (replied she) I cannot deny but that your good will hath exceeded my deserts, for which I thank you: and withal, that I have always esteemed you, which likewise I would have done still: But now that opinion is altered, neither can I be induced to conceive well of him that would do me such manifest injury as you have done. Therefore I pray be contented with that favour you have had, for my affections are otherwise employed, and my heart utterly disagreeing to the motion you have made. With that she espied Piera in the Garden coming towards her, to whom she went down, saluting her most kindly. Piera thought now to have delivered her Persicles Letter, but by reason that there were divers in their company, she could not then perform it. After a while they left each other, Piera returning to her Chamber, and Constantia into a secret place of the Garden where she uttered these meditations. What contrarious disquiets are these possess the centre of my heart? what inconveniences am I like to run into? and how shall I avoid blame for the one, and reap content by the other? How unkindly hath Prince Helyon used me, to make this motion to my Father, whose disposition must not be crossed, without hazard of much disquiet? My kindness to him, hath caused his overfond conceit of himself, and brought me into much trouble: I could have loved him before I came to the sight of Persicles, whose gifts are so far exceeding his, that whereas my heart loved him, the thought of that Love is now most grievous. Wherein I may do myself great wrong: for in hope of his affection, I refuse Helyons love, which may deprive me of both, purchase my Father's heavy displeasure, and my own perpetual discontent, Revolving a Chaos of these, and such like confused cogitations, which overcame her senses with their ambiguity, in a heavy and discontented vain she went to her Chamber, thinking there to consider of every particular at the full: where we found Piera all alone, staying her coming in, who soon espied that Constantia had wept, whereupon she took occasion to say as followeth. My beloved Sister, I am sorry to see you in this heavy and sad vain, always finding you either sad or weeping, which maketh me wonder; and desirous to know the cause, as one willing in any sort to counsel you, and comfort you with my uttermost assistance, I have of purpose entered your Chamber, to have some conference with you in private, being a Messenger sent to you by my Brother Persicles, who I know loveth you dear: who by me humbly commendeth himself unto you, being sorry that his sudden departure was such, that he could not before his going, do you that Service you do deserve, and he desired. Withal, he desired me to deliver you this Letter which he left behind, to testify the depth of his affection: which at my request vouchsafe to read, and withal credit: for I know his honourable heart endureth much care by his absence. Constantia without making reply received the letter, and read the same: which when she had done, she said: Dear Sister, I thank you for taking this pains to come to me, and not rather to have sent for me, that rest at your command▪ And also I thank that worthy King Persicles, that he will vouchsafe me such undeserved favour, as to esteem well of my unworthiness, to whom I am bound in all honourable respect, but how unfit I am to entertain love, yourself would judge, if you knew my estate, which upon assurance of your secrecy I will unfold. Prince Helion of Arabia, vainly presuming he was assured of my favour, hath asked my Father's consent, to a marriage betwixt him and me, which he hath granted unto: which the heavens can testify is utterly disagreeing to my heart, and altogether without my consent, which he shall never attain, what danger soever I incur thereby. Which if Persicles should understand, would soon alter his mind: Therefore it is best for his quiet not to place his affections on me so unworthy, but let me alone to endure the affliction that is likely to ensue.  
I know (qd Piera) my Brother's Love is so constant, that nothing can alter the same which he related to me at large: which maketh me testify the assurance thereof. Which would you but accept of, or give me some comfortable hope in his absence, I should think myself bound to you for ever, and to have done him an exceeding pleasure: for nothing but the happy tidings of your favour, can comfort him. The King of Persia will not compel you to marry Helion, when he understandeth that you are otherwise bend, for that were cruelty. And I think Helion himself beareth not so dishonourable a mind, as to seek your Love by constraint▪ for that were inhumanity. But would you yield to like of my Brother's love that is every way as good as the Prince of Arabia, the knowledge thereof would soon make him return to ask your father's consent, which may peradenture stand as well affected to him as to Prince Helyon. Ay me go. Constantia: sister I need not doubt to reveal my greatest secrets to you that I know for Persicles sake will conceal them, I confess without further circumstances, that I love that worthy King Persicles, which is the cause of these disquiets: neither did my fancy ever yield the least conceit of liking Helyons love, which I took to be rather grounded upon common familiarity, than pretence of Marriage. Therefore now that you are assured of that which you request, I beseech you not to conceive amiss of my rash confession, nor esteem my love light, because of so short continuance, for it shall be immoveable: but rather comfort my poor disquieted heart, with your counsel how to avoid these inconveniences. And if that worthy King be so affected towards me, as your speeches and his Letter here affirmeth, I would wish his return might be speedy: otherwise my sorrows will be endless. For I know my Father's nature to be such, that whatsoever he will have, must be performed, though equity would persuade the contrary.  
Grieve not so much (quoth Piera,) with premeditated conceit of fear, which peradventure shall never come to pass: I will presently send messengers unto my Brother, which shall carry such news as will comfort his heart, and cause speedy return: in the mean time I will make Deloratus acquainted with Helyons practise, not Persicles Love, who shall persuade the King all that may be, not to consent to marry you against your mind. Be then of good comfort, and in assurance of Persicles Loyalty, let no fear disquiet your senses, or impair your health: For things now at the worst may have a good end. These speeches ended, they parted.  
All this while Prince Helion was meditating how to hasten the Marriage, but most of all to find the cause of Constantias discontent: which he thought was aggravated against him, by some good conceit we had lately entertained of some other than himself, which made him prosecute the same with more fervency: and dealt so effectually with the King, that he swore Constantia should be ruled by him. And thereupon, the next day sent for her, to whom he said:  
Daughter, I think it is not unknown to you that I have promised you in Marriage to Prince Helyon; one that is every way worthy to match with you, both for Nobleness of Birth, virtuous qualities, and comeliness of person. Withal, I am given to understand, that you like not our choice, nor esteem our command: which if you neglect▪ you shall not only displease me, but also lose my favour for ever. For as you are mine, I purpose to dispose of you, but if you refuse my counsel, refuse me too; for I will not regard a disobedient child. The manifold reasons I could allege, that persuade me to the confirmation of this Contract, are of such weight, as I might seem careless of your welfare, and yourself envious of your own good, to deny them: therefore let me know your answer.  
Constantia well knew that if she denied▪ he would be offended; and his froward nature to be so much disposed to wrath, that before she could speak she shook with fear: yet resolution so hazard the worst, humbling herself upon her knee, she made this answer. My reverend duty to you (most loving Father) persuadeth my consent to fulfil your command, though my Love bindeth me to the contrary: that I stand perplexed 'twixt two extremes: the one, fearing to offend you, the other to procure my everlasting discontent: for in refusing to do according to your will, I shall incur your indignation, and in performing the same, my everlasting sorrow. For as yet my heart could never yield to love that worthy Prince, who far too worthy to be matched with me. Most humbly beseeching you to consider, that enforced Love never bringeth content, but disquiet, which with Helyon, will be my portion: Therefore I beseech you revoke your determination.  
Is it even so (quoth he) shall my command be countervaild by your péevish conceit? Is this the regard you give to my good will? Are you wiser than I? Or are you willing to displease me? Shall my will stand at your direction? Is this the duty you owe to your Father, or fear you no more to offend me? Have I so carefully brought you up, and tenderly regarded you for this? Henceforth never come in my sight, for I will not esteem thee as a Child, but as a bastard: and withal I vow, that if thou dost not yield to marry him, use him kindly, and apply thy devotions to his liking, I will use thee in such sort, that all Persia shall lament thy case. Having given her this bitter reproof, he departed: leaving her weeping the fountains of her precious eyes dry, wring her hands, and like one in a dead trance, overcome with grief, cast upon the Earth. The first that entered the room was Helyon, who seeing her in that agony, took her by the hand to have raised her from the earth, but she refusing his help, uttered these speeches. Until this time I always esteemed honourably of you, but now my good opinion is altered, for that you only seek my torment: my Father hath given me charge to Marry with you, which I must against my heart fulfil: but be assured never to possess my Love, for that I have bequeathed another: only my outward parts may be yours, but my inward, affections shall continually esteem you as the only occasioner of my endless miseries. With that she rose up from the ground, giving him neither better words, nor other kind behaviour, but left him standing still as one astonished.  
Piera made Constantia's estate known to Deloratus, who so far as he durst, persuaded her Father not to constrain her to marry the Prince: but such wilfulness possessed him, that the more they entreated him the more contrarious he was, and therefore appointed the day for the Marriage to be within two months. And in the mean time doubting the King of Arabiaes' consent, he sent his Ambassadors to that effect.  
Piera hearing this, presently sent messengers into Assyria to certify Persicles of all that had happened: and withal, wrote a Letter, which contained the whole sum of Constantia's consent to his Love.. Who with all diligence hasted until they arrived there, being presently conducted into his presence: After he had most kindly embraced them, he demanded how Piera did, and what message they brought from her: whereupon they delivered him the Letters they had brought: which when he had read, commanding his Knights to give the Messengers honourable entertainment, he departed to his Tent, one way so much comforted and another way so much troubled, that he sat him down in a deep study, not yet knowing what to resolve upon.  
When he had along space meditated with what contrarieties his Fortunes were crossed, the danger his Country was in, how likely he was to lose Constantia, and how difficult to attempt her possession, and many other, at last he thought his Life should be nothing without her Love: and therefore he fully resolved to hazard the same to attain it: but so impossible it seemed which way to accomplish the same: For first the Armenians war hazarded his Kingdom, whom he could not suddenly expel: Next to attempt to win her by force, that could not be, for the Persian was too mighty: and lastly, delay might breed a greater mischief than all the rest: that calling unto him two of his chiefest Nobles, the one named Parenus, a wise Counsellor, the other Thrureus a Noble Warrior, he uttered his mind to them, saying: I have sent for you, as the men that I most respect and trust: being determined to commit to your charge the government of my Kingdom, for that weighty business, and such as concerns my everlasting welfare, must for a season withdraw me: and for that I am fully assured of your Loyalty, I will use no exhortations, to persuade you thereto, but to order the same in this sort. Thrureus resembling me much, both in proportion and countenance, shall in my absence possess my room, whom the people will assuredly take to be myself, and so govern them with more ease. And you Parenus, by your wisdom order all things according thereto: Thus you know my mind: which I do not doubt, but you will accomplish in every respect according to my desire. They first entreated him, not to depart, but when they saw nothing could prevail, they swore that they would faithfully execute what he had given them in charge. He likewise telling them that he would depart within three days, which he deferred so long, by reason that the second day the Armies of the Assyrians and Armenians should meet. Having ended his conference with them he returned to the Messengers that came from Persia, giving Letters to Piera, which gave her knowledge that he would be there within few days.  
The prefixed day for the Battle was now come and both the Armies met, betwixt whom began so hot and deadly a Fight, that many thousands on both parts lost their lives, and the Armenians greedy of their Enemy's overthrow, followed them so eagerly, that they began to sound a retreat. Persicles seeing that, left the place of his Government, and with his Lance ready couched, met an Armenian Duke so full, that he pierced the same through his body, then drawing his sword, with the same he slew the next, & after him wounded others: that within a while his valour made such a Massacre amongst them, that they avoided the place of his Fight, and thought themselves best that were furthest of him. Thus valorously did he pursue them, until he was unawares in the midst of their Army: which advantage the King of Armenia espied, thinking Persicles life within his power, ran at him with a lance pointed with a steel, but it missed him: and Persicles seeing him, met him so full with the pommel of his sword against his breast, that had not his Steed yielded, he had broken his back; with that the Armenians assailed him round about, with such unequal odds, being a multitude to one, that sometimes they were thrust so near upon him by the throng, that they swayed him up and down: Those that came next him died by his sword, their dead trunks falling down betwixt his Stéeds legs, which made him spring about with such fury, that he soon made them give way. In the mean time, while the most part of the Battle were bend to destroy him, the Assyrians had made such a slaughter amongst the out-wings of the Army, that most of them were slain, and the rest fled. Thureus fearing Persicles harm, for that he missed him with his followers, soon found him out, and by that means rescued him from amongst the multitude: who by this time had unhorsed him, and he was constrained to fight on foot, being scarce able to withhold himself from stumbling upon the dead carcases of those himself had slain. Thureus soon got him remounted, and then both of them pursued their enemies so fiercely, that they began to fly; and had not the day been ended, they had been all destroyed: which caused Persicles to sound a retreat, and befake him to his Tent, having that day done such deeds of Arms, as made both his own subjects and the Armenians admire him.  
Early the next morning, word was brought him, his Enemies were all fled, and not any of them to be found in the Camp, having left all their Riches behind them, being glad they had escaped alive which rejoiced Persicles to hear, for that they should be no hindrance to his journey, commanding his Soldiers to take the spoil and to bury the dead: and for that he had received never a mortal wound, he determined the next day to depart, which he acquainted Parenus and Thureus withal, requesting them (if it were possible) not to discover his absence until his return.  
Having ordered every thing according to his mind, the next morning he departed, attiring himself like a Palmer; with his staff in his hand, which disguise shadowed him from knowledge, that he passed his own Court Gates, undiscryed: which assured him, that if his own subjects and servants knew him not, much less would strangers, that he passed without fear of being discovered. In this sort did he travel, thinking it no penance to take pains to find out his Love, until he arrived in Persia, yet not knowing which way to accomplish his intent, or to come to speech either of Piera or Constantia, for that he was a Stranger, being denied to enter the Court gates, where he stayed attending his good Fortune, some three days: but as far from hope then, as at his first coming: that he was so much tormented in his thoughts, that he could not tell what to do. The next day he heard that the King should go forth on Hunting, which made him presently suppose (for that the Park was so near the Court) the Ladies likewise would see the pastime, hoping by some odd means or other, to give one of them knowledge of his arrival, that he wrote a Letter, the contents whereof were these.  
To PIERA, or CONSTANTIA.  
THese I write to either of you: My Fortune's being doubtful to whether I should deliver this. The Palmer that delivered this Letter is Persicles, that desireth to speak with one of you, for he saith, you both are as dear to him as his own Soul. Attending an happy hour, I end.  
Yours PERSICLES.  
The next day, according to his hopes, the King and Queen Dela and Piera, Helyon and Constantia, and many other came forth whom Persicles soon espied: and well noting Constantiaes' countenance, perceived the same so darkened, as if she had been fully possessed with discontent. Who coming near him (for he stood so as they must pass by him) casting her eyes upon him beheld him so earnestly, that she almost forgot herself, feeling her heart to throb with unwonted motion, that she let fall her rich Scarf, most curiously embroidered, which occasion Persicles soon espied, as awaiting such an opportunity, took up the Scarf, and with great reverence gave it her, conveying the Letter therein so closely, that she soon espied the same: wherewith her heart began to pant, and viewing the superscription, found it directed to her, or Piera: that closely she put the same in her bosom, lest Helyon or any else should aspie it, until she could And opportunity to read it. By this time, the game was roused, and all but she alone followed the pastime with earnestness: which ●●e beholding, withdrew herself with one of her Ladies, and read the Letter through which affected her heart with such joy and fear, that sometimes her heart leapt with the one, and her Eyes stood ready to overflow with tears with the other. Presently following the company until she overtook Piera, to whom she said: Sister, did you not behold the Palmer that stood in the way, as we came by the Palace wall? Yes (quoth she) and do you not know hi●, said Constantia? It is your Brother Persicles.  
With that Piera smiled, saying: How can that be: or what maketh you think so? With that she pulled out the Letter, and bad h●r read it: W●ich when she had done, she said: Constantia, he is worthy to be kindly used, having travailed so far on foot to see us. Yea (quoth Constantia) how may we come to speak with him? Or how may we give him that Welcome his Worthiness deserveth? That for my unworthy sake, hath undertaken to hazard his Royal person in travel? Let me alone (quoth Piera) and the better to avoid suspicion, use Hel●on some what more kindly than heretofore you have done, that his mind may be vo●d of jealousy: for I perceive when you come in any place or company, he hath a diligent and vigilant eye over you.  
And calling unto her a Damsel named Dela, one that was privy to all her secret counsels, to whom she said: Go thy way and find out the Palmer that thousawest as we came, for it is Persicles, conduct him into my Chamber, where let him stay until my return: and if any ask thee what he is, tell them he is of Assyria, and bringeth me news from the Knight my Brother. Dela hasted, and soon found him out, reverently saluting him, and calling him by his name: which made him marvel that she knew him, until she delivered her Message, which he was ready to fulfil, as the thing he above all things desired. And having brought him into the Court, which she did without contradiction, she returned to certify her Mistress thereof. Whom she met with Constantia, and some few before the rest, returning to the Court, being both desirous to see Persicles. Who now entering the Palace, were soon espied of him, which affected his heart with such content, as it seemed to revive his senses.  
Constantia likewise was possessed with such contrarious passions, sometimes of Fear, joy, bashfulness, desire, and modest love, that her heart seemed to dissolve: and all the Arteries of her body wrought with internal and strange motions. By this time they were ascended the stairs, and Persicles ready to meet them, who first saluted Piera, as reserving the best for the last: which he performed so superficially, in respect of the behaviour he used to Constantia, whose modesty made her blush: whilst he bereavest of a sweet kiss: who with as mild a countenance as if Modesty herself had been there, bad him Welcome.  
Most divine Lady (quoth he) I cannot express my thankfulness ●y outward means, for that my heart both wisheth and intendeth more good to you then my tongue can utter: being so far bound unto you in (respect of my slender and small deserts) for your esteeming well of me, that I shall never be able to discharge the debt. And though you have little cause by reason of the small proof you have of my Fidelity, to yield me Love, yet if my faithful How may satisfy you, and my plighted promise of perpetual constancy assure you you shall find me both constant in Love to you, Faithful, to deal Honourably with you, and Loyal, not to do any thing that shall be disagreeable to your Will.  
My Lord (said Constantia) in full assurance of your good meaning my heart willingly affecting you more than any, without farther delay, I yield myself to your disposition: desiring you not to misconceive me. And though I am too unworthy such accounts as you make of me, my possession being linked to so many Inconveniences, yet since your desire is to have it so, I am ready wholly to be ruled and governed according to your directions.  
Piera then said, Let further conference for this time cease, because I hear of the King return: and for this Night I will provide for my Brother's security, with whom I will confer about this business, until you may conveniently meet again. This said, Persicles●ooke ●ooke his leave of Constantia, with many ceremonious Farewells, ●s each part interchanging their hearts, such perfect Love was established betwixt them. He to a secret Chamber to meditate. Piera, to accompany her husband, and Constantia, with an outwardly merry, ●hough inwardly heavy heart, to Welcome Helyon.   

CHAP. III. How Constantia disguised herself, and departed the Emperor's Court with Persicles.  
WIthin this place stayed Persicles so long without means how to accomplish his desire, which was to convey away Constantia, that the prefixed day for the performance of the Marriage approached, which brave them to their uttermost shifts, knowing that now or never it was to be done.  
Constantia coming to Pieraes' Chamber, with a heavy heart and watery eyes, demanded whether they had yet determined how she should escape? But hearing them make no answer, said thus: (My Lord) since the fear you have I should be discovered, and so dishonoured, maketh you unwilling to have me hazard myself, the time of my pretended Wedding now drawing nigh, which I most abhor, because I love none but yourself: Provide but for your own departure out of the Court, without being discovered, and stay for me in the Evening under the Myrtle tree, by the Palace wall, and thither I will assuredly come to you: but by what means, as yet I know not.  
Persicles was glad to hear her speeches, but he was much troubled in mind that his misfortune was such, that he could not carry her thence, without she herself should hazard her escape alone, but seeing her forwardness, which was an infallible token of her Constancy, with many thanks and Farewells, until their happy meeting again they parted: with such careful hearts, and outward signs of sorrow, as would have made the hardest heart of any remorseless beholder relent.  
Persicles soon departed, and without disturbance: for in that habit he was without control, and soon got to the Myrtle-trée, whereunder been sat him down, uttering many hearty Invocations for his Love's fortunate escape: thinking that she alone should endure this hazard, but whatsoever extremity should follow, should be borne by him. Constantia being in her Chamber with Dela, many thoughts possessed her fancies, and sundry devices were soon invented, and as soon out of content, that many she bethought her of, but none of them seemed currant. At last, leaning out of her Window, she espied a Country damsel enter the outer Court of the Palace, with a Basket on her arms, wherein were Grapes, which she came of purpose to present unto Constantia, for their fairness: being a gift worthy acceptation. The Porter knowing her mind, sent her to the Princess Chamber with a Gentleman. Constantia seeing that she came to her, caused her to come in, receiving her Present most graciously: the Gentleman being departed, Dela by Constantiaes' appointment, led the Maiden into a secret chamber, telling her, that it was her Mistress pleasure, so much to grace her, that she should attend on her, and not return to her Father's house: the damsel being glad of that preferment, gave her many thanks. Dela then caused her to put off her own Apparel, and put on other that was Constantiaes'. Which done, she left her and carried her homely weeds to Constantia, which she presently put on: disrobing herself of her rich ornaments, casting aside all other care, but only to attain her Love.. And the Evening being now come, the happy time of her everlasting weal or woe, she took the damsels Basket on her arm, and first with many farewells to Dela, commendations to Piera, and heavy sighs to leave her Parents, not knowing what misfortunes might befall her: with the water standing in her eyes, which to her uttermost power she refrained, she went down the stairs, and from thence into the Court, behaving herself so decently, that none that met her had any thought, but that she had been a perfect Damsel: and so she passed until she came to the Porter, who knowing of her coming in, denied not to let her out. Constantia having passed thus far without escape, thought not to be long in going to the appointed place, but fear and hope hastening her steps, she sometimes ran, and sometimes went: and then again looking behind her, as if some had pursued her, ran until she gate a sight of the tree, where under like wise she espied her Love, who before that beheld her, but in that habit knew her not. To whom she approached so ●igh, that he noting her well, knew her, and with that embraced her in his arms, saying: My dearest Love, a thousand times welcome, and more desired of me, than all the riches of the World: for ever shall this day be blest, and the hou●e of this our happy meeting, accounted Fortunate: Let all that wear this Habit be happy, and enjoy their most desired content: and let this tree wheresoever growing, be esteemed above many others: For that it was the appointed place of our meetings. Let the Evening be the most pleasant time of the day for Lover's meetings: and let all those be Fortunate in their meetings, whose hearts harbour constant Love.. My dear (quoth he) I cannot express the joy my heart conceiveth at your presence, being sorry that you are thus driven to hazard your person for my sake: being like wise as sorry that I have no pl●ce of security to carry you unto, for in this place we must not stay long, therefore let us depart the nearest way towards Assyria, & Fortune that hath showed herself so gentle, may favour us with some more happy success.  
My Lord (qd Constantia) now that I have attained your presence, I have found the Harbour I expected, where my heart shall rest, what hereafter you shall intend, I will be as well contented with as yourself: therefore direct your steps which way soever you will, I will bear you company. Persicles heart was glad to hear her so cheerful, that folding his Arm in hers, the Night being new approached, they walked along: she by the way discoursing the manner of her escape: To relate the conference between them, were tedious: but the most part of the night, they continued travelling so fast, as Constantiaes' feeble legs could carry her: who though not accustomed to such labour, yet endured the same so cheerfully, as it had been a wonder to behold: but at last arriving into a solitary place, where seldom any frequented but Shepheardsr The Night being far spent, and Constantia weary, they seated themselves down upon a bank, and their minds being now somewhat eased of cares, their bodies wearied with travail, and the place void of disturbance: After some delightful conference, Constantia slept, and within a while Persicles did the like: not awaking until the Sun's bright beams glimmering upon them, awakened them. Persicles heart now began to be troubled, where to get Food for Constantia, which he was out of hope to attain in those solitary walks, and rising up to view the place well, and which way next to travel, he espied a Shepherd's Cottage hard by, to which he with Constantia went, knocking at the door, when presently the Shepherd's Wife came forth, who espying such unlooked for Guests, started back, saying; What would you have?  
Mother (said Persicles) my Wife and I (for so he thought best to name her, to avoid suspect) travailing towards Assyria, by misfortune yesternight lost our way, and have wandered up and down all this night, that we are both weary, especially my Wife, that hath not been used to such unrest: our desire is to rest ourselves, and get us food (if it may be) in this place: Which kindness, if you will afford us, we will both pay for our charge we put you too, and withal rest thankful.  
The Shepherdess noting them well, thought them other then their habit declared: with whom his kind words and their countenances so much prevailed, that she desired them to come in, telling them, that her house rested wholly at their disposition. So they both entered, and willingly sat them down to rest themselves: but Persicles ask the old woman what meat she had, she told him she had none at all: but if it pleased him, she would be ready to fetch any thing he would send for, at a Village hard by.  
Whereupon the old Woman went forth to buy meat, leaving them in the house alone: In whose absence Persicles desired Constantia not to be offended with him for saying she was his Wife; For (quoth he) should I name you my sister, or otherwise, it might breed in them some suspicion. Withal, they hearing of your escape, which may by some means or other come to their knowledge, will the sooner suspect you: but under that name, shall you be void of the least knowledge.  
Constantia was contented to be ruled by him in any thing, whose heart would now have conceited the height of content, had not fear to be disclosed darkened the same. In which place we will leave them, to speak of Helyon.   

CHAP. FOUR Of a merry Jest that befell Helyon Prince of Arabia.  
COnstantia being gone down the stairs, Dela as soon left the Country Maiden, to tell Piera what was done, and to ask her counsel what to do: who hearing all, at last had he return to the Damozell, and carry her meat for her Supper, but so closely as none might see her go out and in: which Dela performed, and telling her where she should lie, so left her: altering her garments and Attires in such sort, that the Maiden seeing her, should not know her. The Maiden being alone, was soon tempted to taste of those dainty meats, for that she was very hungry, thinking herself most happy to be so exalted, daintily fed, and seeing her soft Bed, her belly being full, and being not used at home to sit up late, drawing the curtains close about her, went to Bed, where she was no sooner laid, but she fell fast asleep.  
Helyon all that Evening, marvelling he could not see Constantia, and withal, not seeing Piera, was satisfied, thinking they had been together. When Supper was ended, he determined to see her, and therefore went to Piera's Chamber, thinking to find her there, who told him, that she was not there this afternoon. Then hastening thence, he went to Constantiaes' Lodging, finding the Door shut, which being but latcht, he opened, and so softly as he could, shut the door again: with easy pace, and stealing steps, passing through the first room, unto the next, where he saw a light burning through the hangings, which he softly lifted aside, and looking into the chamber, saw no body stirring, but the curtains drawn, and Constantiaes' Apparel lying not far off, and drawing nigh the Bed perceiu●d that she was fast asleep: thus standing by the Bed as loath to awake her, and yet unwillingly to leave her, he silently uttered these meditations. Sweet Fortune hath appointed this happy hour, in favour of my true Love, that have with constancy long attended my Love, but never was graced with any title of her favour: which opportunity if I over slip, it may be I shall never attain the like 〈◊〉 I should attempt to wake her, could she be offended? If I should further ask her consent to possess of her Love: could she take it in ill part? No, she knoweth my Love is loyal, and therefore will not be offended: but this feareth me most, I never as yet had any favour at her hand: she for aught that I can see, regardeth me not; but in stead of my love, repayeth me with sorrow: yet in that I may be deceived: Peradventure she hath used me to make trial of me, and also hath done this, to try whether I would like a Coward for fear of displeasure, leave the sealing of so sweet a Fort: therefore be my fortune good or bad, I will hazard the worst.  
Then taking the Damsel by the hand, who slept so sound, that he had much ado to waken her, he said; Constantia, be not offended with me, it is your faithful friend Helyon, that speaketh to you: I having missed you, thus boldly presumed into your Chamber, which I found but slightly shut, and fearing that you had been sick, I am come to visit you, desiring you to grant me this favour, both to pardon my bold intrusion, and let me stay to be your Guardiant: Which said, very boldly he kissed the Damsel twice or thrice. The Maiden hearing his speeches, was so amazed, that she could not speak, revolving many thoughts in her doubtful brain, what he should be, and why the Princess had appointed her to that place: but being unacquainted with the fashions of the Court, she thought it was the custom there (as she had heard her Father report) for every one to have a Lover, she laid still and said nothing: Which animated Helyon to such confidence, as that fastening the Door extinguishing the light, and putting of his Apparel, he leapt into the Bed: and first ask pardon with many humble speeches, repeating with what constancy he had deserved her and how faithfully he intended for ever to love her, he folded her in his arms, using such behaviour, as soon tempted the Damsel to yield, whom he bereft of her Virginity, to both their contents: He on the one side thinking he had embraced the fair Constantia, and she supposing she had gotten a rich and kind Lover. When he had stayed with her so long as he could, for fear of being discovered: for that the day began to appear, he told her that now to his heart's grief, he was enforced to leave her, which she was unwilling he should do; that by her Embrace, kisses, and other kind behaviours, he stayed longer than he would have done, and took such full possession of her before he went, as she thought herself the happiest Maiden alive; and he himself the most fortunately blessed in the possession of so sweet a Love.. At last parting with many farewells, the Damsels eyes somewhat dazzled with the sport, laid her down again and ●lept sound, until she thought it time to arise.  
When the day was somewhat aged by the height of the Sun, Helyon with an exceeding merry countenance, taking a rich standing Cup of beaten Gold, full fraught ●●th the purest Wine, attiring himself in his richest Robes, went to Constantiaes' Chamber, to present her therewith: and entering therein, he found his Bedfellow attired in Constantiaes' Ornaments; with which ●●ght he was so amazed, as that he stood like one in a trance, thinking himself either blind, or that she was metamorphosed.  
The Damozell likewise espying him, was ashamed to see him stand gazing on her with such a wild countenance, that she blushed exceedingly. At last, Helion fearing some deceit, said: Where is Constantia, that you are attired with her Ornaments? The Damsel making a low courtesy, said: I know not where she is; her Maid had me put on this Apparel yesterday, appointing me to stay in this place until her return.  
Helyon then perceived that he was deceived, and the Damsel in stead of Constantia had been his Paramour that night, whom he desired to tell him whether Constantia had of purpose persuaded her to do that, and also if she knew where she was. For know (quoth he) that thou hast not bestowed thy Virginity on an unworthy person, but upon the Prince of Arabia.  
The Damsel humbling herself upon her knees, told him all that she knew: Whereby he then perceived that Constantia was fled, by reason that he could not find the damsels Apparel; that taking her by the hand, he said: Damsel, I perceive Constantia still rejecteth me; and therefore as thou in her stead, hast taken possession of my Love, that good will and Affection which formerly I have borne to her, will I bear to thee: and hereafter prefer thee to such dignity, as otherwise thou shouldest never attain unto & Withal, requesting thee to conceal my being with thee this night, from any; For if it should be known, it would redound to my shame, and thy punishment: but when question shall be made for Constantia, t●ll thou all that thou knowest of my coming hither, but nothing of me: and in sign of my goodwill, I drink to thee in this Cup of Wine, which I had thought Constantia should have tasted. This said, he left the Damsel, and so secretly as might be, he went to his own Lodging; so much grieved in mind, fretting with vexation, and desperate with anger, that he vowed to be revenged, were it by never so cruel means: In his heart now hating her, whom before he doted on. Which is a sign of an inconstant disposition; for true Love could by no means be altered.  
It was not long before Constantia was missed, and the News thereof came to the King her Father, who with the Queen, marvelled thereat, causing all diligent enquiry to be made; but no other news was heard of them, but that she was gone, and a strange Damsel left in her stead. Who being brought before the King, told them the cause of her coming, and how she was used after by a Gentlewoman that waited on Constantia. Whereupon the King caused all the Ladies and Gentle women in the Court to be brought before him, but amongst them all, she could not tell which was she; for Dela▪ had altered her Apparel in such sort, that the Damsel was as ignorant of knowing her, as of any of the rest.  
The King was so exceedingly enraged, that he was ready to tear the hair from his head, commanding that the Damsel should be punished: but at the earnest entreaties of the Queen, she was only in disgraceful sort turned out at the Court gates. The King for that time in an exceeding rage, betaking himself to his solitary Chamber, to study which was the best way to find out his Daughter. Helyon pitying the Damsel, being now more in love with her then ever he was with Constantia, called unto him one of his most trustiest Servants, willing him in secret sort to follow the Damsel, and to deliver her a Purse full fraught with Gold, telling her that Prince Helyon sent it her; and withal, to conduct her home to her Father's house, that he might know where to find her. Which done, he presently went to the King, desiring him speedily to send forth Messengers to find Constantia. Who thinking Helyon had requested him thereunto, with his former pretence of Love, caused twenty of his Knights privily to be brought before him, to whom he imparted his intent: which was, that (not making any privy thereunto) they should that Night depart several ways in search of Constantia.  
All things being complotted according to his mind, the Knights having taken their Oaths of Fidelity and Secrecy, and departed, the King rested: calming his disquiet with so merry a countenance, as none supposed, but that he had remitted all regard of Constantia: Which was so closely effected, that the Knights were dispersed every way in the Country, before there was any question made of Constantiaes' absence.  
Helyons Servant surnamed Aldrus, soon overtook the Damsel, delivering her the gift his Lord had sent, which she received with many thanks: telling her like wise, that he had sent him to attend her home. Which she was likewise glad of, fearing her Parent's displeasure for staying so long: who knew her not at the first sight but afterwards were satisfied by Aldrus, who learning her Name, which was Selia, left her.   

CHAP. V. The pleasures that passed between the two faithful Lovers, Percles' and Constantia, in the Shepherd's Cottage. How a Knight that was sent in their search, found them, and what thereon ensued.  
THe Day being far spent, the old Shepherd's Wife returned with Provision, which she had brought, dressing the same very cleanly, though after her Country fashion, whereon Persicles and Constantia fed heartily: spending the rest of the day in talk with the old Woman, until at Night the old Shepherd and his son returned, who wondered to see such Guests in his House, and such cheer at the fire, that was wont to sup with a Crab put into sour Wigge: and calling aside his Wife before he would enter, demanded, What they were? Husband (qd she) they came hither in the morning, desiring me to let them have but Houseroom: For that losing their way, they had wandered about all that night, and were sore weary. They are the kindest people that ever I saw: Good Husband bid them welcome. The good old man waxed so kind by his Wife's entreaties, that he came in, telling them they were most heartily welcome: and that both himself and all that he had were at their command.  
Persicles gave him many thanks, being much comforted with their kindness, which he found disagreeing with the humours of Rustic people. Supper time was come and ended, and then the old Woman called her Husband aside, ask him where they should lie? Marry (quoth he) in our own Bed. And we for this time will make other provision: and therefore, I pray make the same ready in the best sort you can.  
Which said, the old Woman went about the same, and the old Man coming to them, said: Because I know you not, I know not what Title to give unto you, but less than borne of Gentle blood I am sure you are not: I am sorry my wealth affordeth me no better entertainment to welcome you withal. But such as our homely Cottage yieldeth, shall be at your disposition. Desiring you to accept this our disable good will, in stead of better performance: my wife is making ready your Bed, which though homely, yet it is cleanly, we having no choice but only that, desire you to accept it as the best.  
I thank you good Friend (quoth Persicles) but we shall be unmannerly to thrust you forth of your own Rest: therefore we will rather sit up then disquiet you. Not so (quoth the old man (I have all my life time been brought up to hardness, and can endure it well, which I am sure you cannot do without the hazard of your healths. Then came the old Women bringing a light to conduct them unto the Chamber, which she had dressed so finely with green Rushes and sweet flowers, that it was most pleasant, though nothing costly. And leaving them there departed.  
Constantia seeing them gone, began to blush, to think she must be Persicles his Bedfellow, which he perceiving, folding her in his arms, said: Now Constantia, you must be a Wife before you are Married, which name you cannot now refuse, having given your con●ent thereunto already. I must of force be your Bedfellow, unless you will have me lie on the green Rushes: therefore I pray tell me: Whether you are willing to favour me so much, or no?  
Constantia betwixt a modest bashfulness, and a modest desire, stood mate, not knowing whether to consent or deny. Sometimes thinking her denial might disquiet him: and again, that to yield might make him suspect her of lightness: So that betwixt Fear and Hope, she continued silent, as it were overcome with a deep study.  
Persicles smiling thereat, said: My dear Love, I know with what motives your mind is now agitated: if you think it will impair your Honour to be my chaste Bed-fellow, I will rather lose my life then persuade you thereto: but if you will vouchsafe me such favour as to lie by you, in the most virtuous sort, I protest it shall be no dishonour to you, for that your Virgin purity shall not be spotted by the least thought of unlawful attempt in me: wherein if you will trust me: you shall find that I will use you both as beseemeth your Estate, agreeth with your Honour, and the virtuous meaning of a true Friend.  
My Lord (said Constantia,) do not think me either so immodestly scornful to distrust you, or so curious to think it will impair my Name to be your Bedfellow: Only this I would wish that the Rights of Marriage were performed, and then I were at your disposition.  
Lady (quoth he,) What needeth such strict performance of the outward Ceremonies, which maketh, not the Marriage: but those are truly Married, that with united hearts have plighted Promise of perpetual friendship; electing one the other by true Love, and not outward Ceremony; For where true Love is not, there can be no perfect Marriage, though the outward Ceremony be never so devoutly performed. Therefore if my opinion can prevail with you, we being without means to use the outward Ceremony, may confirm as true and constant a Contract betwixt ourselves (as though it were established by the rights of the Church.) This also maketh me use these reasons, sithence the means of performance of that being wanting, we may nevertheless still protract our happiness; for who are more happier than those that live in perfect Love, though never so miserable: For my part, I esteem your loving company above all joys; and the fruition of your Love more dear to me, than a thousand lives without the same. Then I beseech you let my entreaties so much prevail, that I may with your free consent possess your Love; for I vow never to love or choose other than yourself.  
Constantia hearing his speeches, and many other reasons that he alleged: At last made this answer; My Lord, relying upon your Virtues, true Love, and honourable meaning, I yield to your Request, giving my consent to be your Wife for ever; desiring you to dispose of me according to your mind; for you shall find me always obedient at your command. Thus ending their speeches, with many embrace, they addressed themselves to their Bridal bed, which resembled such a Bed indeed: For the old Woman had decked the Bed with her best linen and other furniture, stuck the same round about with sweet Roses, strewed the Chamber with green Rushes, filled the Windows with green Boughs and Flowers so thick in every place, giving such a sweet savour, that it might well be termed a Shepherd's Paradise.  
The two Lovers being in Bed, used that behaviour such Loveres do, thinking themselves Fortunate, the place pleasant, their meetings happy, and their Love sweet, enjoying content without control; Love without lust; and Pleasure without pride; He thinking his joys without compare, and she thinking none to be compared with hers. The Birds without singing their sweet Ditties in stead of Music, and the sweet Philomela hard by the Wall, with a merry note rejoicing at their pleasure.  
Thus did they pass over this night with exceeding content; and the next day in communication with the Shepherd, who committed both the Flocks to the government of his Son, for that himself would stay to bear them company; to whom he bore such an inward Love, wrought in him by a natural motion, that he thought himself most happy to do them any pleasure.  
Some three days stayed they with the Shepherd, being past fear to be discovered, for that they heard not of any enquiry was made after them, At last, one of the Knights that the King of Persia had privily sent forth in their search, chanced to come into the Plains where the Shepherd's son was keeping his Sheep, to whom he said: Shepherd, didst thou not see a Damsel lately pass by this way? Not I answered he: Why, what Damsel is it you ask for▪ The Knight either by his countenance, or stuttering in his answer, supposing it might be he had seen her, said: It is a Friend of mine that I esteem dear; She promised me I should hear of her hereabout, but my fortune hath not yet been so good, I cannot tell (said the Shepherd) it may be my father can tell you, who dwelleth hard by yonder thicket. The Knight with that left him, and road to the Shepherd's house, where he alighting, entered without calling, and found the Shepherd, his Wife, Persicles, and Constantia, all together: and presently knowing Constantia, he said; Lady Constantia, the King your Father makes great lamentation for your absence at the Court. With that they knew they were betrayed, and she with fear and grief, fell down in a trance: Whom with much ado they recovered. My Friend (quoth Persicles) thou art either very unmannerly, or thy Authority is great, that thou intrudest thyself into our company. Dost thou know that this is Constantia? Then where is thy reverence to her▪ Were it not for disquieting her, that is already distempered with thy presence, thou shouldst find cold entertainment.  
The Knight being much grieved to see Constantia so disquieted, said: I am sorry my presence hath troubled her, which was contrary to my mind; for be it far from my thought to work hec disquiet: the King of Persia missing her, hath sent out divers besides myself to seek her, with Commandment to bring her back to the Court, and amongst the rest, you see it is fallen to my lot to perform it; yet such regard do I bear unto her, that I will not do any thing disagreeing to her honourable mind. Constantia hearing his speeches, said; What is your name? My name (said he) is Pisor. Art thou of Assyria (quoth Persicles) and one of the Knights belonging to Piera? I am said he. Then I fear not but thou bearest a Knightly mind, and wilt rather conceal this Ladies being here, then betray her, by carrying her back: If not (for her own sake) yet for Persicles thy King, whom she loveth; and thou shouldest obey. Were it (quoth he) to venture my life for my Prince, I would most willingly do it, and if the Lady loveth him, and for that hath left the Court, I will hazard my life in her defence: and to my uttermost power procure her hearts desire. Then know Pisor, that Persicles heareth thy kind speeches and hath not sailed in his kind opinion of thy virtues; For I am he, though thus disguised. With that Pisor knew him, and humbled himself with great reverence unto him on his knee.  
Persicles rising up embraced him, telling him that he came in a most fortunate hour to do him pleasure. Constantia with this, was comforted again, and forget her former passion and fear. The old Shepherd and his wife were half amazed, until Persicles said: Father, be not any way disquieted with my knowledge; for though I am King of Assyria, I am thy Guest, and will for thy kindness reward thee liberally; desiring thee not to discover me to any; For if thou shouldest, it might hazard this Lady's life and mine, that are now in thy hands. With that, they both kneeled down, vowing that nothing should make them so disloyal. Then he said to Pisor, of old experience I know thou lovest me, and therefore I make no question of thy Fidelity, or doubt that thou wilt undertake any thing to pleasure me. Therefore I would have thee (with as much haste as might be) to Post into Assyria unto Parenus and Thrureus, whom I left my substitutes, and to them make my estate known, telling them that my desire is, that they come to me into this place, with a sufficient number of Horsemen to Guard me, and the Princess Constantia home; but to let none know their intent, which I take is the best course for our safety; For if we should seek other means by travel, Constantia is not able to endure it; which also might be a means to discover us, so many being abroad in our search. Pisor presently obeyed him, and taking his leave, departed onwards on his journey, leaving Persicles and Constantia in the Shepherd's cottage.   

CHAP. VI How Helyon was in love with Selia, and hearing of his Father's sickness obtained leave to depart. And of the Desolation that was befallen in Assiria by the treason of Duke Oretus.  
NOw Helyon remembering the pleasure he had with his Country Lover, desired much to see her again; with whom he was more deeply in Love, than ever he was with Constantia: for the Love he before bare to her, was turned to hatred: and the cause of his importunacy to the King to have her found, was with a malicious disposition of Revenge, not of any Honourable inclination, being of such variable and inconstant Nature, that the least occasion altered his wavering mind, either to love or hatred: Which was unfit for a man of so great a birth as he derived himself from. And now having past many days colouring his pretence under the shadow of feigned sorrow, he longed to visit his Lover Selia. Therefore finding a time fit for his intent, he with his Servant Aldrus road thither. At his coming, finding Selia again clothed in her Country Weeds. Who espying him, with a modest blush came to meet him: Whom he embraced most kindly in his arms, ask her how she fared? My Lord (said she) your Handmaid rejoiceth to sëe your worthy person in this homely Cottage, whose heart can attain no quiet, but by your remembrance. By this time her Parents were come in, who seeing the Prince did him humble reverence: He like wise saluting them with great courtesy. When he had stayed there most part of the day in private conference with his Love, he departed: The next day repairing thither again. Which he like wise did for many days after.  
In the end, growing to such extremity of passion, that he told Selia, he woul● Mary her: And withal, made her Parents acquainted therewith, who willingly gave their consent thereto, and by this means he enjoyed her company of all times according to his desire.  
In this sort did he visit her many days, doting exceedingly on his Country Selia, thinking no Lady in the Court comparable unto her, and like wise dissembling exceeding grief for Constantia, so that the King highly commended his Constancy, esteeming him the more for not altering his mind. Within few days, News was ●●ought to the Persian Court, that the King of Arabia was very sick: which caused Helyon to desire the King of Persia's consent to his departure; which he granted: First having received his faithful Oath to marry Constantia, which he swore to perform at his return.  
Most of the Knights that went in search of Constantia were returned, not one of them bringing news of her: Which drove the King into such a rage, that he seemed quite bereft of sense, causing them to make more open enquiry, and to promise great Reward to those that could tell of her.  
By this time likewise Pisor had been in Assyria, and again returned to the Shepherd's house: Whom Persicles welcomed, as glad that he was so soon returned. But Pisors' countenance bewrayed some ill News, which Persicles soon perceived: and being unwilling Constantia should hear aught that might breed in her any discontent, walked aside with him into the Thicket of a Wood hard by the house, where Pisor said: My Lord, I have a Tragic discourse to reveal, that maketh my heart melt to think thereof, which I would had not been my ill Fortune to have brought you news of.  
At my coming into Assyria, I passed many miles before I found an Assyrian to converse withal: For that the Towns and Villages which before were replete with store of Inhabitants, were now consumed by Fire, and not a house standing alone, but was despoiled, and the people from their dwellings fled away, which caused me make the more haste: hoping that all was not destroyed. And coming more near the Court, in my way I found the bodies of the Assyrians lying dead, and confusedly strewed upon the Earth, as i● some battle had been lately fought in that place: Those which lay dead, seeming to have fled to save their lives. And the farther I passed, ●he more did the number increase: which I followed so long, that I was persuaded, those that destroyed them were not far off but yet went so far before me, that I could not overtake them, for the boys of some were not yet cold, and others lay struggling to over ma●ter Death. Where with I was so amazed, that I set spurs to my Stéeds sides and road withal the hast I could, until at last I espied ● mighty Army of Soldiers right before me, upon the Mount Silo, whose multitude seemed to be innumerable. Near unto which, I was no sooner come, but I espied an Assyrian wounded grievously, ●o whom I drew nigh, and soon knew him to be Parenus, and discovering myself unto him, desired him to tell me what Treason had ●rought him to that dangerous estate. With that he knowing me, ●ayd.  
Pisor, such misery is befallen us Assyrians, as we shall be a reproach and scandal to all the World: Which I would repeat, but before that I can make an end, Death will stop my speech; therefore first tell me how my Lady Piera fareth?  
Noble Duke (said I) she is in good health, and in great prosperity. I rejoice thereat (quoth he) though I have otherwise everlasting cause to sorrow. For our Sovereign Lord the King, after he had put the Armenians to flight, was very desirous upon some occasion (as yet unknown) to leave the Court, in his absence committing the Government thereof to my unhappy self, and that noble Knight Thrureus, which we performed with great quiet: until Duke Oretus, one that was never true to the State, hearing of the King's departure, which we could by no means conceal, raised a false report, that we had murdered the King: Which rumour moved the Common people to such disquiet, that they began to Rebel: Which he perceiving (aiming thereby to win the Crown) gathered a great multitude of them together, with pretence of revenge against us, which when we heard of, with all the hast we could possible, we Mustered men for our defence; but so eager were the multitude to our destruction, together with Oretus his persuasions, that before we were any way able to resist them, they set upon us, and shed a great number of their own Country men's blood, that stood in our defence, and drove us to immure ourselves within the City. The King of Armenia hearing of this Rebellion, with great speed brought a mighty great Army into this Land, destroying all that came in his way, burning both Towns and Cities, and destroying the common people with an exceeding great Slaughter. Which came to Oretus hearing, with such terror, that he presently fled, and left his Confederate Rebels to be destroyed by the Enemy: Which caused us by a Herald to demand whether they would submit themselves to us or no? Or by their treason to see their Country's ruin? With that they yielded, and we gathered all the Forces we could to resist the enemies, with whom we fought three great Battles, and in the same lost above thirty thousand Assyrians, being driven to flight: This day again gathering head to resist them; but being too few in number, in respect of their strength and multitude, you see how our bodies be scattered upon the Earth, mangled and cut in pieces: Myself being I think, the last that liveth to tell this news. For the Noble Thrureus is already slain, whose deeds of Valour would contain a great volume: Which news when our King shall hear, it will no doubt cut off his virtuous life with sorrow. My greatest grief being that I cannot hear of his safety before my death. My Lord, said I, our gracious King is living, and in good health in Persia, who sent me unto your Honour, and Thrureus, with a secret Message which I need not now unfold. Yes good Pisor, (quoth he) let me hear my Lord's Message, that I may thereby know whether I were still in his favour or no. With that I unfolded the cause of my coming: Which heard, such a passion of discontent overcame his vital spirits, that with many bitter groans he gave up the ghost. When I saw there was no means for his recovery, I departed, to inquire what slaughter the Enemy had made, who by that time the day was ended, had vanquished the Assyrian forces, taking the City and most of the Nobility Prisoners. I stayed some four days, hiding me secretly to bring you certain News, which is this. The King of Armenia compelled the Noblemen to swear Allegiance unto Palyon his eldest Son, whom he hath crowned King in Assyria, and left a mighty Army for his defence. When I understood this, I returned to certify your Highness thereof.   

CHAP. VII. How Persicles hearing the news by Pisor, he departed into a solitary place, and thereby caused the unfortunate separation between him and Constantia, who in great sorrow wand'ring to seek him, was found by Helyon, and carried into Arabia. And of the many sorrows Persicles endured for her absence. How Pisor became frantic.  
PErsicles his heart was overcome with such sorrow to hear Pisors heavy News, that he had much ado to contain himself from extreme madness; that he minded a while to withdraw himself to utter his plaints in those solitary walks; but seeing Pisor follow him, he desired him to return to the shepherd's house, and in no case to acquaint Constantia with these misfortunes. But if she asked for him, he should tell her he would come presently.  
Pisor being departed, he sought for the most unfrequented ●lace of the Wood, wand'ring long in that discontent, but could find none agreeable to his mind: neither knowing whether he went, nor almost what ●e intended: his senses being dulled with such passionate vexation, continuing so long therein, that he spent longer time in seeking out a place of rest, than he was aware off, which turned to his greater unrest, as afterwards it fell out. For Constantia marveling that he stayed so long, and withal noting Pisors' darkened countenance, supposed some ill news was the cause of both, finding occasion fit, thought to find her Love in the midst of his dumps, and with her amiable presence to comfort him, stole from the Cottage into the Wood, where Pisor told her that he had left him: Where she wandered up and down a great while, not finding him, which made her marvel, sometimes calling him▪ but not by his right name, lest any should hear her: and finding that means to prevail nothing, she began to enter into many doubtful thoughts; sometimes calling his Loyalty in question, than again, reproving her fancies, for entering into suspicion of him, then thinking some ill news was befallen in Assyria, which might drive him into a careless desperation, and also fearing tha● some of the Persian Knights had met with him, and finding some likelihood of suspicion in him, had carried him to the King her Father. These Meditations possessed her mind so long, and wrought such a terror in her fancies, that she fared like one that had been possessed with the truth, that it was so. Thus did they both continue most part of that day, she seeking him, and he oppressed with care, not remembering that it was time to return home, yet both of them directing their steps a contrary way, that they met not, but wandered a way from one another. At last, he began to remember where he was, how long he had been absent, and what care she would take for his absence, which caused him with as much speed to haste back, as with carelessness he had wandered up and down, which before he could at●ain, it grew to be towards Night. Pisor likewise marveling at his long stay, and at Constantiaes' sudden departure, fearing that some ill might betid him, and some extraordinary care oppress her, left the Cottage to find him, and if he could meet her, to direct her to the place where he left him.  
When Persicles found them both absent, he marvelled thereat: enquiring of the old Woman when they departed: who told him that Constantia went first out, and he after her. Which made him think, that she missing him so long, might go to seek him: and Pisor followed her, thinking to direct her, lest she should wander astray, as she might well do in those unfrequented places. But when he had a long time continued in those dumps, and saw neither of them return, he began to enter into many misdoubts, such as proceed from the unquiet motions of distempered thoughts: being fearful to depart thence again, lest he might so miss them.  
Pisor being entered the Wood, came to the place where he had left Persicles, but could neither find him there, nor Constantia, which made him wander up and down so long, that he was weary: At last coming to a shady place, and laying himself down to rest, casting up his eyes, espied most beautiful fruit upon a Tree, hanging right over his head: The sight whereof pleased him so well, that plucking some of the same, he found the taste pleasant, which caused him to eat many of them; which made him presently to fall into a deadly sleep. The name of the Fruit is called Pilos, the nature whereof is, to procure those that taste thereof, first to sleep, without a waking, for the space of four and twenty hours, and after to become Frantic, for the space of three Months, which hindered Pisor from returning.  
When Persicles had stayed so long expecting their return, vn●ill it began to be dark, he again went out, telling the Shepherd that he was going to seek them; cruel Fortune directing his steps directly to the place whereas Pisor lay sleeping, whom he be●eld, and neither by calling, nor by any other means could awake ●im: a deadly fear possessed his Fancy, that some furious Beast had ●laine him, and either devoured Constantia, or pursued her, flying ●rom him; Which caused him like a Frantic man to draw forth ●isors Sword, running up and down to seek that which was not here to be found.  
Constantia by this time was wandered so far in search of Per●●cles, that she could by no means tell which way to return alaine, but she was constrained all that night to wander up and down, ●ith hope to have returned. But contrary to her thought, going a quite contrary way, her fear and care causing her to make the more speed; that being wearied with travel, coming to the outside of the Wood, she sat down upon a Bank, and there after she had bewailed her miserable estate, and wearied her senses with sorrow, as she had her body with travel, she fell asleep.  
Now it so fell out, that Helyon the day before, had taken his leave of the King of Persia, to travel into Arabia, and that Night lay at Seliaes' Fathers, causing her to be attired in rich Ornaments, that morning carried her with him into Arabia, intending there to make her his Bride: and by misfortune, passed by the place where Constantia lay fast asleep; some of his followers soon espied her, and ●hewed her to Helyon. Selia likewise seeing her, presently told Helyon that her Apparel was either the same which Constantiaes' Gentlewoman took from her in the Persian Court or so like it, that she could not know one from the other. Helyon himself road to her and awaked her, by his former disposition and her Countenance, which was still in his remembrance, perfectly knowing her. She likewise at the very first sight knowing him, which amated her senses with deadly fear. To whom he said; My dear Constantia, what hath caused you thus discourteously to reject my Love, and leave the Persian Court, to endure this hard Fortune, so much disagreeing to your estate? Yet at length I beseech you accept of my Love, and go with me into Arabia.  
Leave off your dissembling speeches (quoth Constantia) and let me alone; for I had rather all my life lie on this cold Earth, then live in all ease with you. With that she would have left him, but he commanded his Servants to take her by force into the Coach, and so carry her along with him into Arabia, not letting any know what she was but only his Selia. When Constantia saw that of force she must needs go, she uttered such plaints and made such sorrowful exclamations, that those which guarded her, thought she would have fallen mad; though neither knowing her, nor her cause of sorrow, yet inwardly in their hearts pitying her.  
Whom we will leave, fully possessed with the uttermost extremity of anguish onwards towards Arabia, the place she most of all loathed, to speak of Persicles who in a mad fury having run up and down a great while in the Wood, again returned into the Shepherd's house, see if Constantia were not yet returned, but there he found only the Shepherd and his Wife in great care, awaiting his return: who espying the Sword in his hand, and his face and hands in many places bloody, which was with the scratches he had received in the dark Wood, were ready to run from him for fear: but he mildly demanded if Constantia were yet come back, who told him they saw her not? Alas (qd he) poor Lady, I fear she is devoured by some merciless Beast: For I found Pisor lying dead in the Wood: Which affrighteth me with such fear of her mishap, that I know not what to do, nor which way to go in her search.  
My Lord (said the old Shepherd) I can assure you, there doth no Wild Beast haun●●● is Wood, for than could not my flocks feed in quiet: of which I have not lost one Lamb by any casualty: but rather I think my Lady missing you all the day, is wandered so far into the Wood, that she cannot return, nor you find her: whom I do not doubt but to find in the Morning: neither is he dead, but I believe hath tasted some of our unlucky fruit called Pylos, that hath cast him into a dead sleep, and after that he will be Frantic for a certain space.  
Persicles was wonderfully comforted with the Shepherd's speeches, yet notwithstanding leaving him, and all that Night wand'ring up and down the Wood to find her, but he spent his labour in vain, neither that night nor the next day finding her, which drove him so far beyond the compass of natural continency, that if he remained long in that extreme perplexity, it would cut off his life. When he saw himself void of all hope, without means how to find her, and assurance that she was not within the Wood, he laid him down upon the earth, uttering these laments. How fortunate had I been had I never set foot in the Persian soil? then had I still been King of Assyria, & Constantia in quiet in her Father's Court: whereas now, both I, but especially herself, are fallen into extreme misery. Had it only fallen to my share to have endured a thousand more misfortunes, I could with patience have endured them: only this tormenteth me, that my misfortune hath brought her from Weal to we: from quiet to discontent: from pleasure, to pain: from happiness to misery, and from life to death, I cannot tell how to prevent these evils, to sit here, and utter sad words availeth me not: to bewail her estate, helpeth her: nor to destroy myself, will benefit her: should I sit still here, so shall I never find her: and to seek for her out of this place, is to spend my Labours without hope of comfort. For I fear me she is dead, and then may I sooner meet her Ghost in this place, than her Body in another. Well, since neither comfort nor counsel is left to further my hopes, I will forever dwell in this unfortunate place, and fill the same with my Laments: neither shall my body rest in bed, nor my stomach taste of other meat then wild fruit, until I find my Love, or be assured of the place of her abode.  
Thus lived he in those Woods many days, and many years, making every Tree a monument of Constantias v●●●●tunate loss, though he were often dissuaded by Pisor, who afterwards traveled most parts of all those Countries in search of her, but could never hear of her. The King of Persia had likewise given over all care of Constantia, as supposing her to be dead: greatly lamenting the misfortunes of Persicles, and marvelling at his absence, beléeving verily that he was murdered, according to the accusation made by Oretus, against Parenus and Thrureus. Whom we will all leave for a while, to speak of the misfortunes befell to Constantia.   

CHAP. VIII. How Selia was married to Helyon, and of the miseries Constantia endured by her jealousy. How Constantia was delivered of a goodly Boy: whose life was preserved by the policy of Palia, and how Selia vexed thereat.  
HElyon was no sooner arrived in Arabia, but he was informed of his Father's death, which for a time he lamented of common course, not of piety or affection: in the mean time, causing Constantia to be kept in the old Monastery under the government of an ancient Lady, that lived not only by the gifts of the King bestowed upon her, for many bad actions, but also of many Gentlemen that haunted the Company of the King's Concubines by stealth. In this place did he put Constantia, neither her Keeper, nor any other knowing what she was: Who by this time had resolved to endure adversity, for many days giving herself to quiet, for that by reason of his counterfeit mourning, he came not at her.  
But the time being come that he was crowned King, and on the same day likewise married Selia, causing poor Constantia as one of her Handmaids to attend her: Which he did of a malicious intent▪ only to vex her: but she was well contented to do any thing to rid her of his hateful Love, whom she abhorred in the very depth of her Soul. But when he saw she endured the same with such patience, he again caused her to be closely kept in that Monastery, giving commandment that none but the old Lady named Palia, should come at her.  
Thus did she continue, until she began to feel herself with Child by Persicles, which drove her to the uttermost exigent of care, how to preserve her Infant's life; Sometimes purposing to make her estate known to Palia, but having sufficient trial of her wicked disposition, she durst not trust her, lest she should reveal the same to the King.  
Selia like wise at that very instant was great with Child by Helyon, both conceiving at one instant, the one in the Persian Court, and the other in the Shepherd's cottage. Selia made Helyon acquainted therewith, desiring that she might be delivered thereof in some private place, where the Ladies of the Court might not know thereof, which would turn to her everlasting scandal.  
Helyon well knowing the nature of the people, in what detestable sort they held adultery in their Queen, thought no place so fit for the accomplishment thereof, as in the Monastery where Constanti● was, unto which place she was soon conveyed: report being given out by the King's command, that she was for the preservation of her health, secretly departed into the Country.  
The Queen being come into the Monastery, asked for Constantia, who was presently brought before her, whom Selia now began to hate mortally, being very jealous of her, and supposing that the King still Loved her: wh●● she used so disdainfully upbraiding her with many undecent speeches. Which Constantia took most patiently, only with Tears lamenting her misfortunes. And so proudly and scornfully did she behave herself towards Palia, and all that attended her, that they began to dislike of her.  
Palia seeing the pride of the Queen, and in what disdainful sort▪ she used her, accusing her to be privy to the King's secret love to Constantia using her so distrustfully, and with such evil terms, began to hate her. Which Constantia perceived by some doubtful speeches she gave out against her. Whereupon, finding a fit opportunity, when she was vexed with her unkindness, she came to Palia, and said: I perceive the Queen useth you but unkindly, regarding to use none well, though they give her no cause at all. She likewise misuseth me, that never in my life offended her, but have been the greatest cause of her good, I would gladly entreat your aid, and withal reveal many things unto you, that you yet know not, if I were assured of your secrecy: which I am the more fearful to reveal, for that they are matters of importance, wherein notwithstanding if you would vouchsafe your assistance to pity my miserable estate, you shall do a deed of everlasting merit.  
Palia hearing her speeches, said: if I may likewise without fear make my mind known unto you, be your assured I do so mortally hate her, that rewardeth my dutiful service with disdain, that I will not leave any thing unattempted to vex her, and pleasure you: therefore if an Oath may assure you of my secrecy, having no other means at this instant to give proof thereof, I vow by all the good I ever expect, never to reveal what you disclose to me, but most faithfully labour to pleasure you to my power. Then know (qd Constantia) that I am Daughter to the King of Persia, sometimes brought up in this Court: and your Queen but the Daughter of a Country-swain in Persia, that being exalted to dignity, though basely borne, behaveth herself thus proudly: I fearing my Father would have married me to Helyon against my will, having betrothed myself to the King of Assyria, with him stole from the Court in this Apparel of Selia, that is now your Queen: much search was made for me, but they could never find me: for I lived with my Lord in this disguise in a Shepherd's house, until one day I missing him strayed so far from the House, that I could not return, but by misfortune was found by Helyon, and thus as you see brought into this Country, either to my death or to a worse end. I am likewise great with Child, and within short space shall be delivered. My earnest desire is, that you would use some means to preserve my Babe from death, which no doubt it is likely to endure by her malice and his cruelty.  
Palia having heard her Speeches, Reverenced her comforted her, and promised her with many Vows and Protestations, to fulfil her desire thereby to work some revenge against the Queen. In her heart pitying the distress of Constantia, of whose Virtues she had before times some knowledge. With this Promise did Constantia somewhat comfort herself, hoping yet in the end to escape from that Bondage, being daily cherished by old Palia: who behaved herself towards Selia, with such duty and obedience, notwithstanding her often upbraid, that she still kept herself in most place of credit about her.  
The day being now come that the Queen was delivered of a goodly Boy, and Constantia the next Night of another, none being privy thereto but Palia, who handled the matter with such cunning, that she conveyed Constantiaes' Child to Selia, and hers to Constantia, making her acquainted with her intent therein. The next day declaring to Helyon, how that the Damsel in her custody was delivered of a Boy. Helyon hearing that, willing her to keep the same secret from any, upon pain of death: Not so much as once to reveal it to the Queen, vowing ere many days to destroy it. Giving Order to have his own Christened, naming him Perus: And coming to the Queen, told her it were best to be Nursed in the Country, who was contented to be ruled by him. Then calling to him Palia, he told her, that she must needs provide a Nurse for his Son, who already having complotted what she intended, told him that she knew a kinswoman of hers, that was lately brought to Bed, some twenty miles off in the Country, to whom she would (if it liked him) convey the Infant.  
Helyon was glad of her promise, appointing her all things fit for her departure, the next morning. Late in the Evening, when Palia was sure none could see her, she went to Constantia, telling her what she had intended: Withal, ask her counsel what he should do.  
Ay me, (quoth Constantia) I know not in this extremity what to resolve upon, fearing never to see my Son again: and if thou goest I lose my greatest comfort. Then taking the Chiloc in her arms, and bestowing many Teare-wet kisses thereon, she said Palia, I pray thee let me know what thou intendest to do with it? Lady (quoth she) if you persuade me not to the contrary, after I am departed this Court, I will never leave travelling until I arrive in Assyria: where I do not doubt but to find Persicles, unto whom I will declare your misfortunes: But if I find him not there, I will then Travel into Persia, to the place where you lost him, where I shall then assuredly find him: that he (knowing your estate) may seek to release you. And wilt thou do this for in (said Constantia) that am never likely to make thee amends? I will (qd Palia) and with such faithfulness execute the charge I undertake, as shall turn to thy everlasting quiet.  
Many speeches passed betwixt them before they parted, but yet in the end she was constrained to leave Constantia, almost dead with grief, but afterwards somewhat comforted, with the good hope she had of her faithful dealing: Of two evils thinking it the best to commit the Babe to her custody, who by all likelihoods intended well thereto. Early the next Morning Palia departed, having none in her Company, with all the hast she could travelling towards Assyria.  
Helyon now began to meditate on Constantiaes' Fortune, and who should be the Father of her Child: and whereas before he determined to pen her up in that Cloister, until she would yield to his desire, he now resolved to revenge the disdain she had shown, in refusing his Love, with all Cruelty: that finding occasion when none could interrupt his speeches, being alone with her in her chamber, he thus said. Disdainful and discourteous Lady, did you esteem so basely of my Love, in my contempt, to choose some base-born Peasant, to possess that which I long sought with such devoted affection: and refusing my Honourable proffer, to choose rather to become another's Harlot. Who would ever have thought thy comely person shadowed with so fair a pretext, had inwardly nourished such ignoble affections. Do you think the King of Persia will rejoice to hear that his fair Daughter Constantia, (that may well be termed Incontinency) hath so vildly stained her Princely blood and defamed her Royal stock, with so infamous a fact, or not rather die with grief.  
Therefore to prevent so great a mischief as will come by his death, I will be the mean to keep thy fact from coming to his knowledge, and in his behalf, work such Revenge as shall be agreeable to so great an offence. Yet let me know the cause of thy contempt against me, and who is the Father of thy bastard? Which if thou refusest to do by gentle means to unfold, I will by force compel thee thereunto.  
Constantia with Patience heard out his speeches, and with as great Patience answered him. Helyon, I can well bear your Opprobrious speeches, neither will I impugn how scandalous they are: For the Father of this Infant is as good as yourself, and him I Love, far more honourable and virtuous than Helyon, King of Arabia, who ensureth me according to the quality of his own disposition. The reason I left my Father's Court, was to avoid your importunate suit, which was unpleasing to me, in respect of the honourable Love I embraced: therefore beware you abuse not Constantia. For though the King of Persia will not revenge my wrongs, yet there is a King as mighty as he, claimeth my possession, and will not suffer me to be injured.  
What? is a King the Father of that Bastard (qd he?) No thou shalt never persuade me to that, for it looketh not like a King, but is the perfect Image of a Foole. Yea (said Constantia,) and yet a King as wise as thyself, and that ere long thou shalt know, for the Father thereof is privy to all thy Actions, although thou thinkest me safely kept.  
And if thou dost murder it, I care not, for thyself will be the first that shall repent the deed. And for me, use me well, for the Father of this Child loveth thee well, and yet thou wilt be thine own destruction in seeking his death.  
Helyon understood not her meaning, marvelling who it should be she meant, that he said: I think thou art mad, or counterfeytest some deceit by the ambiguity of thy speeches: for how can the Father of that Brat love me? Or what cause should there be to make me repent any thing that I should do to it: Which the rather shall suffer my wrath, because of thy derisions: Therefore resolve me, or be assured of my everlasting hatred. I neither (said she) regard thee, nor thy hate: utterly denying to fulfil thy request in any respect. Yet if thou hadst not demanded it, I would peradventure have told it thee: Do the worst thou canst, I care not for misery, itself hath made me so resolute to endure the greatest extremity. And know, that I so much the more dislike this Babe, because it is like thee, that hath no spark of honour or honesty in thee. Ask me no more questions, for I will not answer thereto, esteeming myself more fortunate in thy hatred, than thy friendship: for the one is but the distemperate motion of a Cowardly disposition, and the other, the inconstant falsehood of a shallow-Wit.  
Helyon was much vexed to see how lightly she esteemed him that almost ready to tear his hair, he went raging and swearing from her, meditating which way to work hi● Revenge. Selia noting his distemperature, by his pale Countenance, asked him what had disquieted him? To whom he gave no answer at all, casting a scornful look towards her; which she took in such suspicious sort, that she presently supposed he did it in scorn of her, and her heart being puffed up full of jealousy, could not detain itself, from bursting forth into Tears, and then into these speeches.  
My Lord, I now perceive the Love you protested to bear me, is altered, and I like a poor Cast away, like to live in misery: would to God I had still lived in my contented estate in Persia, then should I not have been subject to these misfortunes. Constantia whom you tol●e me loved you not, is she that hath stolen away your Affection, and on her you dote, despising me: wherein you show the inconstancy of your variable disposition: besides, she hath disclosed what I am, and that maketh me be scorned and despised of the Ladies of this Court, that the misery I am like to endure, is intolerable. Do not (said he) disquiet yourself with the least suppose of such alteration in me: for by Heaven I vow, I love none but yourself: the cause of my vexation is, how to revenge myself on Constantia, that even now hath used me with approbrious terms. Besides, she is brought to Bed of a Bastard, begotten of some base-born Peasant, which shall not live long to vex me. I would I had left her in Persia, so have been devoured by wild beasts, rather than pitying her, for to work myself this disquiet. Should I send word to the King of Persia, he would compel me to marry her, or else bring open War against my Kingdom: or if I should seek her death, the knowledge thereof would by some means come to his hearing, and then would he seek revenge against me: that in this extremity, I know not which way to rid myself from her. Selia, hearing him say she had a Bastard, presently began to suspect it was his: which she would then have uttered, but that fear and premeditated hope of revenge against Constantia, withheld her, thinking first to learn the truth before she would offend him: perceiving his inconstant disposition to be such, that the least thing altered his Love: deferring the same until her Month was ended, by which means Constantia rested void of disturbance. The flame of envious suspicion, burnt so furiously in her breast, that as soon as she had forsaken the Monastery, and had a while with all kindness behaved herself towards the Nobles and Ladies of most estimation, thereby to insinuate into their good opinion, she came to Constantia fawning upon her with an affable countenance, and using many speeches of courtesy towards her, with intent to lift out the truth of her suspicion. Helyon, hearing that she was in the Monastery, fearing she would have done Constantia some violence, followed her, and found her in quiet conference with her. Selia seeing him there, was half astonished, supposing he had not known thereof: and withal, now of a truth suspecting that he came to visit Constantia of Love, and not to seek her: again burst forth into tears, whereon he took occasion to say, Selia, I perceive suspicion is the cause of your disquiet: Therefore so show what little cause you have to use me so, do but say what I shall do to this dishonourable Lady, and I will perform it. Constantia then began to fear some mischief was near her, which might easily have been perceived by the oft change of her countenance: who made this reply. Helyon, if thy Queen knew how much I disdained thee, such motions of suspect for me, would not disquiet her▪ For I contemn the base dispositions, which is ready to alter with the ●last of every inconstant wind, Or Selia dost thou think that my mind will stoop to his base lust, or become Concubine to so degenerate a wretch, and to thy Husband? No, I will rather see thy body forne into pieces, and suffer the cruelest misery in the World: he threatened me with terrible speeches, but his Coward's heart is not of courage to execute his detested will. Therefore thou that peradventure art of a more hardy and inhuman disposition, comest to encourage him to mischief: do the worst you can both, for I fear you not, but would gladly be rid out of this miserable life. And rid thou shalt soon be (said Selia) notwithstanding thy counterfeit dissimulation, thinking with disdainful speeches to colour thy wickedness: I am indeed come to be revenged on thee, that crossest my content, and first shall that Bastard feel the smart of my wrath: then catching the Child out of the cradle where it lay, she held the same by the Heels in the one hand, and the knife in the other, ready to deprive it of life, until Helyon withheld her, and Constantia said, Nay, Let her murder it, and let herself be the first that will repent it: yet first view it well, and see if it resemble not the Father that standeth by: I assure thee it is his, and that thou shalt soon know.  
Out upon thee (said Helyon) I defy thee. With that Selia viewed it well, and perceived that it resembled him perfectly, wherewith she cast the same on the Earth, saying: Did you bring me hither to do me this intolerable wrong,? Shall I suffer myself to be thus abused, and live to endure perpetual discontent? The Péers of this Land shall understand the wrongs I sustain, and if none else, mine own hands shall work revenge. Constantia, then said Selia, take up the Infant, and cherish it, for it is thine own: My child by this time is conveyed far enough from thy power, by Palia, who pitying my distress, and scorning to be subject to the base Pride, hath interchanged one for the other, leaving thine with me, and carrying my Infant into Assyria, unto the King Persicles, who is Father thereof, who I do not doubt, will soon revenge the wrong is done to me: Neither do thou jealously suspect me for that degenerate K. thy Husband: for she that is Daughter to the King of Persia, scorneth to be thy Corrival: if I had dealt unfaithfully with him, than might he worthily have inflicted this punishment upon me: but his own Conscience knoweth I always refused to yield to love him, my Love being before vowed to the King of Assyria. Both of them were amazed at her speeches. Selia with haste taking up her son, that lay sprawling at her feet, almost half dead with crying: an● ●●lyon after a deep study, saying: Constantia, I perceive thou knowest not how unable the King of Assyria is to redeem thee from hence, being lately dispossessed of his Crown by the King of Armenia, and by the Treason of his own Subjects, being himself driven to live in obscurity. Therefore this will I do in satisfaction of my mind against thee: thou shalt never depart from hence, but in this Cloister end thy life, unless the most valiantest Knight in the world redeem thee: for such a sure Guard will I set over thee, as shall be overcome by none. Constantia was no whit grieved to hear that Doom of her Imprisonment, but only the suspect she had of his speeches of Persicles, overcame her heart with such fear, that she fell down into a deadly trance: Those that were about her, having much ado to recover her. Wherewith they left her: Helyon giving command that most diligent search should be made for Palia, through the whole Country of Arabia.   

CHAP. IX. How Helyon built an Enchanted Tower, and put Constantia therein. How he was imprisoned therein himself in great misery, by the Enchantress Ila.  
WIthin few Days after, Helyon purposing to effect that which he had Vowed, calling all the cunningest Workmen of his Land before him, ask their advice, about building a Castle of invincible strength, which they promised him to perform: and so began to Work, scituating the same upon a Rocky hill of exceeding largeness, that was encompassed with a Lake of exceeding depth. First encompassing the circuit of the ground, with a well framed of the hardest Marble, of such smoothness, without, and height, that it was not to be ascended. Over the Lake they framed a Bridge of exceeding beauty, placing at the entrance two Porches or Fortifications betwixt them setting a Gate of Brass, curiously wrought, with carved Images of Lions, being the Arms of Arabia, On the midst they placed a Draw bridge, drawn upon such devices. as the labour of one man was able to do the same with speed.  
At the further end of the Bridge, was their builded a most curious wrought Gatehouse, garnished with stones of sundry colours, and exceeding strange: The entrance thereto was another Gate of Brass, far exceeding the first, for beauty, bigness and strength, in the midst above the top thereof, were placed in the carved form of six Golden Lions of exceeding bigness, whose proportion might be discerned far off. Within this Porch was there a large Court, encompassed round with Turrets, Walls, and Fortifications: within the compass whereof, an Army of Soldiers might lie encamped. The next Entrance, was three gates of Brass, carved like the other two: over which was built a Tower of wonderful Beauty, and workmanship framed of Adamant, cut out and carved into the form of sorts of Beasts, Trees, Herbs, and Fowls: the beauty whereof, would have held the beholder in admiration: on the tops whereof, were built four Pinnacles in a Squadrant, whose glistering Veins and carved work, shone against the Sun, as if the same had been framed of beaten Gold. Within this Tower, was there a Court, encompassed round about with most rich and stately Buildings, having several doors into every building of an invincible strength, framed all of one proportion, guilded over with Gold. The Window of an exceeding largeness and beauty: supported by two Lions of carved Alabaster, guilded over with Gold: On the top next to the Eues two Cherubs standing in form of Angels, of carved Gold, supporting the Picture of a beautiful Lady: the Windows discovering the exceeding richness of the Chambers within. In the midst of this Court, was framed a clear Fountain, with divers streams of water, springing from the same, curiously carved, and guilded over with Gold: the brightness glistering such a reflection of the Sun's beams round about, that at the first entrance it would have dazzled the beholder's eyes.  
At the further end of this Court was there a Hall of exceeding largeness, supported within, with Pillars of Geate, beset with stones of sundry colours, and exceeding richness, the Skréene being framed of the most curious work of carued-Wood: the Roof of Stone, wherein were coloured out the forms of all kinds of Fruits: the Walls hung with Rich-hanging of Arras, containing the Histories of the Wars of Troy. In the midst of this Hall, was fastened two Pillars, where to were chained two Lions of huge bigness, and wonderful strength, denying any farther Entrance. The farther end of the Hall, was without any Wall at all, supported by Pillars of the same Geate, lying open into a Garden of exceeding largeness, which at the first entrance into the Hall was gloriously discerned. In which were made Walks for pleasure, Arbours, borders of Flowers, the forms of all things cut out in Herbs: Flowers to delight the Eye, please the smell, and of strange forms, and all things so curiously wrought, as was strange to behold. In the midst of this Garden, stood a Banqueting-house of round proportion, the foundation supported by 4. Lions of carved blue Stone called Airs: The Windows round about that encompassed the same, through which the Light passed clearly without impediment: the Pillars, Casements, and other proportions of such excellent workmanship, that it seemed to be altogether framed of Crystal. On the top of this house stood the form of an Angel framed of beaten Gold pointing with his finger towards the other Lodgings of wonderful rich Building. At the farther end of the Garden, the description whereon is hereafter set down. When Helyon had finished this work, he called unto him, one called Penthrasus, an ancient professor of Necromancy, and with him alone, went unto the Palace, she wing the same, and why he had built it, desiring his Counsel and aid to the performance of his Will.  
Penthrasus' desirous likewise to practise his Art, which before he durst not do, for by the Laws of the Land, the same was punished with death. Which now he thought none durst contradict, because the King was consenting thereto: Promised by his Art to make the same so invincible, that it should never be overcome by strength nor policy. Then did he advise the King to bring Constantia thither, and two Damsels to attend her, attiring her with most Rich Ornaments. When the King had performed this, and delivered her to Penthrasus: taking a Condition of him, that none but himself should be suffered to have entrance there, he departed, leaving her there to be entertained of Penthrasus; who led her into the Castle, appointing her Damsels where they should have all things necessary: and withal, telling her that it should be many years before she should be delivered. After he had placed her there, he began to cast about for to Fortify the same: And first by his Art, he found that there lived in the Desert of Arabia, two mighty Giants of unwonted proportion, and huge strength, whom he found out, casting such a bewitched Charm upon them, that they presently followed him unto the Castle, which he afterwards named Penthrasus' Palace; by his Charms and Spells binding them to keep the first entrance of the Bridge, and by his Sorceries guarding every entrance in such strong sort, as it was impossible to be overcome. When he had performed every thing according to his mind, he brought thither his Wife, named Ila, determined to spend the rest of his life there. Within few years he fell sick, and by his Art found the date of his life to be nigh an end. Whereupon he went unto the Oracle of the Hesperian Nymphs in the Desert, which he was strictly enjoined unto by a Vision, which he saw in his sleep, to know what he should determine as concerning those charm, she had set upon the Castle? Whose answer was this:  
Penthrasus, because by thine Art thou hast not attempted any wickes' Action, and to disclose the Destinies, many a Knight of sundry strange Countries shall hear of the beauty of Constantia, and shall come to try their Adventures to set her at Liberty, but yet none shall perform it: neither shall it be Revealed, that she is Daughter to the King of Persia; until she be released by the valour of her own Son. The manner and means how, is as yet hidden and unrevealed: until which time. Ila shall live, and by our Directions govern the Castle, until the Enchantments be ended. Penthrasus' having received his Answer, returned home, and within few days died.  
Thus was Constantia enclosed, enjoying all the Delights her heart could desire, but nothing could comfort her, but the Remembrance of Persicles, for whose absence she lived in continual sorrow.  
Helyon kept that which he had done concerning Constantia, from the knowledge of Selia, determining never to see her again: but within short time, such discord began betwixt him and Selia, that by means thereof, the whole Court was in an uproar, and he found such disquiet with her, that then he began to hate her, abandon her company, and began exceedingly to dote with remembrance of Constantia: repenting him of the evil he had done her; and resolving again to set her at Liberty, or else to obtain of Penthrasus, to live for ever with her in the Castle; and by extraordinary means to attain her Love.. And upon a time he road thither, determining to have a sight of her: Where when he came, he found the Gate at the entrance of the Bridge fast shut, and nothing but a horn hanging thereat, fastened to a Chain, which he Wound; and with that one of the Giants came forth, with whose sight he stood affrighted till he asked him what he sought? I would (said Helyon) speak with Penthrasus. With that the Giant had him come in, and shutting fast the Entrance, brought him before Ila, who presently knew him, saying: I know the cause of thy coming, which thou shalt never obtain: For which disloyal thought, and other ignoble deeds, thou shalt never depart from hence, until the Lady thou causedst to be enclosed here, be set at Liberty: With that, not suffering him to reply, she caused him to be bound, and carried into a dark Dungeon, where he was hardly Dieted, and worse entreated.  
Ila having him in her custody, knowing that none else was privy to Constantiaes' being there, caused these Verses to be written in Letters of Gold, and hung over the outtermost Gate, and by the same, Constantiaes' Picture, whereon she had cast such a Spell, that all that beheld it, were in Love with it.  

The Verses were these,  
Within this Castle is enclosed  
The Daughter of a King:  
Whose Beauty caused a Traitor fell  
Her from her Country bring.  
Here must she bide, until a Knight  
By Sword doth set her Free:  
And by his valour end the date,  
Of crooked Destiny.  
The World shall Fame him for that deed,  
And great shall be his gain:  
Her lasting Love shall he enjoy,  
That rids her out of pain.   
When Ila had written these Verses, and placed them under the picture, she withdrew herself into the Castle, staying the coming of the first Knight for the Adventure.   

CHAP. X. What befell to Palia, how she was devoured by Wild Beasts. How the young Infant was found by a Lady, who cherished him, and afterwards named him Mont●lion.  
NOw returned we to speak of Palia, and what befell to the Infant. After she had traveled out of Arabia, resolving with a faithful heart, to execute what she had undertaken, and attained to the bounds of Assyria, she soon understood those evil News of the Armenians victory: whereby she was assured, it would be in vain to seek Persicles there: and therefore she returned towards Persia, intending to follow Constantiaes' directions to find him: but being wearied with continual travelling, she sat herself down upon a Mountain, standing in a vast and Desolate place, on the top whereof, grew a tuft of Trees that shadowed her from the heat of the Sun: where she had not long rested, but the Boy fell fast asleep, and she being very hungry, began to seek for Fruit, no other food being there to be gotten, leaving him upon the Mount. Palia, wand'ring into the Thicket by misfortune was devours of a Lion: and so the poor Infant left ready to be destroyed, but the Destinies that had allotted him to better fortune, thus preserved him. Not far off, their dwelled an ancient Knight named Cothanes, who with his Lady, the same day had been Hunting, and now she being weary of the sport, with two servants in her company, chanced to alight at the very place where the Babe lay: who by that time awaked, and missing his Nurse began to cry. The Lady hearing the noise, searched among the Trees, and presently found the Child, which she took up in her arms, commanding one of her servants to take up a bundle of clothes that lay by the same, and to 〈◊〉 his Horn, that Cothanes hearing it, might come unto them: Who according to her desire came, ask what was the matter? You have (said she) all this day Hunted after Wild beasts, and lost your labour, but I have found a richer Prize▪ yet by what misfortune left in this place I know not: With that they both viewed the Child, well noting his exceeding beauty, and sweet countenance, with great joy carrying him home,: by the way naming him Montelyon: finding in the farthel many rich jewels, and a fair Embroidered Scarf, whereby they knew him to be of no mean Birth: educating him carefully, and after he was come to knowledge, teaching him many commendable and virtuous qualities. When he came to the age of fourteen years, Cothanes taught him how to Ride and manage a Horse, taking him forth with him many times on Hunting, delighting wonderful in his forwardness. Wherein he showed such aptness, that he could not offer to teach him any thing, but he soon grew to be as perfect therein as himself. Whom we will leave to be Educated by Cothanes, and return to speak of Persicles; and what befell to him after the loss of Constantia.   

CHAP. XI. How Pisor being recovered, persuaded Persicles to crave aid of the King of Persia, against his Enemies: How he obtained the same, and carried a mighty Host into Assiria; which was there overthrown.  
AFter that Persicles had in heaviness and sorrow wandered up and down those Woods, the space of three months, and Pisor again come to his remembrance: Upon a time they both met, Pisor saluting him with great reverence. Persicles seeing he was come to his right senses again, asked him what became of Constantia? My Lord (qd he) I found her in the Shepherd's house, telling her you would presently return, but when she saw you stay so long, unawares to me, she went out of the Cottage to seek you: I soon missing her, thought to overtake her, to direct her unto the place where I l●ft you, and by misfortune tasted of that Ominous fruit. Then said Persicles, she is assuredly devoured by wild Beasts, and I shall never see her again. My misfortunes exceeding the bounds of common miseries: that I would to God I had ended myself when I was first borne, then should not both Assyria, and Persia have had such cause of discontent.  
My Lord (quoth Pisor) I cannot be persuaded that she is dead, but by some misfortune wandered out of knowledge, or carried hence by some unexpected means: Therefore I beseech you bear her loss with patience, and in the end I do not doubt but you shall hear of her safety. Thou givest me words full of comfort (said he) but thou hast no ground for them: Nor can I tell how by them to add any hope of my restless passions: for that she is lost I am sure, but that I shall never see her again, I think it impossible: being driven to so hard an exigent of extremity, that I neither know what to do, nor whose aid to implore. Thou seest another hath shut me from my Kingdom, and in my absence won my subject's heart from me. The King of Persia, hearing of the wrong done to him, will become mine Enemy, and then is there no place of refuge left for me but in this place best be fitting my misery. My Lord (said Pisor,) yet if I may be so bold as counsel you, let us go to the Persian Court, I as I am, and you in that disguise, for none but your sister Piera, being privy to your escape with Constantia, you may safely and without fear go thither, both to confer with Piera, and to crave the Persians assistance to establish you in your Kingdom.  
Persicles unwilling to leave those Woods where he was, determined to dwell for ever there: But finding no hope thereby to recover Constantia, and also being persuaded by Pisor, he condescended to go with him, and thereupon immediately departed. When they approached near to the Court, Pisor road on before, and entering the Court, he soon found Piera declaring to her the misfortune that was befallen to Persicles and Constantia: and how that he was without the Court, staying until he returned, to know whether he might with safety come to speak with her, or no? Piera then presently sent for him by Pisor, and other of her Knights, who brought him into the Court, whither he was welcomed by her, with great joy: With whom he continued sometime in private Conference. Piera counselling him to discover himself to the King of Persia, and to crave his aid against the Armenians, who would readily assist him; Whereof she told him, he needed not to doubt, for that he had ever been his Friend, nor knew not of his escape with Constantia, which none but herself and Dela were privy unto.  
Whilst they continued in this conference, Deloratus came in, and espying one in such private with his Wife in that disguise, wondered who it should be. Piera soon espied him, and leaving her Brother went to him, and told him who it was: Wherewith he embraced Persicles in his Arms, now perfectly remembering him, although grief had much altered him. After many speeches past, Deloratus, he, and Piera, went to the King of Persia, who knowing him, welcomed him, with exceeding kindness. Persicles then unfolded his Misfortunes unto him, & desired his assistance, in revenge of the wrongs the Armenians had done him. Which the King of Persia willingly yielded unto him: giving authority unto Deloratus to muster Soldiers and make provision for their expedition. The news hereof was suddenly rumoured in the Court, and many thousands of Knights unconstrained, prepared to aid Persicles, whom they honoured for his exceeding valour and courtesy; purposing to spend their lives in his Defence, that of a sudden one part of the Country was up in Arms, and a great Force was assembled, and conducted into Assyria, by Deloratus, and Persicles, and Pisor, and Osimus, and also many other Knights of exceeding valour: Of whose worthy Exploits, we will hereafter speak more at large.  
Persicles had such ill success, that after he had continued a long time in Assyria, yet he so little prevailed, that he was compelled thrice to fly back into Persia to renew his Forces. These cruel Wars continued many years, the King of Armenia, defending himself, and keeping possession of the Crown, notwithstanding the Persian Forces.  
Deloratus perceiving that the long continuance of those Wars had wasted a number of his subjects, and yet notwithstanding Persicles was so far from possession of his right, as at the first beginning of those tedious Wars, determined to give over: and therefore assembled together such as were the chiefest Rulers over the Host, to know their opinion, what further to determine. Who with a general consent, persuading him once again to renew his Forces, and if that then they did not prevail, never more to give the Onset.   

CHAP. XII. How Persicles his Army was renewed. And how Montelyon, being denied by his supposed Father, stole to the Campe. And how he preserved Persicles life. How Cothanes knew him, and discovered what he knew of his Birth. And how he received Knighthood at Persicles hand.  
NOw Persicles seeing Deloratus was ready to shrink away from him, being himself wearied with that tedious War, went likewise with resolution, either then to end his life, or ever after to abandon the company of all men, and end his days in solitariness: Deloratus therefore sent Messengers into Persia, to muster new Forces, who in short time returned, that the Persian Camp was full fourscore thousand strong. Amongst the rest, it so fortuned that Cothanes (being in Youth accounted a man of great valour, and now being somewhat grown in years, of great Experience) determined not to give his mind to sloth, being touched with grief, to hear what a number of his Countrymen were slain: therefore told his Lady what he intended: who with tears and many entreaties dissuaded him, but all could not prevail, his heart was so fully set thereon.  
Montelyon being now grown to man's estate, hearing thereof, entreated Cothanes (whom he esteemed to be his Father, and so called him) that he might go with him: but Cothanes would by no means consent thereto: the rather, for that his Lady most earnestly requested him, that if it were so that he would needs go himself, yet that he would not leave her altogether comfortless, by taking Montelyon with him. Therefore all his entreaties nothing prevailed, but of necessity he was enforced to stay. Cothanes being departed, Montelyon continued some two days exceedingly pensive, so much troubled in his thoughts, with grief to be left behind, that he refused his meat: and notwithstanding the manifold kindnesses his supposed Mother used him withal, yet he thought all things troublesome. Which desire so much prevailed with him, that furnishing himself with good store of Coin, secretly one Night he conveyed his Steed without the Castle Walls: and when all thought he had been in his Chamber, he was departed. By that time it was day he approached near the City of H●lo●os, where he stayed some three days, until he had furnished himself with Armour, which he caused a workman to frame of exceeding pure Lydian steel, bearing this Devise. His Armour Silver, interset with the forms of divers Beasts and Trees of burnished Gold. And in his Shield, a naked Man amongst a tuft of Trees: Which devise he caused to be made of purpose, to be known different from the rest.  
Having furnished himself in this sort he left the City, and journeyed toward the Persian Camp in Assyria: Where he was no sooner come, but he found the Battles joined in most cruel Fight, and a number of Soldiers on both sides slain, lying covered and besmeared in Blood: Some with their Swords fast grasped in their hands threatening: Others with a hideous noise breathing forth their latest gasps: Then in the Camp beheld he some flying, others pursuing: some standing fast in cruel Conflict: others with fierce terror slaying those that was next them: Some with hideous cries, animating their followers: Others with fear, crying retire. There did he behold both Persians and Armenians, intermingled slaughtetering each other. Wherewith he a while stood as one amazed, having never before beheld such cruel Conflicts: At last he beheld a most gallant Knight, with his Sword drawn, and all covered with blood, hurling up and down amongst the Armenians: performing admirable deeds of Chivalry, but at last encompassed with such a multitude of his Enemies, that he knew it was impossible for him to escape. Which sight, stirred up such sparks of courage and desire to succour him, that his heart urging him to more forwardness than his Steed could perform: and yet his Steed with furious pace, running as swift as might be, rushed in amongst the thickest of ●hem: At the first piercing his Lance through the bodies of two that were opposite before him: and his Steed with his vnstayed course, overthrowing others, and treading them down under his Feet: ●hen drawing his Sword, whose brightness dazzled the sight of such ●s beheld it, until he had darkened the Splendour with their purple ●●ood: mangling, slaughtering, and destroying such as withstood his passage: until he approached the Persian Knight, who without his approach, had there ended his Life: but finding himself at more liberty, by the assistance of this new-come Gallant, he again redoubled his abated Courage, joining themselves both together, performing such honoured Valour, as by their only resistance, the thronged multitudes of Armenians dispersed themselves, every one hasting to get without their reach. Now the Knight that Montelyon had rescued, was the Noble King Persicles, who seeing how valiantly this New-come Gallant had rescued him, and preserved his life, said thus unto him. Noble Knight, thy Valour hath preserved me: For which Persicles will not be ungrateful. And if thou be'st a friend to me, as thou hast already shown, second me, and I will once again try my Fortune. With that Montelyon held up his hand, in sign he gave consent. Then Persicles with speed hasted into the foremost of the Battle, and Montelyon followed, making such way, as none stood to resist them, but they died. Where they found Deloratus, Pisor, Osimus, Cothanes, and a number of Gallant Knights in combat, beset with odds, but that disadvantage was soon turned to advantage, by their approach: for there did Montelyon perform such deeds of exceeding Valour, as made the whole Persian and Armenian Hosts admire him. Then began the Persians to gather new courage to assail their enemies, continuing the skirmish with equal strength, against them. Palian the usurping K. of Assyria, thinking to have the advantage against the Persians, as in times past they had, called the chiefest Rulers to him, exhorting them to courage to resist their enemies. Upon whose exhortation, the Armenians with undaunted courage followed the battle on both sides with great eagernes, that the Persian Governors were enforced to fly to their Companies, to encourage them to resistance, only Montelyon and Persicles still kept together, making thousands of the Armenians pay their lives for tribute to their conquering Swords: Whilst they continued the fight in the forefront of the Battle, they suddenly heard a cry on the outside of the battle, with which noise, Montelyon not regarding to be counselled set spurs to his Horse, and hasted thither, where he found Deloratus, though to him unknown, in the throng of a multitude of Armenians, unhorsed, and fight on foot, so sore wounded, and against such odds, that he was ready to faint, and by force to be taken: Amongst whom, Montelyon rushed with such fury, spoiling them, that he succoured Deloratus, and having again with the help of some of his own Knightsset him on Horseback, sent him to his Tent with a sufficient Guard: and returning again towards Persicles, he espied Cothanes his Father, whom he knew by his Armour, unhorsed, and newly by force taken prisoner, but before they could convey him from thence, Montelyon began so cruel a fight, that with the loss of many of their lives, he set him at liberty. Then began the Arminians somewhat to Retire, having such a number of them slain, and finding their enemies pursue them so fiercely, that Palion perceived the Persians would that day he conquerors: yet notwithstanding calling to him two Knights, the one named Althesus, the other Petron, who were most renowned of all the Armenians, he said to them, join with me, and let us once again repel these faint hearted Persians: With that, they three with a multitude of their chiefest soldiers, kept a head together, and fronted the battle where Persicles fought, Palion knowing him, with a Lance ready couched ran at him, which lighted upon his Shield, where it burst in pieces, not once piercing the well tempered steel. Then both Pallion, Althesus, and Petron, all at once assailed him, whom Persicles resisted with exceeding v●lour, continuing so long as any Knight could possible do: But at last the odds being so great, he was driven only to defend their swift blows, that were followed with eagernes: then began he to wish for the strange Knight, that had all that day succoured him, expecting nothing but death. By this time Montelyon had rescued Cothanes, and again got him Horse and weapon, which done he left him, and even at that time that Persicles▪ wished for him, came, and espying three knights assailing him alone, aiming his sword point at Petrons' breast, who was next him, and running at him with all the force his horse could make, run the same through his body, and with the like intent, aiming the same at Palion, he ran at him, that had he not avoided his Encounter, he had either slain, or sore wounded him, but missing, he let drive at h●m with his sword with such force, that in short space he gave him many wounds. Persicles like wise having none but Althesus to resist, Combated with him bravely, who with like valour resisted him: In the end Palion finding himself so overmatcht, began to retire, which Montelyon perceiving, gave him no respite to fly.  
Then was their Battle most terrible to behold, the Persians comforted by the only valour of Montelyon, ran upon their Enemies with unresisted fury. And the Armenians seeing one of these chief Champions dead, and their General retire, were amazed: and rather ready to fly then to stand out: which animated their Foes with courage to pursue the●, even as long as the day lasted.  
Montelyon still porsued Palion, in whose Rescue many of his Knights interset themselves, and died by his Sword: and notwithstanding been withdrew himself, yet Montelyon followed him so near, that he often put him in danger of his life: until he was so far past i● amongst th●ir Troops, that he was compelled with his Sword to make his way to get out against. In which Retire, many of the Armenians, died.  
The Night now drawing nigh, whilst the Armenians sound Retray, and the Persian Generals busy in gathering together their scattered Followers,, Montelyon had time to consider what was best for him to do, and whether it were convenient to discover himself or no: at last, determining to depart in secret, he espied Persicles bore by him, who of purpose had watched him, misdoubting that which he intended, who came unto him, and said. Sir Knight, the kindness I have found in you, emboldeneth me to desire your company, and entreat you to accept of my Tent, to repose yourself in: For that I suppose you are a Stranger, and it were incovenient for you to journey after so great labour, having this day with such Honour defended me, that I account myself yours, and my life preserved by your only Valour. Therefore deny me not, that I may in some sort requite your kindness.  
Montelyon having heard Cothanes oftentimes exceedingly commend the King for Valour and courtesy, likewise having knowledge how to behave himself, as well to the meanest as to the greatest personages, being by Cothanes nobly educated, and of his own Inclination more apt to conceive, than they are able to instruct, knowing it to be the King himself, bowing his body, said: Most honoured King, I am unfit the honour you proffer me, and my deserts no way deserving the commendations you give them: therefore I beseech you, not to attribute to me more than is befitting my mean estate, but rather licence me to attend you, in all humble duty: My Life and all uttermost endeavours, being vowed to be spent in your service, and myself ready to be at your disposition. This said Persicles and he departed into the Camp, whether they were welcomed with the shouts and rejoicing of the Persian Soldiers. Deloratus hearing that applaud, came forth of his Tent to see what was the cause thereof, and espying Persicles and the strange Knight together, came unto them, they both alighting to salute him, Deloratus would by no means suffer them to depart, but entreated them to lodge in his Tent that night, which Persicles could not deny: and therefore taking Montelyon in kind sort between them, they entered the same, where he was unarmed: but when they beheld his youth, they wondered thereat, to be accompanied with such exceeding valour, both Delo●atus and Persicles using him with great kindness. Then presently the principal Commanders of the Camp, assembled themselves to their General's Tents, to know what they did determine. Amongst the rest Cothanes, who at the first entrance into the Tent, espied his son Montelyon, his head being only disarmed, and by his armour knowing it was he that had so honourably preserved his life, and defended himself: had much a do to contain himself from rejoicing: likewise Montelyon seeing him, upon his knee entreated him to pardon his boldness in coming to the Camp without his consent. Cothanes with great joy took him up, and embraced him. Persicles seeing that said to Cothanes, My friend is this thy son? My Lord said he, he is my son, and he calleth me Father, and yet I am unworthy to be father to such a son, that hath this day shown himself rather to be the son of some Heroic King. And my Lord, because his worthiness shall not be darkened with the ignoble Title of Cothanes his son. I will declare to you all that I know of him. Indeed he is not my son, but my Lady and I being one day a hunting, found him upon the top of a Mount●in swaddling clothes: which were such, as showed he was not of mean parentage, but of honourable race: his Nurse as it should seem, being distressed for want of food, was wandered from him, whose carcase and clothes we found not far off, destroyed by a Lion: since which time, with carefulness I have brought him up, esteeming him a● mine own son. This my Lord, in brief is the whole sum of all that I know of him. They all marvelled at his words, especially Montelyon was strucken into such a sudden meditation, that for a while stood like one metamorphosed, Persicles taking him by the hand, said: Although I know not what title to give you, yet borne you cannot be less then of noble blood, as may well appear by the manifest tokens of your heroic dispositions: therefore remit the care of that until hereafter, and vouchsafe to stay with us, who are now both comforted with your presence, & been preserved by your valour. My Lord (replied Montelyon) were my desire a thousand times greater than it is yet the desire I have to do you service, would surmount the same, being in the depth of inward affection, love, and duty wholly addicted, and entirely devoted to your worthiness, which no desire of reward, hope of praise, or worldly respect hath bred in me, but only the instinct of nature, that hath effectually engrafted the same in my heart: therefore I humbly desire you vouchsafe to entitle me with the honour of Knighthood: where with if I be dignified by your virtuous hand, I shall both remain with you, and endeavour to deserve the same. Persicles highly esteeming him, and kindly embracing him, told him he should that night be his bedfellow, and the next day have his desire. With many other speeches they ended that night's conference: every Ruler departing with carefulness to set the Watches.   

CHAP. XIII. How the Armenians Army with exceeding loss was discomfited.  
Early the next morning, Deloratus, Persicles, Cothanes, and all the rest of the chief Commanders of the Persian Army, were assembled, who gave order, that every battle should be planted in such sort, as if they expected a present assault, which being performed. Montelion in great triumph was brought into the field, and by Persicles invested with the order of Knighthood: which when he had received, the Soldiers gave such shouts, as made the air resound with their Echoes. The Armenians hearing the noise, could not judge what might be the cause thereof: some censuring one thing, some another. Palian fretting with exceeding vexation at the last day's discomfiture, which went the nearest his heart, for that in all the time of wars, he had not endured the like, called unto him the chiefest Knights in his Camp, which were Althesus, Golgron, Mulatus, and Lamdelyon, Knights of Honourable birth, great wisdom, and appointed valour, uttering to them his heart's grief, and his earnest desire of revenge, desiring them with all speed to counsel him which way to suppress the Persians courage, only revived with the aid the strange Knight had brought them. Amongst whom it was agreed, and generally held best to surprise them at unawares in the midst of their joy: that with all speed, and as speedily as might be they detained their Forces, and without the noise of either Drum or Fife, issued the City gates. Certain Persian Spies perceiving their intent, posted to the Camp, and certified their General thereof, who gave commandment that without making any kind of suspicion, they should continue their mirth, so that thereby the Armenians might be heartened, to their own dustruction. Montelyon with a company of Horsemen departed out of their Camp, a contrary way to that the Armenians came, with intent to get betwixt them and the City, which afterwards sorted to effect. The Armenians thinking to make a sudden slaughter of them, and nothing at all suspecting their readiness to receive them with careless haste approached the Camp, with greedy desire of conquest, running upon their Enemies. Whom they found in such orderly sort, ready to welcome them, that within an hour's space they wished themselves again within the City Walls: To recite every particular of their Conflict, and with what terror the battle continued would dull my wits with confusion. Principally, my pen shall barely recite the admirable deeds of the most honourable of both Armies. Persicles considering what just cause he had and with what equity he might challenge his right, wrongfully detained up his usurping Foe, bend his Sword point with the unrelenting Fury, to the destruction of his Enemies, pitying their deaths who died by his Sword, aiming the same rather at Palians own heart, then against them that were by constraint enforced to hazard their dearest lives. Which when he had coloured and made drunk with many of their death's blood, he at last met with Palian, whom at the first encounter he had surely bereavest of life, had not his own Steed by great misfortune stumbled at a dead body, that interrupted his steps, but notwithstanding his Sword's point by that mischance, missing his right aim, 〈◊〉 quite through his Stéeds neck, who falling, and Palian with him, both lay grovelling on the ground, ready to be trodden to death. Mulatus being next at hand, rescued Palian, and mounted him on his own Steed, whereby he lost his own life: For Persicles with both his hands fetched so full a blow at his head, that with the force thereof, his Armour yielding some scales thereof, pierced his Brain, and he died. Palian for a while continued Fight with Persicles: with every blow receiving a deep wound, until he felt himself so unable to hold out, that he must either yield, die, or retire: but even then came Golgron fortunately to his aid, who with him maintained fight against Persicles: who notwithstanding that odds, had near hand brought them both to destruction, had he not espied Deloratus and Cothanes in distress, who were unequally assailed by six valiant Knights, two of them being Althesus and Lamdelyon, unto whom he hasted, giving them succour by the death of the first he met.  
Whilst the Battle was maintained in the Forefront by the chief Commanders of both Armies, and Montelyon with his resolved Follewers, whose hearts were inspired with fiery courage, to be guarded by so valiant a guide was gotten behind them, and began such a Massacre, that multitudes of a sudden were slaughtered by his approach, whose deeds of valour amazed their senses, with such fear, and abated their courage with such terror, that like as a flock of fearful sheep, espying the approach of a devouring Lion, ran with amazed fear from his paws: Even so the Armenians fled from the destroying hands of Montelyon, filling the empty air with such dismal cries, that the noise thereof amazed the hearts of the stoutest Armenians: Palian and Golgron then turned their backs, making haste thitherwards to know the cause, Althesus and Lamdelyon did the like, whilst Deloratus and Persicles, and the rest made such havoc against the common Soldiers, that had the fight continued long, the whole Forces of the Armenian Army had been destroyed.  
Palian and Althesus met Montelyon not knowing him: but supposing it was he had made such slaughter amongst them the last day, both assailed him: who in his heart rejoiced that he had met with two such Champions to make trial of his valour continuing to brave a combat against them both, as is not to be described. By this time the cry began again on the contrary side, with such hideous noise, that Palians heart was affrighted therewith, and defended himself as if a slender youth should hold encounter against a strong Giant, till both he and Althesus were so grievously wounded that it had been a pitiful spectacle to behold. Both being driven to retire amongst their scattered Troops, and withal the haste they could, to prevent their utter overthrow, to sound a retreat, and with all speed haste unto the City, which could not be accounted a retire, but rather an absolute flight: for it was done with such haste, as if they had been all amazed, none having the power to resist: and pursued by Persicles and Montelyon, with such fury, that their own hearts relented at their own hands cruelty, which covered the earth with the dead bodies of their affrighted Foes. The day being thus ended to the terror of the one, and comfort of the other: The Persians retired as Victors, and the Armenians half mad with grief, and despair within their Walls, not minding suddenly to issue again. Persicles and Deloratus honouring Montelyon with their kind embrace, and the Soldiers applauded their valours with rejoicings. Every one according to the present occasion betook themselves to their charges spending the time in more joy and security, than erst they had done.   

CHAP. XIIII. How the Armenians sent two Knights into Armenia for more aid, who were met, and one of them taken Prisoner, and of other accidents that befell.  
Early the next morning, Palian assembled his Counsel to determine what order to take for their security: which it behoved them to do for that their Forces were utterly discouraged, and the Country Inhabitants knowing their lawful King to be living, began to revolt, and denied to aid Palian, either with men or victuals, that he was constrained only to keep himself within the City Walls, not suffering any to issue out, or daring indeed to do it, they were so strictly besieged by the Persians. When they had well considered their estates, and the misery they were likely to fall into, they concluded to send into Armenia, to certify the King, which Althesus and one Mutellus two Knights of exceeding valour undertook to perform the next night. Montelyon, being in his Tent, determining to repose himself, yet feeling no desire to sleep: calling for the Chronicles of the Wars of Antiochus King of Assyria, and spending some hours in reading that History, his Squire by his commandment being gone to Bed, about the dead time of Night, he heard the neighing of a Horse, as it seemed to him within the City: again reading and again staying to listen, his mind being somewhat troubled, being as yet in his Armour, he girded his Sword to his side, determining to walk the round, to see how diligently the Watch was kept: whom he found sleeping as sound as if they had been in their quiet Beds, marvelling much at their drowsiness, but much more at their carelessness, he went from place to place, not minding that night to sleep, but himself would watch for them all. He had not long stayed, but he espied two in Armour, with hasty (though softly steps) passing through the Camp on foot, whom be little suspected to be any other then of his own company, thinking them to be some stragglers, that seeing their fellows in dead sleep went to rob: following as closely as he could, he perceiving them to depart the Camp, but marvelling thereat, he drew nigher unto them, intending to know what they were before they departed:  
Althesus and Mutellus espying one to follow them, and seeing themselves now without the Camp, purposed to lay hold on him, with purpose to force him to declare what the Persians intended to do: that turning back to him, Althesus offered to lay hold on him. Soft quoth Montelyon, let me first know what you are? We are enemies unto thee said Althesus, and therefore yield. Tell me quoth he, your names? Althesus knowing himself to be of great valour, and therefore not to be unknown of any. Besides, little thinking he would have resisted them, told him his name was Althesus. Then I defy thee quoth Montelyon, for I am thine Enemy, and will rather die then yield to thee. With that Althesus drew his Sword, and struck at him. Montelyon did the like to defend himself: and afterwards they offended him so much, that both he and Mutellus had enough to do to save their own stakes and lives.  
Althesus seeing his valour, desired to know his name, which Montelyon told him. Althesus was much disquieted therewith: and seeing his companion fallen and faint with effusion of blood, he thus said: Knight, at this time I cannot stay to end the combat, for by hazarding myself, I should endanger the lives of many: therefore farewell until more convenient time to meet thee again. With that he turned his back, and Montelyon stooped to give his conquered adversary breath: which revived Mutellus: but seeing Althesus gone, his heart was ready to die with grief. Montelyon had him be of comfort, for his intent was to use him honourably; with that helping him up, he led him to his Tent, calling up his Squire to attend him, and disarm him, he went presently to Persicles.  
The next day Montelyon caused Mutellus to be carried before the General, where he declared the cause of their departure towards Armenia, which Persicles was glad to hear off: that by this foreknowledge he might prevent the purposed intent of his enemies: but most of all he rejoiced and commended Montelyon for this noble act. Which had they not been discovered, might have brought the whole Camp into great distress: by this means every way growing into such love, and admiration of his valour, virtue and courtesy, that they esteemed their only defence and felicity consisted in his safety: that wheresoever he went, the eyes of multitudes awaited him, as being delighted to behold him. Mutellus desired Persicles to appoint his ransom, but he committed that to Montelyon, who after he had honourably feasted him, sent him ransomless to the City. Mutellus soon got entrance, and declared what misfortune had befallen him and Althesus, which turned their conceived hope of comfort into despair, which had overcome them with fear, had not some little hope of Althesus escape revived them.  
Thus remained they many days within the City, so hardly besieged, that they were out of all hope in getting Victuals, but were driven to content themselves with spare diet, scantling out every soldier and Inhabitant their allowance. Which they continued likewise so long, expecting to hear from Armenia, that being frustrated, they expected nothing but miserable famine: which caused them late in the night, to assemble all their old, weak and impotent men, unable to serve, and all Women and Children, except some few of account, and turned them out of the City, to the number of threescore thousand, whose distressed estate Persicles pitied, causing them to have sufficient food, themselves building Cabins to defend them from the weather.  
Persicles seeing the miserable estate his own Country was in, and to what extremity his Subjects were brought; and by this also knowing that Palian was not able long to endure, but that both he and all those within the City, were ready to be famished, of whom many were Assyrians; that were constrained to that subjection, whose estate he pitied, being unwilling to be guilty of their destruction by the advice and counsel of those he most esteemed, but principally of Deloratus and Montelyon, he sent a Herald unto Palian with this message; that although he did unjustly usurp his Crown and many other ways done him intolerable injuries, yet pitying the miserable estate he was like to bring the Citizens into by his cruelty, he made h●m this proffer, that notwithstanding he might work sufficient revenge by his death, whose life was now in his mercy, he should without interruption, with all his Armenians, have free liberty to depart out of Assyria. The Herald with this message, went unto the City, declaring the cause of his coming. Palian assembled his Counsel and returned this answer. That what he held, was his right by conquest, and that would hold: scorning he should send any such proffer to him, that was well able to defend himself, and as little regarded his courteous proffer as his malice: Wishing him, not to stay long, lest his Fathers coming inflicted a greater punishment upon him than he could eschew. Persicles was exceedingly vexed with his disdainful reply, fearing indeed, that if the King's Forces were once come, it would be a great cause to lengthen the Wars, which he earnestly desired might have an end, that thereby he might have respite to travel in search of Constantia, for whom his heart endured exceeding torments, that being thus disquieted in his thoughts, and desirous of ease to his restless passions, one day amongst many that he passed over with pensiveness, he got himself into a solitary place, and there in sad silence meditated on his misfortune.  
Montelyon by chance troubled with remembrance of his unknown estate, chose the very place for his private meditations, wherein Persicles was already shrouded, and suddenly espying him, began to withdraw himself, until Persicles desired him to stay, uttering these speeches. Worthy Knight, I perceive some inward care hath made you withdraw yourself from me, but impart your discontent to me: if not, yet hear mine, for I have long desired to impart them unto one, on whose fidelity I might repose myself, and you are the man I have elected, having had so sufficient trial of your courtesy and friendship, that without doubting I durst commit myself to your secrecy, for your aid may, as heretofore it hath preserved me.  
My Lord, replied Montelyon, I account myself only fortunate, in your love, and my heart acknowledgeth my everlasting bounden duty to none so much as to your Majesty, which bindeth me in all duty to become your vassal, being more ready to venture my life and uttermost endeavours in your service then you can imagine: Therefore good my Lord, fear not to impose any task upon me, for by your imploring me I shall account myself only blest. I thank you good Friend (quoth ●e) and if ever fortune favour me again, I will requite this kindness, though now I am plunged in the depth of ill luck, being as you see deprived of my Kingdom by the Rebellion of my own subjects, and the Tyranny of an ill neighbour the King of Armenia: the brief discourse whereof is this. My Father when he lived, matched my sister Piera in marriage with this worthy Knight Deloratus, sending me unto P●●sia with her, who before my return died, whilst I was there I chanced to fix mine eyes on the Beauty of Constantia, daughter to the Persian King, which by reason of my sudden departure, I could not give her knowledge, having no other comfort but my sister Piera, to whom I bewrayed the secrets of my heart, departing with her promise of assistance whilst I went into Assyria to establish my Kingdom, Prince Helion of Arabia obtained the King of Persia his consent to marry Constantia. Which news Piera sent me, I being much troubled therewith, after I had refelled my old enemy the King of Armenia in a battle, I left the government of my Kingdom to two of my Noble men, and departed in the habit of a Palmer into Persia, where within short space I found such means by my sister's friendship, that I was in that habit without suspicion in Pieraes' chamber, and thereby had conference with Constantia, and attained her consent, nothing remaining, but only means how we should escape, which afterwards we effected, and traveled together until we came to a Shepherd's house, where we were kindly welcomed, contracting a solemn, marriage betwixt ourselves, because we durst not be known the contrary, where we lived some days in quiet: In the mean time the King of Persia caused diligent search to be made, and it was Pisors chance to find us, who kept our counsel, and was by me sent into Assyria, to fetch some of my own Knights to attend me home, where he found my Nobles at strife: and the King of Armenia taking opportunity, with a mighty band of Soldiers, slew most of my part, the rest joining with him, until he had ceased my Crown.  
Pisor with this heavy news returned to me, being unwilling to give me knowledge thereof, which overcame my heart with such grief, that seeking in a solitary place, I wandered so far that I could not return to the Shepherd's house the same night.  
Constantia missing me, likewise stole from the Cottage to seek me but directing her steps a contrary way, or meeting with some misfortune that slew her, I never heard of her since. Pisor, he likewise went forth to seek us, and unwillingly tasted of an unfortunate fruit, that infused a sleepiness upon him for four and twenty hours: but notwithstanding his and my most earnest search, we could never find her, nor I fear never shall. But if I could recure this evil done me by my Foes, I would then spend the rest of my days in her search. Having ended her speech, his heart was so much overcome with grief, that he had much ado to with hold his eyes from tears.  
Montelyon was oppressed with no less grief than he, whose heart felt more inward disquiet then a stranger could have done, in silent sadness seeming to impart with his sorrows: but not abide to counsel him which way to recure them. That at last by reason the necessity of the time afforded little respite, they were constrained to depart.   

CHAP. XV. How Montelyon by a strange and dangerous adventure, won the City, and took Palian prisoner.  
MOntelyon that evening elected out of his own Followers twenty Knights, such as he esteemed most valiant, telling them he had a matter of great danger and secrecy to complete, which might be a means to establish Persicles in his Kingdom, if they would faithfully join with him, Which they steadfastly vowed to accomplish, and to follow him, although it were even to their deaths. Arm you then, quoth he, in Armenian Armour, of which you have choice, and come to me at midnight.  
This being performed, and the Knights come, Montelyon with them departed through the Camp unto the City Gates, where Montelyon knocked, but scarce so low that the Porter could hear him, who yet notwithstanding, coming to the Battlements, demanded who it was? I am said Montelyon, Althetus, and other Armenians, as thou mayst know by our Armour, and bring good news: therefore open the Gates lest by the delay we be betrayed for we are pursued. The Porter being out of all doubt, and hasty to succour them, unbolted the Gates. Montelyon was no sooner entered, but he flew the Porter, entering the Lodge, and apprehending the watch, who lay sleeping, and slaying most of them before they awaked: One of them submitting himself, thus said. I am an Assyrian spare my life, and if you be friends to Persicles, I will give you such directions, as you may surprise the City, and subdue Palian.  
Montelyon said, in so doing thou shalt be honour of thy King and purchase thy own liberty. After that they had put the rest to the Sword, the Assyrian directed them to the Palace, and by so secret away that he brought them even within the compass of the Castle, to the very place whereas the Guard was. Montelyon then thus said to his followers. My companions: let not fear now possess your hearts, but by this exploit win honour for ever. Then by the Assyrians direction, they divided themselves into two parts, the one to the foremost entrance, and the other by a By-way. Montelyon like wise knocked, and one of the Guard misdoubting no mischief, opened the door, whereinto Montelyon rushed with his sword drawn, not speaking a word, slaying the first, the next, and all that came within his compass: The Guardiants were so amazed therewith, that they were confounded in their senses, their courages for lack of time to consider, abated and their hands which fear-trembling not able to draw their Swords, and when they were drawn, not knowing whom to offend, for Montelyon and his Knights were so like them in Armour, and so intermingled amongst them, that they knew not whether they struck their own fellows or no not knowing one from the other: by which means Montelyon and his Knights who by a privy token knew each other, made such a slaughter amongst them, that all the flood swom with their blood. Some of them made means to fly by the back door, but even then, as they stepped out, they met death, he that followed, not knowing him that went before to be slain, that had a thousand come that way, they had one by one met with destruction, that in the end, by Montelyons valour there was not one left alive, nor any escaped. And this complete was performed with such expedition in the dead time of the night, that the rumour thereof came not to the hearing of any. That within short space and little labour, Montelyon surprised Palian even in his Bed, who seeing one in Armour besmeared with blood, with his sword ready drawn, being exceedingly affrighted, asked what he was? I am qd Montelyon, thine enemy, and Persicles friend▪ Thou art a villain and a Traitor, qd he, and with that he called to his Guard, crying out treason, treason, I am betrayed help, help. Thou criest in vain qd Montelyon, for there is none here to help thee: for by this hand thy Guard are slain, and thou shalt follow them the same way to death, unless thou ask mercy; For my hands can hardly abstain from working vengeance on thy traitorous head, thou hast deserved to be punished with inexorable torments. Montelyon had scarce ended those words, but the rumoring Echo of an exceeding outcry, solicited his ears, the occasion was this. After Montelyon was departed his Tent, his Squire following him, and seeing him enter the City with so few in his Company, ran back with all speed, and certified Persicles what he had seen, who fearing lest that valorous attempt might endanger his life, and hearing that he had gotten entrance into the City, with all the haste he could armed himself, and calling up Deloratus, Pisor, Cothanes and Osimus, and all the rest of his chief Commanders of the Army, with the choice of their several Bands, to the number of ten thousand, they soon marched to the City gates, which they found wide open, and being entered, and by several companies dispersed into every corner of the Streets, on a sudden on every side they gave the Alarm, which rung through the City and ears of the Armenians with such terror, that like men bereft of their Senses, they ran up and down to their destruction. There did Deloratus fill his hands with slaughter, and Pisor with cruelty revenged his withholden liberty: There did Cothanes, Osimus, and many thousands, colour pale Death in purple Robes. There did Persicles triumph over his Foes, his conquering Sword working their deaths, that the City Channels ran with gore blood, and their hasty steps were intercepted by the heaps of breathless foes: then began such an outcry, as would have affrighted the senses of the most valiant: Did men hiding their heads in secret places of their Houses, the women with their children crying, wring their hands, and making exceeding lamentation: the Soldiers ready to destroy one another, not knowing whom to offend, being ignorant in the original of the Stratagem. The Counsellors and such as sat in Seat of judgement, with speedy steps conveying themselves to the Castle, wherein Palian was, where at their Entrance they saw such sad Spectacles of horror, and dreadful was already entered, laying open passage to death. Where Montelyons Followers though but few, soon laid hands on them, slaying those that resisted, and enclosing them that yielded, within a strong Tower.  
Montelyon by this time had haled Palian from forth his Chamber and bound him hand and foot, brought him out of the Castle, enclosing him in a strong jail, where many malefactors was imprisoned, himself for safety becoming his jailor. And now having intelligence that Persicles was entered the City, he bent his steps to find him out: by the way destroying the Armenians, who indeed took him to be one of their own company by his Armour: at last he came to the Abbey, wherein the greatest part of the Armenian Soldiers lay, in a large field, encompassed within the wall, whereinto Persicles with some three thousand Soldiers were before entered, making such slaughter as would have terrified the heart of any beholder.  
Montelyon being alone, thought now or never to make trial of his Valour: though being on foot, yet rushing amongst the thickest of the Armenians, who seeing him in that Armour, rather thought he had been of their Commanders, than an Enemy: who frantic with affright: slaughtered them, because they were slow to slay their enemies; which when he perceived, he cried unto them, Villains, traitors, cowards, why eat you me? I am your Enemy, a Persian, and come to destroy you. Notwithstanding his speeches, by reason they had no respite to consider what to do, they still fled from him, not so much with thought of what he was, as with fear to come near him: for none came within his compass, but he died, so that where he fought, their Death triumphed: and by reason of their flight, his hasty blows only hurt the Wind, for sometimes, they were spent in vain. Persicles and Deloratus being nigh, stood and beheld him with admiration, wondering who it was, that in their judgement with such fury fought against himself: until he espied them, by his speeches giving them knowledge what he was, having found him they desired to find, after short salutations, they followed their enemies with cruel destruction: the bright day disclosing that night's bloody act, which appeared before them with such a grim aspect, as that it made terror seem most terrible, so that before many hours of the day were spent, the Armenians were utterly destroyed, and amongst them many Assyrians unknown to be Africans were also slaughtered. Persicles gave strict commandment to his soldiers, so make diligent search the City throughout, and if they found an Armenian, to put him to the Sword, not suffering one to escape nor live. Which done, he commanded the dead Carcases in Carts to be carried out of the City, which were so many that with much ado they could perform in a day's labour. Which done, he gave the spoil of the Armenians Tents and Houses unto the Persian Soldiers, and also gave commandment, that the women, children, old men, had impotent people, should be brought into the City and every one possess his own house, wherein he dwelled before. This being performed for that day, order being taken for the wounded, the soldiers enriched with spoil, the Citizens in quiet in their houses, diligent watch set at each gate, and a strong guard without in the Tents, for that it drew to night, and their labour required ease, after much joy, they betook themselves to their rest.  
Early the next morning they forsook their Pavilions, first appointing certain scouts to watch about the borders of the Country for the approach of the King of Armenia, which as they suspected would be very shortly: for it was now two months since Althesus departed.  
By that time the day was aged the space of three hours, the inhabitants of Assyria that had lived under the subjection and tyranny of the Armenians, hearing of Palians overthrow, and being assured of Persicles safety, which before that, their doubtful hearts would not believe, came by great multitudes to submit themselves unto their lawful King: who rejoicing thereat, commanded them in sign of their obedience, to arm themselves, and return to their own dwellings, and to destroy all the Armenians that inhabited the Land of Assyria, not suffering neither man, woman or child to live. It was a wonder to behold, with what greediness the heady multitudes bend themselves to their Enemy's destruction, every one thinking to be foremost, and he that was last, yet thinking himself happy that he could grasp a Sword, to seek his own liberty. Which they effected within three days, that there was not any of the Armenian Progeny left: for if they chanced to find an Assyrian woman married to an Armenian woman, both she and all her Children died. And if they found a Woman with child, or having any children that she could not show an Assyrian was the Father of them, they had all of them died.  
In the mean while, all those that were Prisoners, were brought forth. Persicles by the whole consent of all his Nobles, People and Counsel, appointing them to die, only Palian excepted, who like wise had that day abode a shameful death, if he had not been a King's son, being only committed to safe custody, where he was honourably used.  
These tragical Stratagems overpast, and all things in security, notwithstanding the beauty of the Land was destroyed by the Armenians, yet now the Nobles and Peers of the land, that for a long time durst not look over the Castle Walls, assembled themselves unto their King, making all preparation they could for his more honourable welcome: the Bells rung for joy, and the people with exceeding rejoicings applauded his victory. Within few days Persicles was with great royalty twice crowned King of Assyria, and Montelyon honoured with such exceeding commendation as his worthiness deserved. Every one (as of right they should) attributed that honoured victory to his valour. All men growing into deep affection towards him, and with rejoicing manifest their love.   

CHAP. XVI. Of the King of Armenia's arrival with a new Army. How Montelyon set Palian at liberty, and of a Peace that was concluded.  
Certain of the Spies had knowledge of the approach of the King of Armenia, and brought news thereof unto the Court, which stirred up a new disquiet amongst them, for than they began on all sides to arm themselves a fresh: but that haste was soon stayed, by the arrival of certain Ambassadors from the King of Armenia, who delivered their message in these words. Persicles of Assyria, the mighty King of Armenia commandeth thee to deliver his son Palian in safety, whom he vnderstandeth thou hast taken prisoner. Withal he requireth restitution to be made o● the Crown and Kingdom of Assyria, which by right of ancient inheritance i● his: otherwise he will bring so puissant and invincible an Army against thee, that shall waste and consume, this ● and, not leaving City, Town nor house undestroyed by fire: he will make the Inhabitants perpetual bondslaves, and he will cause thee to sly, or abiding his coming, he will take▪ thee captive, and lead thee into Armenia, where thou shalt remain his vassal. This is the sum of that he requireth, therefore let us have answer.  
I will not study said Persicles, what to say, but thus say to him. His son is my prisoner, and I will detain him: as for his threats I fear them not, utterly denying his false title to my Crown, which in my absence he seized upon, not by valour, but treachery, And tell him moreover, that I demand restitution for the wrong he hath done me and my Country, which if he deny, nothing shall make me satisfaction but his son's death. And tell him thus, let him with haste return, lest my fury overtake him, and so he feel the mischief he intendeth to me, for I mean to meet him presently, and work such destruction among his Soldiers, as shall cause them to seek his death for betraying them into his hands. Persicles spoke these words with such fury, as made the Ambassadors assuredly believe he meant it, that with this answer they departed. The King of Armenia little thinking to receive such an answer, but rather performance of his demand: was so enraged, that he commanded his Soldiers to march towards the City, vowing to redeem his son, or be taken prisoner himself. Persicles likewise had collected a mighty band of Persians and Assyrians to meet him, that it was likely this would prove the hottest battle that ever was fought in that part of the world.  
In the mean time Palian was brought before Persicles, who was seated upon the Kingly throne in great Majesty, thus saying to Palian: what canst thou allege to excuse thyself from death, having rightly deserved the same? Thou knowest that it now resteth in my power to set thee free, or put thee to death: which the just Heavens have inflicted upon thee as a due punishment for thy tyranny▪ 〈…〉  
Palian made this reply, I am a King as absolute as thyself: therefore I know thou darest not put me to death: which if thou shouldest presume to attempt▪ know that the King of Armenia is hard at thy elbow to revenge the same, whose power thou canst not escape. Therefore I defy thee, and dare thee to do the same: for I know thee to be of so cowardly a disposition, that if thou once comest within my Father's sight, thou wilt run away. The people standing by, hearing him utter such opprobrious words, cried out, Let him die, let him die. It was long before the multitude could be appeased, but at last Persicles thus said, standing up in a great rage: Traitor, darest thou utter these words in my presence: Thou shalt die the death, not all the world shall redeem thee. With that he commanded his guard to hew him in pieces; with that they began to wound him, but Montelyon stepping betwixt them humbling himself upon his knee, thus said:  
Noble King, vouchsafe to hear me speak, and without offence, let me claim my right. This Knight is my prisoner, therefore to put him to death without my consent, were to do me wrong; yet although I speak this, pardon me, I challenge not any thing to contradict your will; but I humbly desire your Majesty to grant me this favour, that as I took him, so I may dispose of him.  
Persicles with great haste rose from his seat, and embraced Montelyon, saying: Were it my Kingdom, my life, or any thing that I esteemed more than both, that you required, I would for ever curse my heart, if it should deny it you; For you have done me so much good, and my debt is to you so great, as if I live a thousand years, I shall never pay; therefore I give him freely unto you, and his life withal. I humbly thank your Majesty, replied Montelyon, with that he took Palian by the hand, and after humble reverence done, he departed, to whom being alone, he uttered these speeches. Noble Prince of Armenia, not expecting reward, nor fearing threats, I here give you liberty. Then did he desire him to make choice of his horse and armour, where with he armed himself, and so road discourteously away, his stout heart not suffering him to give Montelyon thanks. And being come to the Camp, humbling himself unto his Father, and he embracing him, thus said: My dear Son, welcome, than strutting up and down, said: I thought that dastard Persicles durst not detain thee; for if he had, his life had paid thy ransom, and shall do yet for detaining thee: by Jupiter this night will I fire the City about his ears, because I know that the coward dares not come forth to meet me.  
Palians heart hearing his Father thus boasting, and considering how unlikely it was he could perform it, with such a sudden passion of deep consideration, changed with a sudden alteration, contrary to his former disposition, calling to remembrance how lately he was in danger of death, the great power Persicles had about him, the late slaughter he had committed against his Soldiers, the courtesy of Montelyon, but most of all his ingratitude to him, that had freely given him his life, thus said:  
My most noble Father, not the fear of your forces, nor Persicles his cowardice (for by his doom I had died) hath set me at liberty, but the courtesy of a noble Knight that took me prisoner: who when Persicles had appointed my death, and the Executioners were seizing upon me, challenged me to be his Prisoner, honourably armed me, and courteously let me go. Therefore I beseech you withdraw your Forces, and offer no more wrong to Persicles, who never offended you, the Kingdom of Armenia is as good as the Kingdom Assyria, and better: and it is better to enjoy that with quiet, then both that and this with discontent. If not for that, yet for this, I humbly entreat you to conclude a Peace with Persicles, for your own safety, for his power is too mighty to be subdued by the small Forces you have brought. He is now allied to the Persian, who is not yet your Enemy, but wholly your Friend; but if these Wars continue long, he will prove your mortal Foe; For if you go forwards I must stay behind; for it were a great dishonour for me to fight against him that hath so honourably, courteously, and liberally given me my life: If you should be overcome, how much would it endanger your life, and if your life were in danger, do you think you could escape? Besides, I will rather submit myself into the hands of your Enemies or shed my own blood before your face, then live to see so dismal a day as that will prove; therefore I humbly desire you to conclude a Peace.  
The King heard out his Speeches with silent vexation, being so inwardly enraged, and with such desire thirsting after revenge, that his heart was ready to burst with swelling ma●●●e: but at last being more mollified with despair of Victory, then of yielding to his Son's request, he said: Let it be as you will have it, for this time you shall over rule me.  
Then Palian thus said, My Noble Father, I know to conclude this peace will turn to our everlasting good▪ and your ow● content: Persicles to honourable, and never offending you. And I know will honourably embrace this peace: therefore I desire you, let it be concluded with your free consent.  
With that he gave his consent, willing him to conclude what he thought good, and he would ratify it. Palian then mounting himself, presently departed towards the City, but ere he came there, he met with Persicles mighty band of Soldiers, and desiring to speak with Montelyon, he kindly embraced him, yielding unto him so many hearty thanks with such courtesy, love, affection, and earnest vows for preserving his life, as Montelyon wondered at that sudden alteration in him, that before was so rude and discourteous, most kindly welcomming him. Then did Palian unfold the cause of his coming, with such earnestness entreating Montelyon to join with him to conclude that peace, that he promised his assistance, and went with him to Persicles.  
Palian delivered his message with humble reverence, and Pet●icles with as much courtesy received it. And so effectually was this wrought, that the Peace accepted, and both the Army's meeting, in stead of blows, embraced each other: Then did the King of Armenia and Persicles salute each other: First, in strange sort, but afterwards with more familiarity. After many speeches of both sides, Persicles accusing him of wrongs, and be alleging the contrary, that notwithstanding Palian labouring earnestly to conclude the peace, yet the battle was like to join, and often by iterating hot speeches they both grew to exceeding rage, which again by Palians and Montelyons good persuasions was assuaged: Growing to this Conclusion, a Peace was ratified for two years, in which time Ambassadors should be sent to the King of Persia, and Macedonia, to entreat their royal assistance to make an end of this controversy, Persicles heart could hardly endure to yield to his foe any further, or abstain himself from present revenge, or appoint his rightful Estate to be determined by the doubtful case of arbitrement, in his heart scorning the Armenians should have so much scope limited, as though he had any interest at all in his Kingdom, but rather, that he should then either absolutely win all, or lose all: but regarding how much he had troubled Deloratus and the Persians, who now desired to return home into their own Country, but most of all, himself desirous to travel in search of his dear Constantia, from whom he had been long absent: For whose sake he would have lost his life, Kingdom and Liberty: whose absence was a continual grief to his Conscience, and a restless torment to his heart: for whom he had endured many thousand broken steps, utterly despairing of finding her, but that, nor length of time, nor other ambiguity could cause his heart believe, that he should find her, and that she was living: therefore he constrained his royal heart to yield to any thing.  
And having taken the King of Armenia's Oath, not to interrupt him in his Kingdom, until the time prefixed, they parted, Persicles to the City, and the King with his Army into Armenia. Palians heart was linked in such loving admirations of Montelyons virtues, that he humbly entreated his Father's leave to stay in Assyria to bear him company, but he denied him, reproving him greatly, and with bitter terms checking him: but notwithstanding, within few days in disguise he departed. The King would have sent after to stay him, but that he was earnestly entreated to the contrary by his Nobles.  
Palian being kindly welcomed of Montelyon, disclosed the cause of his departure from his Father, only with no other intent, but to enjoy his company, and by show of duty to do Persicles Service: which proceeded not of any coloured or imaginary dissimulation, but from the depth of a constant resolution. Such a sudden Metamorphosis had the view of Montelyons virtues, and his Father's tyranny wrought in him, that he admired the one, and abhorred the other. Of which he gave such manifest tokens, that Persicles had no cause to misdoubt him, nor Montelyon to refuse his familiarity.   

CHAP. XVII. How after the Peace concluded, Persicles left the Government of Assyria unto Pisor, determining himself to travel in search of Constantia. How they arrived in Persia. Of their honourable entertainment, and of other contrarious accidents in Love that befell in their Persian Court.  
AFter all these troubles were overpast, the Persian Soldiers richly sent home into Persia, and Persicles had established his kingdom, leaving the same to the government of Pisor, he determined to travel in search of Constantia, making the occasion of his departure, to be to accompany Deloratus into Persia, none but Pisor and Montelyon knowing the contrary.  
By the way as they went Cothanes desired them to vouchsafe to visit his Habitation, which the rather they did, to see the robes that were found about Montelyon. They were honourably welcomed thither, and royally feasted. Cothanes Lady bringing forth the packet, which they opened and well viewed, neither Deloratus nor Persicles knowing any of them, for they were such as Constantia had in Arabia. Amongst the rest, there was a jewel of exceeding beauty and richness, which Montelyon in the presence of them all put about his neck, vowing never to part with it until he had found out his Parents.  
Afterwards they departed, Montelyon leaving Cothanes and his Foster-mother, bewailing his departure with abundance of tears. Within few days they arrived in Persia, the King sending out Troops of gallant Knights to attend them, the States, Nobles, and Peers of the Land in rich attire to entertain them, and himself with the Queen, Piera and Lanula his eldest Daughter with a number of other gallant Ladies forsaking the Court to meet them. The Citizens likewise hearing of their approach, prepared to entertain them with delightful shows, the Knights met them some two miles from the City, welcomming Deloratus with reverence, and the other three Knights with courtesy. Next the Nobleses embraced them, and at the City gates they saw the King with his royal assembly staying their coming, unto whom Deloratus kneeled, whilst they with tears welcomed his safe return, and whilst he embraced Piera, and his sister Lanula, the King and Queen welcomed Persicles: And when he had left them to speak to Piera, they demanded of Deloratus who those strange Knights were. The one of them (quoth he) is our late reconciled friend Palian, and the other is the most valiant Knight Montelyon, that by his valour hath both preserved our lives, confounded his Enemies, and won himself immortal honour. The King of Persia had Palian welcome into Persia, he likewise embraced Montelyon, who with humble reverence kneeled at his feet.  
All that there beheld him, admired that one of such young years should be endued with such honoured Chivalry; especially the Ladies with their nice eyes, surueighed each part of his perfect lineaments, which they found to be most exquisite, judging none like him in comeliness but Persicles. All tedious saluta●ions being overpast, until they came to the Court, entering with such royalty, as it drove an admiration to the beholders eyes, there might one have beheld the people with greedy desire by multitudes thronging to behold them: but especially the White Knight, every one ask which was he, that he himself might hear them, which oftentimes made the blood revive in his cheeks, with such a blush, that it might easily have been discerned. To rehearse every particular would be over tedious, and to stay long in recital of their Royal entertainment, Feasts, speeches, and welcomes, would detain you from the hearing of Constantias misfortune, for such entertainment there was, and every thing performed with such royalty, as might have beséemed the greatest Monarch of the world.  
After Supper, the time of rest being come, the aged King and Queen bad goodnight to their Ghosts, and every one betook themselves to their several Lodgings, remitting all conference until the next day's opportunity.  
Persicles being alone, spent most part of that night's rest in studying which way to journey in search of Constantia, Montelyon in consideration of his unknown Parents, Palian surfeiting in love with Praxentia. She in commendation of Montelyon, Deloratus in pleasure with Piera, and the old King and Queen in joyful remembrance of all their safety, every one possessed with a several conceit, until that slumbering sleep overcome their sense.  
Early the next morning they forsook their Beds, Persicles and Deloratus in conference with the King and Queen, and Piera in the hearing of Praxentia, and divers other Ladies, rehearsing the wars in Assyria, and the manner of their victory, Montelyon in company of Palian, commended the royalty of the Persians Court, and the beauty of the Ladies. Which speech they entered into by reason of Palian, whose heart could not choose but utter his inward thoughts, which had entertained a furfeiting view to Praxentiaes' beauty, which was so exquisite, as it might have entangled the senses of any man, with their beauteous object: Only Montelyon rested as free from, as one that never thought of love, having his senses so fully possessed with desire to find his Parents, and search for Constantia, that no other thought could enter his breast. But such a contrariety had blind Fortune wrought amongst them, that every one desired a contrary thing, for Palian doted not so much on Praxentias', as she did on Montelyon, and he was so far from thinking such a thought, that it was in vain for her to hope: Palian seeking opportunity to give her knowledge thereof, and she expecting when Montelyon should proffer love to her: and he on the other side, seeking means to hasten his departure, which he would instanly have done, but that he could not so soon seek to leave the King of Persia, nor his sister: but notwithstanding the King of Persia requested him to stay a month, which he could by no means deny, Palian was glad of this, and Praxentia was not sorry, only Montelyon thought the time would be too tedious, because his affections were wholly bend on his journey.   

CHAP. XVIII. How Praxentia sent her Nurse to Montelyon with a message, the Nurse took Palian for Montelyon, and to him discovered her secrets.  
PAlian devised by all means he could to have conference with Praxentia, refusing rest, food, and company, to study thereon: oftentimes enjoying her company, but not the opportunity he expected, surfeiting with beholding her beauty, and tying himself faster in the snares of love, and finding no hope of comfort. But on a day it thus fell out. Praxentia desiring ease, sent a Damozell to an old Lady, named Lanula, willing her to come and speak with her, who instantly came, and being alone Praxentia, having this conference. Lanula (quoth she) I have occasion to your assistance, in a matter of great secrests, which I have refused to impart to any but yourself, for the good opinion I have of you, wherein you only may do me pleasure, and everlastingly bind me to requite the same. The old Lady was so forward of herself, that without further entreating we swore by many Dates she would faithfully execute whatsoever she desired, were the matter never so great, yea though she hazarded her own life thereby, I have no reason to mistrust you, quoth she, yet I cannot but fear to tell it, and blush at the rehearsal thereof, Lady, quoth she, will you pardon me, if I tell you what it is: is it not love: Yes, quoth she, it is so, I am in love, but I fear I am not beloved, and him I love, so honourable a Knight as the world yieldeth not his like: but being a stranger and unknown. I know he dareth not tell me what he loveth because my Father will never consent thereto: notwithstanding I could be contented with his estate, were it never so mean, might I enjoy him, I have often been in his company, showing myself desirous thereof, which any but himself might perceive: but I spent that labour in vain, and shall do still, unless you work some means in my behalf. Let me know his name (quoth Lanula) and befor● many hours been past, I will by some means or other have conference with him. He is the strange Knight Montelyon, say what thou wilt to him, without impeaching my modesty, and I care not: for not being by, I shall not blush, neither care I to hazard any thing. For if he once go from hence I shall never see him again. As she had spoken that word she saw him walking alone towards the farther end of the Garden, at the entrance into a grove. Yonder he is, quoth Praxentia, Lanula told her, she would even then speak, and to that intent with haste she went down the stairs. Montelyon being come to the farther end of the garden, espied Palian lying upon a bank either sleeping, or in a deep study, passing by him unseen, for that he desired no company, entering the Grove. Lanula likewise seeking him, espied Palian, not knowing either, saluted him in stead of Montelyon, saying, Sir Knight, to you I think I have a matter of importance to discover if your name be Montelyon? Palian answered not, but with courtesy had her say on, There is a Lady of great renown in this Court that beareth you deep affection, who committed her counsels to me but with no intent I should disclose them, yet I pitying her grief, whom I am bound in all duty to pleasure, and withal wishing your preferment, am thus bold to intercept your meditation: hoping that this news cannot be but gratefully accepted, I heartily thank you (qd he) assuring you that I am every way as deeply in love as any, but with one so far my better, that fear to offend, maketh me silent: therefore I pray let me know her name. It is Praxentia qd she. And to her said he, I owe my life, love, affections, and liberty. Sir (qd she) I am glad hereof, and if you will follow my directions, I will work to effectually, that you shall enjoy her love, whosoever saith the contrary. I will be wholly ruled by you (qd he) neither will I refuse any attempt to attain the same: therefore I pray you tell me where I may find you, and soon in the evening I will repair to you. My name is Lanula, quoth she, and you shall have me in the Lodgings over the Postern in the private Garden. With that she departed, leaving him in a deep meditation, what to do to enjoy her love, and how to do it without dishonour to himself, and injury to Montelyon, but that he thought impossible: entering into these meditations, how contrary is my hap to all good success, that maketh me hazard my honour and to adventure such a task as may bring me to perpetual infamy? How often already hath my life been hazarded by Montelyons hand? and yet I like a frantic ma●, forsake my friends to follow him. Could any thing have fallen out more miserable, then for me to dote on her, that loveth another, and he the only man that hath always prevented my good fortune? Shall I then cherish this love, or root it out of my heart, as a poison that will infect my Soul, for the King of Persia will never yield his consent. And that which is worse, she will never love him she hateth. I will therefore leave off, and sal●e the wound before it be past recovery: and rather abandon this Court, my Life, Friends, and Country, then sue for love in another man's name. Revolving a thousand of these contrarious thoughts, at length he espied Montelyon coming back from the Grove, whom he saluted in this sort. Sir Knight, as I lay slumbering on this Bank, my senses were greatly troubled with your remembrance, & me thought an ancient Lady taking me for you, told me, that a Lady of great Dignity did love me exceedingly, & that she of purpose came to know how I was affected. Further my dream continued not, but as I awake I espied you, and have uttered all to you. Now what Lady this should be, I know not, unless it be Praxentia.  
Montelyon made this answer: What this should mean I know not, neither is it to be regarded. For dreams are but idle Fancies, procured by the conceit or imagination of the Dreamer: thinking that of another that he wished to himself, which is more likely: For the Princess were overfond to place her love on so dejected a stranger as myself, and if she did so it were in vain: for my Fancies being now at liberty, cannot become Bondslaves to affection, were it to the greatest Princess in the World, I speak not this, as rejecting her courtesy, but as one that esteemeth himself altogether unworthy thereof. It may be, said Palian, though you account yourself fortunate, yet you dare not trust me, and therefore you conceal it. Not so quoth he, I have uttered all I think, or ever intend. Palian was very glad to hear him say so, yet made no show thereof: passing the way betwixt that and the Palace, in such like communication.   

CHAP. XIX. How Palian in a disguise had conference with Praxentia, who took him for Montelyon.  
HAving left Montelyon, he got himself to his Chamber, exceedingly troubled in his thoughts, betwixt a striving to overmaster his Love, and yet to love, and attain his love without hazarding his Honour: but his affection had the superiority, and those sparks of virtue which were but newly kindled in his thoughts vanished, and he resolved to try the uttermost issue of that Stratagem, though it were in Montelyons name. Evening now drawing nigh, he remembered his promise, which was to repair to Lanula, therefore thither he went, but so secretly as might be, where he likewise found her staying for him, of whom he demanded what good news? Lanula shutting fast the door, thus said to him. After I returned from you in the Orchard, I went to Praxentia, and told her what speeches I had with you, which revived her heart with joy, willing me to let you understand, that it is not lewd desire, immodest love, nor indiscréet intemperancy that hath procured her to this liking, but the report of your valour, regard of your virtues, and the work that Nature never wrought in her before: therefore she requireth you be constant, secret, and loyal: nor to regard her love the less, for that it was easily won, but to impute the same to Destiny, that had ordained him unknown to that honour, to be beloved of her, that hath ordained him unknown to that honour, to be beloved of her, that hath refused to match herself to the greatest Emperors in the world. By Heaven (qd Palian) my heart is tied to her in such bonds of constant Love, that should she command me to rip my heart from forth of my breast, I would do it to fulfil her desire, and show my duty.  
Few words (quoth Lanula) are sufficient, therefore know, that by reason of her Father's displeasure, she dareth not openly converse with you, but she hath yielded to be directed by me, and therefore late this Night come to my Chamber, and I will get you the habit of a Gardener, in which disguise you may with safety through the Garden enter her Chamber. Palian yielding her many thanks, departed, whilst she went and certified Praxentia what we had determined. Whose love being grown to a settled resolution, and desirous to ease herself disquiet, gladly consented thereto, thinking the time over-tedious, company troublesome, and her Supper unsavoury, to taste the sweetness of her stolen affection. Palian at the time appointed went to Lanula, who had already provided his disguise, wherewith he apparelled himself, following her directions to find the entrance to her Chamber.  
Palian being entered the Garden, soon found the door fast shut, but Praxentia having a sight of him out of her Window came down herself to open the same. His heart was so ravished with joy of her presence, that he could not instantly speak: but humbling himself upon his knee, he said. Virtuous Lady, I humbly desire you to pardon this my boldness, which I would never have undertaken, had not some formed hope animated me thereto: but since it is your gracious pleasure so much to honour my unworthiness, I humbly give my poor heart to your disposition, which shall account itself everlastingly happy to be employed in your service.  
Good Knight (quoth Praxentia) had I not been fully assured of your virtues, I would never have admitted you this favour: therefore I accept your gift, and in exchange thereof will give you mine: so that you promise me to use it honourably.  
Else let me become the infamous reproach of all the World, let my joys be turned into sorrows, my health into sickness, my pleasure into pain, and all that I wish to prove my good, to been my everlasting misery.  
Your Protestations dear Knight, quoth she, are of sufficiency to overcome my yielding heart, that harboureth no misdoubt of your disloyal meaning, but it is fully assured your virtues cannot harbour dissimulation, that is altogether different from virtue: therefore trusting you more than myself, I admit you that favour, I never before granted, which is to receive you as my chosen Friend, trusting you will prove as faithful as I desire, and will not reward my favour with disloyalty.  
Which said, taking him by the hand, she led him up into her Chamber, where many speeches passed betwixt them, he with earnestness entreating her consent to love him, and she binding him by many vows to be constant.  
He durst not utter many speeches, lest it might bewray him: with all his conscience guilty of deceit, withheld him from boldness, and though peradventure she would have taken any thing in good part, yet fear to be discovered himself, made him think no such matter, but his behaviour so near as he could, framed himself to the estate of Montelyon. Which likewise pleased Praxentia well, who though she were very affectionate herself, yet she imputed his coloured modesty to virtue, and his dissimulation to pure honesty, that by this conference he was fully assured of her love, and she nothing doubting of his loyalty, being constrained by reason of the day's approach, to break off their communication, referring their next meeting to Lanulaes' direction: for that time both parting with many courteous farewells, she fully contented, he somewhat discontented, that he had attained that favour in anothermans' name, which if he might have claimed as proper to himself, he would have deemed himself most happy. Clogged with these Cogitations, he gate to Lanulaes' Chamber, to whom he discovered his fortunate success, telling her that in the evening he would repair to her, to know Praxentiaes' pleasure, and her direction, when and where to speak with her again,   

CHAP. XX. How Montelyon was in love with Praxentia, How he was still prevented by Palian of speaking to her. And how he in disguise lay with her.  
Early the next Morning Praxentia forsook her rest, and although she had slept but a little that Night, yet she was loath to be accused of sloth, and apparelling herself, framing a more than ordinary kind of merry countenance, for that her mind was more than wontedly contented, she attended the Queen in company of the Lady Piera.  
It so fell out that day, that the King of Persia himself, with the Peers of the land, feasted with Persicles, Palian, and Montelyon, which fell out according to Praxentiaes' wish, that she might behold her beloved Knight with a surfeiting view. Palian like wise was no less glad than she, that he might behold her on whom his heart was fixed: and every one saving Persicles and Montelyon, had their hearts inclining to disport, only they two rested sad, heavy, and unpleasant, which was easily to be espied, and was chiefly noted of Praxentia with one conceit, and Palian with another. All the dinner time Praxentiaes' eyes were fixed on Montelyon, Palian on her, and his bending downward with a heavy aspect. Which drove Praxentia into many cogitations: sometimes thinking he disdained to look on her openly, who had shown herself so affable in private: then she thought it was care to discover her love, which is easiliest discerned by the eyes; but when again she saw he made no show at all of regard to her, her colour often changed, sometimes with grief, sometimes with anger, sometimes with fear, fixing her eyes steadfastly on him, and then glancing about to see if any noted her, Palian noted her; and well understood her meaning, as earnestly noted her behaviour, as she did Montelyons: often changing his countenance, sometimes with fear to be seen, then with a jealous conceit: then again, with an amorous thought, and again with accusing of himself, for disloyal dealing towards her and him. Pieraes' mind was most at leisure to note all, which she performed with diligence, but seeing their eyes placed upon contrary objects, she thought there was as contrary a Sympathy in their affections, both perceiving Palians double conceit, Praxentiaes' disquiet, and Montelyons careless regard of either. By a privy token unseen of any giving Persicles an instance thereof, who quickly conceited her meaning: and jumped with her in opinion, all the dinner time noting them. Which being passed, and music filling the room with pleasant harmony, Persicles pulling Montelyon by the sléeve, whispered these words softly in his ear.  
Friend, rouse yourself from this sad dump, do you behold how you are noted? Upon my life the Princess Praxentia is in Love with you: and if it be so, may you not then account yourself mo●● happy.  
My Lord, said he, you are disposed to jest, no such good fortune will fall to my lot: and yet if it did, I know I should never enjoy it. Why (quoth Persicles) had you but seen so much as I, and noted her looks, you would think so much as I: follow my counsel, do but try, and you shall find it so. What if she were the Empress of the Universal World, would you not venture? and were she not the better to been beloved? and you the less cause to despair, if she would refuse your love, all the doubt you have, is her Father's dislike: neither fear that, Time may bring things vnthought of, to good effect. Do but follow my counsel for this time, and after I will tell you more.  
By this time the Music was ended, and even with that Montelyon cast his eye upon Praxentia, who steadfastly looked on him: her heart being so much grieved with contrariety of thoughts, that the water was ready to overflow her eyelids. When Montelyon, saw that, he presently began to conceive hope, and by little▪ and little, love stole the possession of his heart. Withal he remembered what Palian had before said to him: all which seemed likelihoods that it was so. Whilst he continued in these thoughts, and with more boldness had viewed her well (whose eyes were never off him) the Music began to sound again, and the old King of Persia, being pleasant and merry with feasting, took the Queen by the hand to dance, Persicles seeing that took Piera. Then said the King is there none will make a third? With that Piera desirous to show Monteyon any favour, desired him to do it: but he with mildness and low courtesy made a refusal, in regard of his duty to the King of Persia but suddenly Palian stepped up, and took Praxentia to dance with him, who being of a mild behaviour, refused not, and the rather that none should note her affection to Montelyon, which she assured herself, he could not call in question. Montelyon was exceedingly vexed to be so prevented, yet smothering the same with a pleasant countenance, the music being ended, the King of Persia with the Queen departed leaving them to their recreation.  
Then Palian begins to be disquieted with fear lest Montelyon by conference with Praxentia would make known his last deceit, and he by that means be prevented of all future hope, that he used such means, that Montelyon could have no conference with her which he by reason of his fear durst not with boldness seek, nor ●ore greatly expect, thinking to have ● time of more convenience to meet.  
All this time Montelyon did but entangle himself faster in the snares of affection, still looking to like, and liking to love, and the more he looked, the more he loved, being for that time only contented to look, for other hope he attained not, by reason of Palians prevention, and his own fear to be accounted over bold, which she thought she might well impute to his mean estate. The time of departure being come, and every one ready to bid adieu, Praxentia gave him a flood of her love, with a gentle and kind love, and he her of his duty with a low courtesy.  
Every one parted, Praxentia troubled with doubt of she could not well tell what: for weighing his behaviour, she could not compare it to be like the behaviour of an assured Lover: neither could she account it disdain nor want of government, for she knew him wise, nor want of audacity, for he was bold enough in other matters; nor to inconstancy, for she could not perceive his looks ●ent upon any other. Troubled with a multitude of these passions, by reason of her little suspect of the truth, she made the best construction of all things, wishing Palian ha● been further off that day, whom she thought of purpose intercepted their conference. But to ease her of these troubled thoughts, Lanula comes in with a message from Palian who as soon as the company was parted, went to her, and noting with what little respect Montelyon had that day regarded her, he thought some misconceit might cross he purposed intent: and fearing withal, lest she should send to him he ●ent this message: that withal humility he desired her not to misconceive his meaning for the little respect he gave to her, was with no other intent, but to avoid suspicion, his he art being entirely bound in all duty to her command. This message pleased her well and banished all mists of care from her heart, deviding with Lanula, for a convenient time to have conference with him.  
Montelyon likewise had taken such a view of her beauty, that he now yielded to be Love's thrall, and according to his distempered mind, could ●e pleased with nothing but solitariness, in silence to meditate upon his fortune, on his love, and on his likelihood to at fain thereto, on Palians prevention, on his unknown estate, and on his vowed journey in se●●●● of Constantia▪ troubled with such contrarieties, that he could not resolve himself of any comfort: tiring his Senses with meditating, wearying his heart with grief, and weakening his body with abstinence, void of hope▪ means, or comfort, and yet neither able to despair, nor scarce daring to go forward, than he thought to write, but he wanted a fears Messenger: then he thought himself to speak with her▪ but he store● a denial would be his reward, and that would be worse than death?  
Thus troubled in mind, he betook himself to his rest, scarce able to give his eyes one minutes rest until morning: and then again as void of comfort, as if he dreamt of a thousand impossibilities, neither able by the counsel of Persicles, nor otherwise to devise a mean to speak to her: for his love was now so violent, that it could not be permanent, Fortune intending quickly to overturn the same: for Paly●n by indirect policy dealt so cunningly that by often recourse unto her▪ he at the last won her to such an absolute consent, that she rested wholly at his disposition, never coming to her but in secret, and so late, that all lights were out: besides Lanula being old, first taking him for Montelyon, never made question but that it was he: by which means, he passed still undiscried, and betrayed the secrets of her heart to his privity, that whatsoever he desired, she would perform; and whatsoever he counselled her unto, was but to prevent all means of discovering his disloyalty: persuading her to keep her Chamber for many days, which she likewise performed. That contrary to her expectation, with distemperature of watching, and keeping herself in the close Chamber, she began indeed to wave sickly, which Lanula made known to him, appointing him the next day to come to her, and he should know when again to visit her: in the mean time, she had wrought so with the King and Queen, that they had appointed her to be her Keeper, and none might come at her, but by her sufferance▪ which pleased Praxentia well. Night being come, Palyon got him to Lanula's Chamber, where he found her of purpose to meet him, declaring all that had happened, appointing him that night to come thither. Lanula returning to Praxentia, would not make known his coming to her that night, with no other intent but that Praxentia should not break her sleep.  
At the time appointed, Palian was in the Garden, and Lanula ready to receive him, conducting him up the stairs of Praxentiaes' Chamber, who was in her bed and fast asleep. Palian scenting himself close by her, although the Lights were extinct, yet by the light of the Moon, which with her cléerest light shined upon the Bed, he might take a perfect view of her: who by reason of the heat, lay with all thy Curtains folded, and the Covering that lay upon her so thin that the full proportion of her delicate body might easily be discerned, the same being turned down beneath her waist, with her neck naked, and her ivory breasts passing description, laying forth their beauties, her arms spread the one above her head, the other down by her side.  
Palian beheld this pleasant sight, which was able to ravish the Senses of a most modest beholder, where with his heart was so inflamed, that he had much a do to abstain from touching that beauty. After, he had not stood long, but Praxentia being distempered with some slumbering motion, awaked and espying one so near her Bedside, was ready to give a shrike, but with more regard marking his habit, she knew him, shrouding herself from his sight, until he entreated her to pardon his boldness. Protecting his intent was not to disquiet her. Neither am I disquieted quoth she, how I know you, but I marvel I was not acquainted with your coming, it is Lanulas doing hath thus immodestly used me. I humbly beseech you (quoth he) take no offence thereat, but pardon us both, the greatest fault being mine, for which I am contented to bide any punishment. Your punishment (quoth she) cannot be great, your offence being done to me, that love you more than myself, having given myself to you, that if I have discovered modesty will not permit, yet the offence being procured by you, you may pardon it. The sight qd be, can procure no offence, for that it hurteth not therefore in seeing I committed not injury: but where there is mutual love, and consent in love, there nothing can breed offence but disloyalty, which is as far from me, as impossibilities: therefore I trust I can offend no way but in that, and in that I will never offend. All this (quoth she) may be granted in you but not in me. For I account it a great offence to be immodest, and nothing more contrary to perfect virtue.  
You cannot offend in that (quoth he) to me, for having given yourself mine, why should I not both see, touch and enjoy you? the first being granted, the last cannot be denied. It is not the outward action that uniteth th●e heart but the inward consent.  
I deny not (quoth she) all that I have is yours, by mine own gift and free consent, yet you must forbear possession until the bargain be confirmed by witnesses: otherwise your Title is not good.  
Yes (quoth he) my Title is better by your gift then by a thousand witness: for if you deny they cannot avail me: therefore since you cannot deny me interest, yield me possession. These words were intermingled with many kisses and embrace, able to stir affection in senseless creatures; so that Praxentia understood his meaning more by his behaviour then by his words; that she said.  
Dear Knight, I understand your meaning, which I will not, nor cannot grant, but in any thing else you shall command me, only I desire and am resolved to preserve my Virginity without blemish: therefore good Knight request not that, having so much as you cannot desire more, myself, my company, my love, my life, and all are at your disposition, only I challenge you (as you are a Knight) not to blemish my virtue.  
Notwithstanding he so much prevailed with her at the last, that she gave her consent he should the next night be joined to her in marriage, by such means as she would compass, and then he should without denial attain his desire.  
This contented him not, but he grew to such importunate requests, intermingled with such Oaths and Protestations, being such as no reasonable creature, but one of a shameless disposition would have uttered or requested: withal framing in himself such a kind of desperate behaviour, that she could not tell well how to deny him: that at last she called Lanula unto her, whispering a few words in her ear: whereupon we presently drew the Curtains, and went out of the Chamber. Palian seeing that, put off his apparel, and laid himself down by her, folding her delicate body in her arms, with sweet embrace, expressing both their loves, but Praxentia kept her word, for notwithstanding he did what else he desired, yet she reserved her Virginity undissolved. Adjuring him by so many entreaties to leave that unattempted, and often intermingling her words with such effusion of tears, that the hardest hearted, and most remorseless creature in the world would have yielded unto: Promising him if she did not compass her marriage the next night, yet he should assuredly attain his desire, though she hazarded herself to accomplish it.  
In these and such like speeches, the night was unawares to them overpast, and the necessity of the time enforced his departure, so that taking his leave of her with many ceremonious farewells, he apparelled himself, and left her to meditate on that which had passed betwixt them.   

CHAP. XXI. How Montelyon discovered Palians deceit, and how he was in some sort revenged. Hasting Persicles to depart in search of Constantia.  
IT fortuned that Montelyon that Morning was early up, and more early than any used, possessed with a troubled head, and a Lovesick heart, and walking up and down the Gardens, at last in a heavy dump be sat down in an Arbour right over against Praxentiaes' Lodging, even at such time, as Palian departed, who seeing one in secret come from thence, he privily followed him, till Palian came to his Lodging. Montelyon then began verily to think that it was some Messenger, either sent from her to Palian 〈◊〉 returned with answer of some Message he had delivered, or that it might be Palian himself, whom he resembled in proportion, though not in habit.  
The day now waring aged, he found out Persicles, with whom he kept company all the day, thinking indeed it was Palian himself that he had seen, for that he kept his Chamber most part of the day: when it grew fowards' night, he again disguised himself, and girding his Sword to his side, he entered the Garden, and as he walked by the door, with purpose to take up his standing in the Arbour Lanula was come down by that way, to bring a Friar in, which should secretly knit up the marriage, according to the agreement betwixt her and Praxentia, and espying one go by, she thinking it had been he that appointed to come; called, saying; who is there, Montelyon? He hearing that, said, it is I▪ You come too soon, quoth she, the Friar that should marry you to Praxentia, is not yet come, whom I am now going to seek. Montelyon was half amazed: but thinking to find out the truth, said; What shall I then do? Return to your Chamber, quoth she, and chang● your Apparel; for if you come in this, she will be offended, for she is very fearful, and many troubled thoughts have possessed her head this day: she did fall out with me wonderfully, for bringing you in the last night▪ when she was in bed, and when she had me draw the Curtains, and be gone. I thought you would have pleased her ere ye parted: but in faith tell me, was she not kind? Had you not that you would have? Montelyon blushed to hear her immodest questions, making no answer, soothing her until her flattering tongue had bewrayed all the mischief herself was guilty of. Well, quoth she, stay hereby till I am returned, and then you shall go in with me, for I dare not let you in before.  
Montelyon wondering at this ●ccident, by the circumstance of that he had heard, assuring himself, that some man in his name had attained Praxentiaes' love, which fretted his heart with such vexation, that he was ready to run mad with grief: but calling himself to better remembrance, he said: you may save that labour, I have dealt with a faithful friend to that effect, who promised to meet me here within this hour, therefore return to Praxentia, myself will stay his coming.  
Lanula thought nothing, but went in, telling Praxentia why she returned so soon. Montelyon covering his Face, as privily as he could from being descried, walking up and down by the door, and within short space espied Palyon coming, ask, who was there. Are you Montelyon? I am he, answered Palian: I am the Friar (quoth he) that am appointed to marry you to Praxentia, with that Palyon embraced him, desiring him to make no question, but with all speed to dispatch the thing he had undertaken. I will do it, quoth he, out of hand: being both together come to the Door, and by Lanula brought up into the Chamber, Praxentia embraced Palyon saying: Welcome my dear Knight Montelyon, this joyful hour shall make us both happy, which I have with great desire wished for.  
I cannot (quoth he) yield you more than hearty thanke●, vowing by Heaven and earth never to deal disloyally with you, in thought, word, nor deed: therefore according to your pleasure let it be done: Montelyon so well as he could, counterfeited the Friar, desiring to have a light. My friend, quoth Palyan, it may discover us. Shall I then quoth he, marry I know not whom. Lanula said, never fear to be discovered, for on my life, there is none suspecteth it: with that she lighted a candle, setting it a far off on the Table. With that he said to Praxentia, this is not Montelyon, but some villain, that hath betrayed you: and discovering his face, both knew him. Praxentiaes' heart with sudden grief, fear and amazement, was ready to burst, he with a pale and dismayed countenance, stood as one transformed; and Lanula with fear and abundance of tears, stood wring her hands. Praxentia could not speak a word with grief to be so deceived by him she most hated: and he with very shame, stood as one senseless: whilst Montelyon said, What disloyal and dishonourable dealing is this in a Prince, whose mind should harbour nothing but virtue, can dissimulation take such deep root in a royal breast, than well may base-born Peasants be excused for barbarous and faithless dealing: unworthy to b●e so worthy of that name: Was there none to exercise your detested practice upon, but the daughter of a royal King, and in the name of a strange Knight, that by his deeds seeketh honour, what impiety can been compared to this, or who can hope for virtue in that breast that harboureth such deceit: Indeed such an Act desireth obscurity: therefore you did well to deny us light: for were it day, the Sun would blush, or withdraw her bright splendour amongst the misty Clouds to behold it. Well may he live, but for ever will he be hated, that seeketh to fulfil his content by such dishonoured impiety.  
Base fellow (quoth Palyon) presumest thou upon my lenity to abuse me: I count it not dishonour to win the love of so beautiful a Lady, by any hazard: yet it grieveth me, that I was compelled to name myself after him that I account my in●erio●r, I quoth Praxentia, you are inferior in birth, but not in virtue.  
By Heaven quoth Montelyon, thou hast so much dishonoured this Lady, and injured him, that thou art not worthy to live, and were it not for offending her sacred eyes with slaughter, she should behold thy Massacre. With that he drew his Sword.  
Nay good friend (quoth she) stay thy hand indeed it will offend me: Therefore let him go, and live to his dishonour and my shame: for I will not be guilty of his death. And I beseech thee as thou favourest virtue, not to disclose this to any, least hearing it spoken by others, it procure my death, as for him, I think shame of himself will withhold him from blazing his own and my reproach: for Lenula she hath done me wrong against her will.  
For my part dear Lady (quoth he) it shall never pass my lips, whilst life doth last, for I so much abhor the fact, that I hate to speak of it.  
Palian seeing his policy disclosed (though it was now no time of recantations: for he well perceived Praxentia absolutely hated him) he was so overcome, that he stood as a living creature transformed to a senseless picture; whilst Praxentia pull●● from of her neck a rich jewel which she gave Montelyon, in consideration of his pains, withdrawing herself from their company.  
Palian what with shame and grief went thence in a rage, ready to run mad, spending his time in such anguish, studies, plots and devices, which was to win her Love, that before many days he became so sick, that all men expected nothing but his death.  
Montelyon casting off the affection he had entertained, with conceit that Palian had dishonoured her, as he might well suppose by Lanula his speeches, hasted Persicles in search of Constantia, not once discovering w●y he had so 〈◊〉 altered his mind, resolving never to set his fancy on any Lady's beauty, which did but disquiet the mind, and make it unapt to practise virtue: purposing never to l●aue searching, though it were through all the world to find his parents, and 〈◊〉 him in search of Constantia.  
The day 〈◊〉 being now come, they armed themselves, none knowing the intent of their departure but Piera. Taking their leaves of the King and Queen with great solemnity, the hearty love of thousands of Persians, wishing them good success, many seeming dead with grief for their departure, who with their Tilt, Attorneys and Triumphs, had delighted the eyes of the beholders. Persicles was armed in black armour, with all his furniture correspondent: and Montelyon in an Armour of silver, without any devise at all therein, with his Steed and furniture as white as Snow, that by their difference th●y might easily be known from all men.   

CHAP. XXII. Of certain strange adventures that befell Persicles and Montelyon, by which they were parted. And the conference that Persicles had with Delatus, which containeth the History of Delatus his misfortunes. And how Persicles by Delatus counsel returned into Assyria.  
BEing without the City, and parted from all company, they traveled directly towards Arabia, spending many day's journey without adventure, and overpassing the tediousness of their travail in conference of sundry matters, but especially Persicles deciphered the favour, proportion, beauty, and countenance of Constantia: that Montelyon might (if he came in their company unknown) the better know her. With tedious travel they arrived in a pleasant Valley, through the midst whereof ran a most pleasant River, whose Crystal streams ran with great swiftness, washing the Pebble stones in her bottom so clear, that they might easily be discerned, riding along by the River's side, they beheld a far off two Damsels all in white on horseback, crossing the Meadow with such swiftness, that they were both soon out of sight, Montelyon desiring to know what they were, desired Persicles to return. With that he spurred his Steed, who ran so swiftly, that the earth seemed to shake under him: he road a mile before he could overtake them, but so soon as they espied him, they turned back, and before he could ask the question, one of them said: as you are a Knight and favour the distress of wronged Ladies, pity us, and vouchsafe your aid to redeem our Mistress, that even now was taken away from us by three mighty Giants.  
Fair Virgins (quoth he) I profess Arms, and to my uttermost will I aid you, else were I not worthy of the name of a Knight: therefore let me know her name. She is Daughter to Amphiador Duke of Ila, her name is Philotheta, for beauty, virtue, modesty, shape, courtesy, humility, temperance, chastity and wisdom▪ not to be equalled, therefore the more to be pitied, & succoured in distress: we are posting back to bring this heavy News to the Court, and whilst we stay here, she runneth in farther danger. Which way went they (quoth he) directly by the way we came said they, whom we would have followed further, but that we durst not venture over the River after them. With that Montelyon turned back, declaring to Persicles what he had heard. If report lie not said Persicles, the Damosels have not flatteringly praised her, I have before this heard of her. Then both of them hasted to follow her, passing the River with much danger of drowning, by reason of the depth: They had not rode above two hours, but after they met a Country Swain, running forwards and looking backwards so fearfully, as if he had been nearly pursued. Fellow, said Persicles, what ailest thou? O Sir, quoth he, I met with three the monstrous Creatures that ever I beheld, carrying a Lady that made wonderful Lamentation. Hearing that, they posted down the way which was beaten plain: at last the same parted into two ways, being doubtful which of them to seek, at last they concluded to part, embracing each other, as if they should not meet again: Persicles on the right hand and Montelyon on the left. Of whose several adventures, strange accidents befell.  
Persicles road on with great swiftness, not once able to set eye on them, for that way they went not, therefore he spent much labour in vain, until it drew to night, and then he thought it vain to seek them wand'ring along to seek some convenient place to rest in which he could not do, for those Deserts were uninhabited. At last drawing near unto a Rocky Hill, he might espy a glimmering light, as it were to shine through the hollow Cliffs thereof, and thitherwards he drew, perceiving it to be some poor Habitation, he alighted, tying his Horse to a Bush, and knocking at the door, which of itself opened, he espied an aged old man sitting over a little fire in which he was busily turning of Roots which he roasted. Who casting up his eyes, and espied Persicles, said to him: Come in good Knight. Distress I know hath brought you hither, else would you not walk those Deserts so late. Pardon me good Father, quoth he, this bold intrusion: You guess aright of my estate, for I have wandered out of my way, and sought long for some Habitation, but was frustrated, until I was drawn hither by the sight of your Candle, Sir (said the old man) you are welcome, and I would I were able to comfort you in some good sort, but such as this my poor Habitation yieldeth, if you please to stay this night, shall be at your command. Neither are you the first that hath been entertained thus by me, therefore disdain me not, nor my goodwill. Father, quoth he, I gratefully except your good offer, and thank you for this kindness, that exceedeth my desert, or means to requite: and the rather I desire your company and conference, for that I am but a stranger in these country's, and would gladly hear something thereof by your report. Sir (quoth the old man) first sit down, and take such spare Diet as my store affordeth, and afterwards I will be ready to declare what I can to satisfy you. Which when they had done, the Hermit thus began.  
Sir, I shall first discover what I am, and the cause of my living in this desolate obscure place: and withal discover those things that (you may suppose) are beyond my knowledge: For no want of misfortune, nor fear of being discovered, hath made me choose this kind of life, but mine own voluntary fancy, which persuadeth I can no other way live, so well agreeing with my unfortunate disposition: neither would I have you think I intent to fill your ears with idle prattle or repartition of toys, but as I intent to ease your heart with some of the care it possesseth: So I desire you by hearing my misfortune, and aiding my estate, to ease me, or at least, to comfort me with some hope of your favourable assistance: for I know your name, your Country, your cause of travel, your means of remedy, and your success hereafter: which I will declare unto you, after your patience hath heard out my tragic History, which I cannot choose but utter first. Persicles wondered to hear his speech, little thinking he could perform what he promised, but yet determining to try him, and desirous of comfort, he entreated him to proceed, for he was desirous to hear his Discourse. Sir, said the Hermit, my name in my flourishing estate was called Delatus, my dignity the Dukedom of Ila, which I enjoyed many years in great quiet being both enriched in the gifts of Fortune, and of Nature: for in my youth I chanced to set my affection on the beauty of Alsala, Daughter unto a Gentleman of Antiochia, not for her possessions, but for her beauty, which surpassed all the Ladies of the South parts of this Continent. I sued long and at last attained her consent, married her, and brought her into Ila, where I lived with her a year in great quiet and content: being within that space enriched with a Daughter, naming her Pilotheta, in her Infancy showing that more years would perform in her more exquisite beauty, which is the Virgin that you now travel in search of. Living in his blissful content, there chanced a Knight named Amphiador to take a view of my fair Alsalaes' beauty, which at the first sigh●●ierced so deep that he was entangled therewith, and laboured by all means to grow into Familiarity, thereby to enjoy more fully her sight, and company: Fortune and myself so favouring him, that I esteemed so well of his company, that I thought myself not well when he was from me: He on the other side seeming so much to affect me that I admired at his kindness. All this time did he insinuate himself into Alsalaes' company, she likewise esteeming so honourably of him, that by reason of the love betwixt him and me, and her own little suspect of his disloyal dealing, she at all times admitted him her company, and used him so kindly and familiarly, that she made him privy to most of her secret counsels. Notwithstanding, all this he durst not manifest his love to her, seeing indeed her virtues to be such, that he thought it impossible to attain it, thinking it better rather to live in silence and enjoy her company, then by uttering his affection to be deprived of all comfort. Upon a time likewise, as he did, there arrived at my Castle another Knight, named Pallesus, whom in the same manner that he had done, surfeited on my Alsalaes' beauty, and was both admitted mine and Amphiadors company: both of us esteeming well of him for many honourable qualities, that he was endued withal. He as little suspecting Amphiadors love as he did his, nor I myself, nor Alsala once thinking any such matter, for that one kindness bred in us such familiarity, that many passionate and amorous actions might be acted: and yet on no side suspected. Thus did I live in great content some two years, spending the time in Hawking, Hunting, and other pastimes, as void of disquiet as heart could wish, thinking myself happy in their kindness, but most in my fair Alsalaes' love. They with coloured courtesy seeming to live by enjoying my good company and familiarity, and she as much as I esteeming them for their love. But at last this pleasant Summer began to turn to Winter, and our sweet content to discontent, for Pallesus love burst into a flame, which he was unable to restrain, that in secret sort he gave my Alsala knowledge thereof, which was as delightful for her to hear, as it is for one to hear that he hath drunk poison: but notwithstanding, her mind being endued with courtesy, and herSoule with Virtue, in kind sort she reproved him, wishing him not to prosecute any such matter, for she would never yield thereto. Notwithstanding her courteous denial bred in him no remorse, but rather a hope of comfort, that continually he followed his suit, which bred an exceeding trouble and disquiet in her heart, that whereas she was before delightfully pleasant, she became oftentimes so Melancholy and sad that I wondered thereat, but could not learn the cause thereof, thinking it had been rather some Sickness than passion of mind. Being long in this sort troubled with his love, she began to devise how to be rid of it, but so as it might not come to my knowledge: for virtuous love made her loath to disquiet me, relying upon Amphiadors virtues, she thought by his assistance to rid herself of Pallesus: and therefore on a time, being with him alone in secret, she declared the whole circumstance of all to him, declaring his counsel and dissuade Pallesus from intending me such dishonour. Amphiadors' heart was suddenly possessed with a jealous conceit against the said Pallesus: but withal he meant by that means to attain his de●●re, therefore coming to Pallesus, he told him what Alsala had made him privy unto, not dissuading him, but counselling him to persist therein, promising he would by all the means he could further the same. Pallesus was somewhat comforted therewith, and Alsala was more cheerful, as hoping by Amphiadors means to be rid of her Lover.  
Amphiador one day, being alone with me in my Forest, first using many entreaties to me to be secret, and binding me by many Oaths, without his advice, not to declare it to any: he told me that Pallesus did make love to Alsala, and that it was likely she would yield thereto, giving me knowledge that oftentimes they met in secret, and withal counselling me but to note their glances and behaviours, and I should find that to be true which I then least thought of: Protesting that mere love to me, in regard of mine Honour, and his own duty, bound him to discover that, which otherwise he would never have revealed. With this my mind was much disquieted, nevertheless I would not too rashly give credit to his speeches, before I had observed their behaviour some time, which I found to be somewhat familiar, on deep affection on his part, but on hers, with a contrary intent, left her countenance should bewray his love to me, which she knew would breed my disquiet: by reason of Amphiadors persuasions, who continually augmented my suspicion, I verily began to suspect them, and grew to extreme jealousy, assuring myself they dealt disloyally with me, purposing to work revenge against them, but then he began to persuade me to be well advised, and not to condemn them without manifest proof: as much persuading me from thinking so, as he had before done to persuade me thereto: but then nothing could alter my mind, my vehement suspect neither suffering me to be quiet, nor yet to find his deceit: So that one day being alone, ● complained against my hard Fortune, and her disloyalty: in the midst of which complaints he found me out, intending by my overthrow to work his own desire. I seeking him so near me, after much conference desired him as a Friend to counsel me the best way to salve these evils, to be assured of the truth, and yet to do it without mine own reproach, or her scandal: for that I was loath to accuse her without just proof.  
If I may quoth he, presume to counsel you, thus would I advise you to do: the King is now sick, and hath sent for many of his Nobles to come to him: say you likewise that you have received Letters from him, and that you must three days hence depart towards the Court: By this you shall easily find out the truth hereof, & at the time of your departure, desire Pallesus to bear you company: which if he refuse you may then judge of him accordingly: Myself will then accompany you unto my Castle, wherein you shall remain in secret some certain days, and I in a disguise, unknown of any, will return and by my faithful diligence, will from time to time note their behaviour, and so find the truth thereof. I liked well of his counsel, and followed the same, making my departure known to Alsala, who with a heavy heart lamented to hear of my absence, which then by reason of my suspect I esteemed to be dissimulation. Amphiador in the mean time went to Pallesus, and told him that I intended by reason of some conceit or suspicion, I had lately conceived, to carry him with me unto the Court: and therefore he willed him to be absent at that instant. The time of my departure being come, I thought to try Pallesus, but he was gone, which augmented my suspicion to a resolution: but intending to try the uttermost of all, and trusting to Amphiadors faithful dealing, I went with him unto his Castle, staying there some three days: in the mean time (I thinking he had been returned to my Castle) he went to an Enchanter named Penthrasus, and brought him to my Castle, showing him Pilotheta, promising him, that if he would but work means to rid me away, that I might never return, when she came to years, to procure her to consent to his love. Penthrasus at the first sight liked the proffer, and promising to undertake the same, taking a solemn Oath never to discover the same. Now fearing lest some other should prevent him, and to avoid his Wife's suspicion, who had great knowledge in Negromancy, and often by her skill, crossed his practices, and withal unwilling to be any way guilty of blood, after I was delivered to him, he brought me into this place, casting such charms and incantations upon me, that I shall never be released: which when he had done, he told me the cause why he had done it, and withal Amphiadors practice against me, I then entreated him to release me▪ promising him to fulfil whatsoever Amphiador had promised him: but no persuasion could prevail, for he told me he had bound himself by a solemn Vow to perform it, which he could not break, for if he did, with that he should lose the virtue of his Art. Then did I lament my Misfortune with bitter exclaims: but he told me it was in vain, and so departed. Here did I live many years, until I was quite past all hope of comfort, thinking to end my days in this place, without ever hearing of them again: but at last Penthrasus came to me again, rehearsing the sequel of this History as followeth.  
Amphiador being sure enough of me, returned to my Castle, and coming to Alsala, after long circumstance and protestations, told▪ that the day that I went from thence, Pallesus having before complotted such a Stratagem, had set upon me with an ambush of men, and slain me, telling the same with such protestations and probabilities of truth, that Alsala could not choose but believe him, counselling her in secret to apprehend him, and cast him in Prison. Alsala had much ado to keep life within her body, having scarce breath enough to command her Servants to apprehend him, whilst Amphiador laboured with such as were about her to keep life in her.  
The rumour of my death was soon spread abroad, and my Servants beléeving the same, some posted to the Court, some searched for my body, neither finding me alive nor dead, for which Amphiador still had an accusation: ready to satisfy any doubt, Pallesus hearing that it was Amphiador accused him, and for no less matter than my death, according as he well might, denied the same, by often entreaties desiring Alsala, to let him be admitted to his trial: but she overswayed by Amphiadors persuasions, being before troubled with Pallesus Love, whereby he fought to dishonour me that was his friend, which bred a persuasion in her, that to attain that, he sought my life, would give no credit to him: but resolved he would die. And within few days apparelling herself, her Servants, and all her attendants in mournful weeds, she departed towards the Court, craving justice of the King against Pallesus for murdering me: the King told her she should have justice, Pallesus was brought before the King, and there accused by Amphiador, he alleging what false accusations he could, and the other still pleading his innocency, that in the end Amphiador desired the King to grant him the Combat against Pallesus, which should end the doubt of this Controversy. The King granted it, and appointed a day for the trial. In which cruel Fortune so ordered the issue, that Pallesus was slain, and all men accounted him guilty, and me dead, yielding much honour to Amphiador, and the King in recompense of his supposed loyalty to me, and for that I died without an Heir, created him Duke of it, yet reserving the living to Alsala, during her life. This being done, Alsala returned towards Ila and Amphiador with her, but very sore wounded: of whom he had a most special care, tendering him as herself, for the Love he had shown her in becoming her Champion for revenge of my Death.  
After he had recovered his Wounds, he continued many days with her, not once mentioning any Love to her, seeming with her to mourn for my loss: But as all things by Time wear out of Remembrance, so did her Sorrow of me, and she began to conceive well of him: Which he perceiving, prosecuted his Love with such success, that in the end he married her, and ever since hath lived with her: Which when Penthrasus declared unto me, it attained my heart with deadly grief. Then I desired him to release me from that misery. Neither do I intend to claim the performance of Amphiadors promise, for that Philotheta was Fair, Chaste, and Virtuous: Neither will I reveal this secret to any but yourself, nor shall you depart from hence, until the adventure of the Enchanted Tower be ended, built by Helyon, wherein he hath shut Constantia, Daughter to the King of Persia, and betrothed Wife to Persicles King of Assyria▪ Who shall be the first Knight that shall arrive in this place: Neither shall that Enchantment be ended by any but Persicles Son, begotten of Constantia: For (quoth he) the date of my Life is near an end: and at such time as Persicles arriveth here (Will him, when he hath heard this report) to return into Assyria, to establish his Kingdom in Peace; For it will be in vain for him to spend his Days in travel to Redeem her, the finishing thereof must be by his own Son. When he had spoken these words he vanished, appointing me to a certain Bound which I cannot pass, nor any yet came into but only yourself, which assureth me that you are Persicles, and travel in search of Constantia. You have (said Persicles) filled my heart with Fear, Hope, and Comfort, the one striving to overmaster the other fear, that the Enchanter dissembled: For that I have as yet no Son, nor never shall have by Constantia: for she being still Enchanted, how shall I attain her company? Yet again I am somewhat comforted, that he could as well tell who should finish the Enchantment he had made, as of my coming to this place: For I am the most forlorn King of Assyria, that shall never enjoy comfort until she be released, which doubt persuadeth me will never be; For if I must now return into Assyria how shall I hope to find comfort? Yet he of good comfort, quoth Delatus: for hope hath preserved my life many years: assuring myself that Penthrasus told me nothing but what was true, and shall assuredly come to pass, both your comfort, and my long looked for Releasement, being appointed both to one hour: Why should you then despair more than I, since both our comforts resteth on our release? But according to his Counsel, travel no further, for it were fain to do that which can yield no hope of comfort.  
In doing that (quoth Persicles) I shall both dishonour myself, and leave my Friend unkindly, whose Deserts hath bound my life to requite his Love: he hath only for my sake undertaken to travel in Constantiaes' search: the cause of whose departure from me, was in search of your Daughter Philotheta, that is reputed Daughter to Amphiador, who was this day stolen from Ila, by certain Giants: Then he declared how they came to knowledge thereof. It did him good to hear that she was living, insomuch that he rejoiced exceedingly thereat: Withal, enquiring of him what knight that was, that was gone in her rescue. Persicles then said, it were too tedious to make Recital of him: for than I should rehearse the discourse of my misfortunes. Were it not (quoth Delatus) troublesome to you, I would earnestly require your favour to hear it. To requite your kindness (quoth he) I will rehearse the same, which yet I have concealed from all men but Montelyon. With that he declared the whole History, from the beginning of his first Love to Constantia, until that hour. Which when he had heard, his heart was filled with Admiration, who that Knight Montelyon should be, his Fancy persuading him he should end the Enchantment, had not the doubt that he was Persicles Son given likelihood of the contrary. The night was spent in these Discourses, and bright Phoebus lightened the darkness of that Desert, Persicles neither willing to depart nor stay: Sometimes minding to find out Montelyon, and to bid him Farewell: but at last persuaded by Delatus, taking his leave of him with many Farewells, he mounted his Steed, and so departed directly towards Assyria.   

CHAP. XXIII. Of a Combat Montelyon fought against three Giants, and how he rescued Philotheta. And what befell them in an Hermit's Cell.  
MOntelyon being parted from Persicles, hasted with more than ordinary pace after Philotheta, still having intelligence which way they went, by such as met them: he overtook them about the setting of the Evening: using few words until he had dealt some blows, running at the hindermost with so fierce a career, that he overturned him with his héels upwards, the other two looking behind them, began to laugh at their fellow's fortune, thinking that he had received that fall by chance: but looking further, they espied Montelyon running so violently against the second, that had he not avoided the point of his Lance, he had seconded his fellow, or light on worse fortune. With that one of them said: This fellow is very bold now, but he will trust to his heels anon. This said the first that was overthrown, ran towards Montelyon, offering such a forcible blow at him, that had he not spurred his Steed to avoid him, he had either slain him or his Horse, but he knowing it better, to fight on foot then on horseback, alighted, whilst the Giant came towards him again, thinking at one blow to beat him in pieces: the other two seeing him on foot, went away laughing, but the Giant missing his aim, by reason of Montelyons nimbleness, was ready to turn about, with the force of his compass blow: in which time Montelyon leapt within him, and thrust his Sword so far into his Body, that he fell down dead: the other two hearing that, one of them came running back to rescue him, whom Montelyon soon espied, being ready to receive him: and seeing no more Odds, but one to one, thought his Combat was not unequal. The Giant seeing the other dead, thought at once to end Montelyons life, that he struck at him with all his force, but he avoided his blow not yet daring to come within him, until he was somewhat out of breath, being furious for revenge, but more mad to miss so many blows, he struck so full and violently at Montelyon, that his mas●y Club stuck in the Earth, which whilst he laboured to pull out, Montelyon struck him so full a blow on the Arm, that he cut the same quite from his body, wherewith he gave such an exceeding groan, that all the place rung with the noise thereof, running away as fast as he could towards Montelyons Steed, whom he affrighted much with his grissy and blustering approach, that he broke in sunder the reins of his Bridle, and ran away with great swiftness: Montelyon was exceedingly vexed for want of his Steed, not knowing for want of him what to do: and by reason of the Night's approach he still pursued the Giant, keeping him within sight so long as he could, which at last he lost: Seeing himself so disappointed, and unhorsed, he began to study what to do: at last being past hope of either finding them, or recovering his horse, by reason of the darkness of the night, he went wand'ring up and down to seek a place of rest, and by chance lighted on a Wood into which he entered, but fearing to rest, lest some wild Beast might devour him, he wandered on, with purpose to pass through the same, where suddenly he heard the sound of a big voice, which made him stand still and listen, & with soft steps drawing thitherwards, he perceived it was the Giants, that cursed and hand him for crossing their journey. What shall we do, quoth one of them, shall we stay here, or no? We shall wander I know not whether, a plague upon that white Devil that haunted us. I am sure he is no man, for we are men, and one man should be as good in fight as another, but you two like Cowardly slaves, have suffered such a wretch to have advantage against you. Hold thy prating quoth the other, thou couldst have done no more than we: thou needest not vex me, I am vexed enough with the loss of mine Arme. Let us rest here until it be day, and then we will away, for he hath work enough to find his Horse.  
Philotheta was so affrighted with fear, that she lay like one in a dead trance, to whom one of them said. Sweet Philotheta, been not discomforted nor offended with me, I have loved thee long, and long expected this happy hour to enjoy thee: be content to Lodge on the cold Earth one night for my sake, that have lost many a night's sleep for thine; neither shalt thou lie on the Earth, for my body shall be thy bed, whilst mine arms embrace thee: Then did he take her in his Arms, bestowing many a loathsome slavering kiss upon her, but she for fear durst not cry, being almost dead with grief. Montelyon stood and heard all their unreverent usage, wishing it were day, that he might revenge their disloyalty. They had not lain long, but first the one and then the other fell fast asleep, which Montelyon easily perceived by their routing, thinking it no discredit to slaughter such miscreants that delighted in no Knightly action, but in wrong and oppression: there withdrawing unto them, Philotheta espied him and at the first sight by reason of his white armour knew him: desirous she was to speak to him, but fear to awake her Keeper withheld her, and yet she knew the care of her affright, detained him from revenge: At the last, so boldly as she durst, she lifted up her hand beckoning Montelyon to her, and pointing to the Giant; Montelyon understanding her meaning, thrust his Sword into him that had her folded in his Arms, who striving with the pang, gave her liberty to leap from him, roaring forth such a groan, as all the Wo●d rung therewith, and his fellow half amazed, started up ready to run away, but Montelyons Sword overtaking his hindermost leg, at one blow cut in sunder the sinews, and he fell down, holding up his hands for mercy: Montelyon with the next blow pierced his brains, and so he died a most miserable death.  
The other had received no deadly wound, for the point of his Sword lighting upon one of his ribs, was stayed from ending his life; who whilst Montelyon was slaughtering the other, he had recovered his staff, bending a full blow at Montelion, who by good Fortune, and Philothetaes' strike, turned about, and espying the same coming, broke half the force, and running in withal, ran his sword quite through his Adversary's body, and with the bruise he had received, fell down himself in a trance.  
Philotheta thought he had been dead, running to him with great striving, with her tender hands to unbuckle his Beaver, and unlace his Helmit to give him breath; which though long, yet at last she attained, but in vain: for he lay as a man quite bereft of Life; her Lamentations were such as would have turned revenge to remorse, and those senseless trees into tears, yea the Birds hearing her moan, left off their pleasant notes to listen to her complaints, the very Earth seemed to weep to receive her moistened tears, and all the empty Air resounded, as replete with her wail. Ay me unfortunate Creature (quoth she) to be the cause of so worthy a Knight's death: How shall my unhappy life make recompense for his loss? It had been better these Savage and inhuman monsters had devoured me, than this Knight should have lost his life in my rescue: better it had been that I had died in my Cradle, then to live to see this dismal day, though he be a stranger to me and I have had no trial in his virtues, yet his actions show the honour of his mind: his valour, his noble education, and his courtesy, his worthy birth: I know by his Armour he is not of Arabia, his honourable mind, not hope of requital, procuring him to venture his life in my rescue, which he hath too untimely both hazarded and lost: which no doubt, will be as great a loss to his Country and Friends, as ever any endured. Were he once revived, I would not care what became of myself, nor needed I not to care for his virtuous Valour would shroud me from injuries, and be as safe a harbour as security can afford. Her Lamentations could not so end, but she lengthened them sometimes with weeping, sometimes with lamenting: and then again ready to drown her sorrowful heart in salt tears. Ay me (said she) what shall now become of me? How shall I escape further misery? Here I am left alone ready to be devoured of wild beasts, yet what need I fear any mischief, when so great misery is befallen me, as greater cannot be. Her laments conducted the steps of an aged Hermit that dwelled in those Woods, unto the place where she lay weeping over Montelyon. She suddenly espying him, being half affrighted, said. If thou be a man pity me, and help me to revive this Knight. If thou be'st a Ghost think not to affright me, for I am already full of fear, and if thou be'st neither, then tell me what thou art? Damsel, said he, fear not, for I am a living Creature, as thou art, I pity thy distress, and well do my best to help you. With that he kneeled down by Montelyon rubbing his cheeks, and laying his hand upon his breast, felt some sign of life in him, and seeking for an herb which presently he found, he bruised the same, letting the juice fall into his Nostrils, with the virtue whereof his vital senses returned to their former operations, and his eyes received their sight: With that raising himself up upon his arm, he said: I perceive I have troubled you, and as it were half ashamed of himself, he desired her not to be disquieted with his misfortune. Philothetaes' heart rejoiced to see him revived now he was revived, not so well knowing what to say, as we did when he was in his Trance, but her virtue and his desert constraining her, she could do no less than utter these speeches. Sir Knight, your courtesy so far beyond my desert, hindeth me to yield you thanks, and thanks is an unsufficient requital for your pains, although I know you not, nor never saw you until this day, yet our valour and courtesy in delivering me from Captivity, hath bound me to become grateful, and deserveth more recompense than I am able to yield. Lady (said Montelyon) the Heavens have assisted you, not my Valour: which I have attempted without expectation of Recompense: If you think well of my pains, it is all the reward I crave.  
The old Hermit perceived some strange accident had brought them thither, desired them, for that Montelyon was sore bruised, and she much affrighted and disquieted, to accept of his Cell to rest them in, until they could take better order for their safety. Montelyon thanked him (saying, he was pleased, so it liked the Lady.) With that they began to go, but Montelyon, by reason of his sore bruise, with much ado could stand: The Hermit taking him by the arm, supported him, whilst he with grief, that his misfortunes had brought him to such a low estate, said: It ill beseemeth Youth to be supported by Age: but no man can prevent Destiny. Philotheta offered to lend him her arm, but he desired her not to trouble herself. Sir said the Hermit, refuse not her courtesy, for in time of need it is not good to be curious. With that she lent him her arm, but he took her hand, and that he thought too much boldness, as the other trouble, striving against the weakness he had received by his bruise, to go upright: she like wise wondered that Nature had wrought such a familiar regard in her, towards him she knew not; often accusing herself of Lightness, and blushing when he grasped her tender hand, that with fe●re, and Fancies striving, moistened his Palm; thinking with herself. How is my estate altered, that to day was free from care, and so suddenly brought to Bondage, and from Bondage to this disquiet, and all in a moment? I am now like one that is content with misery, and yet discontented with that Content; I could wish myself from hence, and yet were I gone, I should wish myself even here again, because I desire this Knight's Welfare, and yet me thinks I should not be too Familiar, and yet I know he hath deserved much more courtesy than I can proffer. My mind is affected with a regard of his welfare, and yet am persuaded I should not do so: and if I should not do it, he might accuse me of discourtesy: and if I be too kind, he may deem me too affable. I would fain● know my disquiet, and yet me thinks I am not disquieted, feeling my mind troubled, and know not why, desiring to shake it off, but not knowing how: it is regard of him, not of myself that troubleth me, and yet I neither know how to think well of him without my own disquiet, nor how to be quiet without him: many such like cogitations possessed her fancy: that and other things for her part shortening the way to the Cell, where they arrived: The Hermit giving Montelyon a Potion of certain commixed Drugs, which comforted him greatly, and Philotheta▪ a Cup of Gréekish-Wine, which revived and quickened her affrighted heart: There was no light in the Room; therefore as yet neither of them had seen each other; Montelyon wished the day would appear, that he might behold her Beauty; and she, that she might behold whether his person were agreeable to his prowess: and the Hermit desiring to see what guess he had entertained. Seeing them both silent, the one abstained for Grief, the other for Modesty: After he had seated them on soft Rushes and Flags, he said: As it seemeth to me▪ you are either of you Strangers to each other, which maketh me desirous to know what accident hath befallen you? Father (replied Montelyon) indeed we are so; for as yet I never beh●ld this Lady's countenance, yet I know her name is Philotheta, Daughter to the Duke of Ila: Which knowledge I got by this means: As than I and another Knight were travelling in search of a Lady, that hath long time been missing, we chanced to espy two Damsels clad in white, passing by us with great speed, with whom I entered communication, and they told me that this Lady Philotheta was taken away from them by three Giants, I returned to my Friend with this news, and both of us posted after them, until at a Crossway we parted, thinking if they went either way we should overtake them, but it was my good fortune to light on them, and by their deaths to free this Lady, thinking my labour well bestowed to redeem her from their treachery. Philotheta refrained her speech, only thanking him, fearing, lest he should seem more courteous than modesty would permit, or more coy than virtue required. Sir, said the Hermit, I know those Giants, and the manner of their life to be most inhuman▪ and wicked, whose Habitation is not far off in the Desert of Arabia, by whose Death, this Country is freed from much outrage, which they have, and would daily have committed. Sir (quoth Montelyon) I pray what Country is this? It is (said he) Arabia. Doth not Helyon said he, reign as King? Sir (quoth he) he did reign as King, but whether he be now living or no, it is doubtful: for some suppose he is dead, others say, he is Enchanted in a Tower he built himself, situate not far hence, from which he cannot be released, until the Enchantment be ended, which many Knights of strange Countries have adventured, but none could finish: the cause of building thereof, as yet no man can tell. Philotheta having before heard thereof, weary with that day's travel, whilst they were in communication, fell asleep, which Montelyon perceiving, remitted their communication till the Morning, being unwilling to awake her with their noise.  
The first that awaked was the Hermit, that went out to gather certain herbs, leaving them both sleeping, who both at once awaked, at the first blushing at each others sight, he wondering at her exceeding beauty, and she at his exquisite person, he comparing the Damsels report to her beauty, and her other gifts thereto, which he supposed beyond conceit. And she comparing his valour with his youth, and his courtesy with both, thought her eye never beheld her equal: standing as it were both Enchanted with the other, neither being able long to withhold their eyes from each others sight, both noting each others behaviour, till Montelyon arose, and she did the like, he first breaking silence, uttering these speeches.  
Fair Lady, now that the Sun hath vanished the misty Clouds of night, you need not fear any mishap, for your enemies being dead; I think there is none living of so inhuman a disposition, that would disquiet you For myself, my life, and all that I have, resteth at your command.  
Sir Knight, replied she, I thank you for your kindness past, and now proffered, which hath rid me from that I was in, and out of fear of other mishaps to come, for your Virtues have authority against wicked actions, and your valour a sufficient defence against your enemies. Before any further speeches past, the Hermit came, bringing in his hand the herbs he had gathered, some of which he stamped into juice, and strained, giving Montelyon to drink, others he boiled on the fire, making thereof a most dainty Dish, which when they had tasted, the Hermit said: though I know you find yourself of sufficient strength, yet by my counsel travel not this day, for that thereby you may much impair your health. Myself if pleaseth this Lady, will send a Messenger to Ila, to report her safety in this place. Not so (replied Montelyon) myself (if please her to accept of my Service) will attend her thither: which if it please her I will presently do.  
Sir (said she) I would not have you endanger your health for my sake that am in safety, until such time as you are perfectly recovered. Then said the Hermit, you shall not in this place want any thing, nor fear disquiet, for here hath security dwelled many days, being myself glad, my poor Cell can yield you any content. The Hermit went forth to get Provision, leaving them together in his Cell, whose eyes were drunk with a surfeiting survey of each others perfections, her beauty being such, as might not been equalled by any: And his proportion besides his youth's beauty, and other comeliness of such form, as would please any Lady's eye, which superficial view of the eye, conducted an instant of Love into each others part, which settled itself in that virtuous harbour with such constancy, that it was impossible to be removed: neither deeming each others so fortunate, to agree in such a Sympathy of Love, he thinking she would not love, and she persuading herself he had already settled his Love on that Lady he went in search of. He not knowing which way to frame his Suit on so small acquaintance, nor she, how to show him favour without further trial. She first breaking silence with a heart-breathing sigh bred from the depth of meditation, whereupon he took occasion to stay. Lady, that sigh be wrayeth some disquiet of mind that troubleth you, the occasion whereof, my small acquaintance and unworthiness to been so bold, withholdeth me from enquiring, but if you would yield me such favour as impart your Secrets to me, I would prove so faithful and diligent to pleasure you, that you would commend my willingness, though not my ability: For my heart wisheth my tongue to utter that which my Fancy persuadeth me from: not for that they disagree, but for that my heart harboureth that which my fancy biddeth me not ●tter, because it feareth you will not believe it, and yet you might believe it if it were of more antiquity: for it is commonly holden for truth, that all things of Antiquity are permanent, which never would have been if they had not first begun in youth, youth being the first Foundation, the Foundation is then constant, than things though young of growth contain circumstancy, which being cherished grow to perfection.  
So Lady, if I might without your misconceit, discover the constant zeal of ●●ur perfections that is rooted in my heart, and find some spark of your gentle favour to comfort it, it would grow to such settled resolution, that nothing should remove it, but if in the first Spring it be blasted with Disfavour, it will then spread itself into all parts of my Senses, tormenting every part of me, until it be cherished by the dew of your kindness. I cannot protest, nor vow, nor swear, that I have loved long, yet if your suspect convert not the truth of my well meaning Words into distrust, I durst, protest, vow, and swear, that love to your Perfections is settled in my heart an● nothing can remove it.  
Sir (replied she) should I credit your Words, or impart my Secrets to you, it might be accounted too much credulity: yet without blame I might, it relying on your Virtues: or should I grant it were as you say, that Love began in a moment, being the root is the substance, and therefore permanent, yet how would you think of one, if upon so small probability, I should thank you for your goodwill, and accept thereof, not measuring me by yourself, if you are constant, but measuring me by inconstancy, would judge me light, as I may well account your Words of course, yet as much good Will as may grow in so short an acquaintance I bear you, measuring the same by your own: for if you find cause to love me, I have more cause to be thankful unto you for your kindness, that have received good by you. But neither esteem me light, for being so familiar, nor easily to be won because I am courteous for should I be coy, you might account me unmannerly, and not worthy to be assisted as I have been by you.  
Lady, replied Montelyon, would I harbour a thought that might impeach the least title of your complete Virtue, I were worthy to be hated: for I know that truth is plain, and needeth no coloured Phrases nor Curiosity: which animateth me to en●er into this bold conference with you, not framing my words of course, but of true devotion, trusting that your virtue will pardon my boldness, and your courtesy censure my meaning aright: for I find in myself an unwonted alteration, which desire to be gracious in your sight, hath bred in me (Nature now 〈◊〉 f●aming it) which I neither know how to manifest, nor dare by reason of the small continuance a vow, though my soul knoweth my heart's purity and consent thereto, fearing to be misconceived of you: yet if you will vouchsafe to make trial of me, and grant me but to be your Ser●ant, in time to be tried and censured according to my truth, I shall account myself most fortunate, that yet hope may be anchor of my comfort, one day to be gracious in your sight.  
Sir (replied she) how could I but blame myself, if I should yield you any favour other then for your late pains, which shall bind me to requite it to my power▪ but love, being another subject, how should I give you any credit being a stranger, altogether unknown to me? Lady (said he) you may do it, if your gentle heart will yield thereto, though I am a stranger both to you, and to myself, unknown: for that I am you can witness, but who are my Parents the Heavens have yet concealed. My name if ever you heard thereof, is Montelyon: my cause of coming into this Country, was with Persicles King of Assyria in search of Constantia, Daughter to the King of Persia, his betrothed wife, by misfortune lost many years since: all that I know of myself I have told you, and would I had never known myself, unless you favour me. Philotheta remembered that Amphiador in reciting the Wars betwixt Persicles, and the King of Armenia, had made ample report of his Valour, so much the more with that report loving him, yet she concealed the same from him, thinking though he were never so valiant, yet he might be unconstant: making unto him this answer.  
Sir, because you shall not altogether accuse me of discourtesy, I will not quite deny your suit, nor in any respect grant it, until more convenient time to make trial thereof, neither shall you name your self my Servant, for that you have deserved to be better rewarded, which hereafter you shall find.  
Lady (quoth he) one favour absolutely granted, would now more comfort my heart, than many in suspense, nor that I misdoubt your performance, but that long lingering pain in the mean time will pinch my heart: Therefore without misdoubt of Truth, gratitude and constancy, enrich me but with one, though the least comfortable answer.  
Sir Knight (replied she) what in virtue I can grant, I will yield you, though you may account me already prodigal in Favour, and gentle in reply: yet should I be ingrateful, you might blame me, or too prolix you might condemn me: but as much good will as in so short continuance may be, I bear you, and you shall find me perform, for my heart will never suffer me till this, to conceive so well of any as I do of you: in urging me further you shall make me suspect you: consideration of my late Misfortune, rather willing me to regard my return to my Parents: but you may see your virtues have overmastered my mistrust, and a good opinion of you, hath made me trust myself 〈◊〉 your Custody.   

CHAP. XXIV. How Amphiador arrived near the Cell, and of the doubt that Philotheta was driven into: And of the displeasure that arose between Montelyon and Amphiador: and of Philothetaes' strange departure.  
As soon as she had ended these words, the Hermit came in, which broke off their communication, and telling them how that Amphiador with a many followers were come into the Wood, where the Giants lay dead. Philotheta then thought all care past, but suddenly remembering she must part from Montelyon, her heart fainted with grief, and her senses were exceedingly troubled, for she knew well Amphiador was so rude and suspicious, that he would neither thank him for his pains, nor invite him to his Castle, for he had with like jealous conceits disgraced others that had sought her love. Montelyon on the other side, studied what means to use, still to enjoy her company; and yet he thought it would turn to his dishonour to follow love, and leave Persicles search for Constantia, and the knowledge of his Parents. But to rid them both out of their troubled thoughts, there entered three Knights in green Armour, and without speaking a word, two of them took Philotheta betwixt them, and led her out of the Cell. Montelyon started up and drew his Sword, and following to rescue her, but the third of them without speaking struck at him, where with began a cruel Combat. At last the green Knight said: Thou strivest in vain, she is past recovery. With that Montelyon looking about, saw them quite out of his sight, marvailing they could so suddenly convey her thence: If thou wilt find her (quoth he) thou shalt find her amongst the Hesperian Nymphs: which said, he went away so fast, that Montelyon thought it vain to follow him. By this time Amphiador and his company were come to him: amongst whom he espied one leading his Steed, unto whom he went and said: Sir, this is my Steed, I pray thee deliver him me: the Fellow denying him, he struck him a second blow with his fist and overthrew him. Amphiador seeing that, said: What art thou that so boldly strikest my Servant? Montelyon being vexed with the loss of Philotheta answered, 〈◊〉 will not now tell thee. Amphiador being likewise vexed with his scornfulness, without more words drew his Sword, and struck at him: Montelyon thought to revenge it, but suddenly remembering himself, he said: Wert thou not Father to Philotheta, I would make thee repent thyself: Amphiador hearing him name Philotheta, would have spoke to him again, but Montelyon mounting his Steed road away.  
The Hermit seeing them at such variance, came to Amphiador, giving him knowledge of all that had happened: But he rather beléeving it was some mere coloured excuse for her escape caused his Servants to bind the Hermit, intending by tortures to make him confess more than he could. Montelyon remembering himself when he had rode a good way, how ingratefully he had left the Hermit, turned back, which he had no sooner done, but he espied him bound amongst Amphiadors men, Which vexed himso much that he drew his Sword again, and set upon them, wounding some of them, and slaying others, that there with Amphiador with his Sword drawn struck him again. By Heaven (quoth Montelion) strike me the third time and thou diest. Notwithstanding his words, Amphiador vexed for the death of his Servants, struck him again, where with Montelyon not only defended himself, but offended him so much that he had sore wounded him, and had not his Servants with some of their lives borne of some blows, he had ended his life: but notwithstanding, he left him in a miserable case, that his Servants had much ado to keep life in him, until they brought him home.   

CHAP. XXV. How Mont●lyon in his Travel arrived at the Flower of the Hosperian Nymphs. How every one of them gave him a several gift, and how they named him Knight of the Oracle.  
MOntelyon having freed the Hermit, yielding him many thanks for his kindness, departed with so heavy a heart, that he could scarce speak for grief, travailing he knew not whether, having so many occasions of care, that he knew not what to do, nor which way to direct his steps. All the rest of that day he road forthright in this uncomfortable sort, until it grew to be Night, neither caring for Meat nor Lodging, but turning his Horse loose to feed, he laid himself down under an Oak, whose spreading Branches were as large Canopy over his head, clogged with so many diversities of cares, that his heart was dulled with their confusion, and his Senses so overgrown with conceit, that they brought him into a dead sleep. In the midst whereof, he suddenly awake, being called by a Virgin that appeared unto him, who standing before him, said, Knight, arise, and follow me. Montelyon marvailing what he should be, arose and followed her, she leading the way he thought, through many by-paths, and cross-ways, Hills, Dales, and Woods, until such time as the Sun arose, she vanished out of his sight, and left him in the midst of a pleasant green Meadow, beautified with all sorts of fresh blown flowers, whose beauty delighted the eye, and sweet smell affected the Senses, looking round about him, he saw the same encompassed with Springs, or Groves of young Trees, and in the midst thereof, an Arbour, framed of fresh blooming Roses, made with such Art, as he admired the same: coming near thereto, he espied the Floor strewed with green Rushes, and upon them, all sorts of flowers nipped from the stalks: he stood a while with admiration beholding the same, and casting his eye aside, he espied a Table with these Verses written thereon.  
What ere thou be that shall behold this Writ,  
Abstain from entering to this sacred place,  
A Company of comely Nymphs here sit,  
That rule the Hesperian Oracle of Grace:  
Be not too bold, lest thou repent too late,  
Thy rash attempt, and hard divining Fate.  
Which when he had read, he stood in a deep study, arguing their Ambuguity, when suddenly he heard the Sound of most sweet Music drawing near him, turning his eyes that way, he espied a troop of Damsels, attired in most rich Ornaments, with Garlands of Roses, mixed with divers coloured Flowers upon their heads, som● of them playing upon Instruments, others bearing in their hands a Bow, and at their back, a sheet of Arrows. Amongst them there was three taller, more beautiful, and richly adorned then the rest, wearing Crowns of Palm: amongst them he espied the Damozell that brought him thither, which made him with more boldness stay their coming, they passed by him continuing their Melody, until they came within their Pavilion, than two of them came forth, saluting him with most courteous and gentle behaviour; leading him to the Pavilion, until he came near to the place where they were all seated, and the three principal sat in the midst, Montelyon Disarming his head, kneeling upon his Knee, did them Reverence, whom presently he heard a voice uttering of these words.  
Most noble Knight, the Nymphs of the Hesperian Oracle, pitying thy cares and troubles, have brought thee hither to comfort thee with our assistance: unto which place never any man was yet admitted: therefore to deal not to any what show hast seen: with thy Sword maintain the●e honour, and name thyself, Knight of the Oracle. Thy Parentage is Noble, thy Father not knowing he hath a Son, and your Mother not thinking to see either Father or Son, yet all of you shall most happily meet: thy Fortune shall be good, thy misfortune great, that which thou lovest best, shall trouble thee most: What thou thinkest thyself nearest, thou shalt be farthest off: thy professed Friends, thy greatest Foes. Thou wert begotten in Persia, borne in Arabia, and brought up in Assyria. Be constant in Love, true to thy Friends, patient in misery, and lowly in prosperity. Farewell, and be both happy and unfortunate.  
The Voice ceasing, the Nymphs came round about him, one ungirding his Sword, another unlacing his Helm, and the third unbuckling his Armour: Others taking of his Gauntlets, and every one busied to Disarm him. Which done, one of the chiefest of them presented him with a most rich and curious engraven Armour, wrought of the best and purest Lydian-stéele, enameled all over with green, richly beset with Diamonds, Sapphires, jaspires, and Rubies, the like whereof, for Strength and richness, never Knight possessed: Which when they had Armed him withal, the Second gave him a shield, agreeable thereto in Richness, with this devise thereon: A Knight kneeling encompassed with Nymphs, Crowning him with a wreath of Roses. And underneath, these Words written in Gold: The Knight of the Oracle; The third presented him with a most rich Sword, which he girded to his side, Another, a pair of Gauntlets: another a Plume: another a Spear: another a pair of Spurs, and every one something to express their kindness. When he was adorned with this rich Furniture, which made him most beautiful to behold, every one of them gave him a courteous Farewell, and departed again the same way they came from the Grove, with their Music: the Damsel that brought him thither, came to him, uttering these words: Knight, the Ladies of this Oracle, pitying the hard Adventures you are to undertake, have bestowed these Arms upon you, which shall oftentimes preserve your life: and have honoured you so much, as to choose you for their Knight. They have like wise appointed me to bring you back to the place where I found you: Therefore let us depart, myself will give you a Steed, whose equal for goodness cannot be had. Which when she had said, she led the way, and he followed on, until they came to a Castle, into which the Damsel entered, willing him to stay till she returned, leading in her hand a Steed, black of colour, but of such goodly proportion, that his eyes had never beheld the like before: when he was mounted, the Damsel said unto him Knight of the Oracle, farewell, prosper, and be fortunate, which she had no sooner spoken, but strait she vanished from his sight before he could have respite to yield her thanks for her courtesy. Being parted from her, he entered into these meditations, which shortened the way as he road.  
How far am I blest beyond my desert, having received such favour and gifts of Nymphs, as yet never any man did, insomuch that they have elected me to the high Honour of being their Knight: and yet for all this, I feel my heart so much troubled, that nothing can rid me from disquiet, only for the absence and loss of Philotheta, whom I had thought to have found amongst those sacred Nymphs but was frustrated, which assureth me, my travels in seeking her will be tedious, yet I shall endure them, although they last to the end of my Life. I have lost the noble King Persicles, who by this time accu●eth me of discourtesy for not finding him out, but how can I do that, when I have lost myself and Philotheta: and in her my essence, being, and substance: which of these is dearest unto me, I know not: myself I love by nature, him for his Honour, and her by affection, Which then ●hould I first go in search of, since they are both so dear unto me, as I think myself deprived of comfort, missing either of them: my estate is also so uncertain, and the place where to find them so doubtful, that I cannot assure myself of confidence in either, but must take my Fortune as it falleth, and arm myself with patience to endure the most hardest trial of extremes: the intricacy of his hopeless meditations, would have lengthened his speech, but casting off effeminate lamentation, he quickened his Senses with revived comfort, though his travels would be long, yet his reward (if he might find his Love) would a thousand times countervail them. Then he began to study which way to travel, being as ignorant of the place that Philotheta was, as he was unacquainted in those walks: riding along in those and such like solitary dumps, he at length lighted in a plain fair beaten Path, in the furrows of whose Dust, he might perceive the footing of Horses that had newly gone that way, which put him in some comfort that it would not be long before he should find some Company: He had not rode about an hour, but the way into which he had entered, ascended a high Mountain, whose lofty top discovered to his sight the fair Turrets of the Enchanted Tower, which glisteren as if they had been framed of Massy Gold, which drove him into an admiration: but viewing well the Situation thereof, he discerned the Valleys round about overspred with Tents, as if the same had been encompassed with a Host of Enemies, Thither he intended to travel, forsaking the gallant prospect, to be acquainted with the cause of that Assembly, making the more haste, for that it grew towards night: but ere he could attain thither, it grew to he dark: therefore for that Night, he took up his Lodging under the covert of a tusk of trees, pleasantly seated in the midst of a green Meadow.   

CHAP. XXVI. Of the Conference between Constantia and Philotheta in Penthrasus' Castle.  
THe History hath long discontinued to speak of the Lady Constantia that remained Enchanted, and of Helyon that like wise lay their enthralled in great misery, rightly rewarded for his treacherous dealing. Her eyes shedding continual tears for the absence of Persicles, on whom she continually meditated, resolving that nothing but death should abolish his remembrance, that had not Ila comforted her with promises of her release, the extremity of her Sorrow had soon ended her life: withal thinking that Persicles and her young Son might both been in safety, and yet she by no means could hear thereof: which also added some comfort to her heavy heart. Oftentimes she would entreat her to behold the valiant adventures of Noble Knights that hazarded their own Persons in the adventure for to attain her Love, and in private trials amongst themselves, with whom they were deeply in love, only with the sight of her Picture, but she still refused it, accounting it no pleasure to her to see their misfortune, that spent their labour in vain, for in the continuance of so many years as she had been there enclosed, the fame of her beauty was spread into most parts of those Countries, and many thousand Knights had been their to try their Fortunes, but all failed: the recital whereof would be ever tedious, but many of them lay their imprisoned by the Enchantress, who now being in despair of her own safety, sought to bring all to misery, as well as herself: At such time as Philotheta was carried from Montelyon in the Hermit's Cell. Constantia remained in such extremity of sorrow, that had not Ila wrought that device to bring Philotheta thither to accompany her, it had been impossible her Senses could have overgrown the extremity of the passion tormented her: but sitting alone in a dark corner, best fitting her sad disposition, she uttered such lamentations as would have turned the flintiest heart of a most cruel Tyrant to remorse: but suddenly espying Ila entered, and with her so beautiful a Damsel, with cheeks bedewed with Crystal tears, that in aboundunce trickled down her face: with that object she left her own laments to pity hers, and seeing them draw nigh to her, she arose after a sad fort, saluting their sad approach. Ila without speaking a word, left them together. Though they were both women, yet both admiring each others beauty, either thinking the other to excel all, and yet had they beheld their own perfections, they might inwardly have conceived as well of themselves, as they did of the outward object.  
Constantia being more familiar with sorrow than Philotheta was, first broke silence, saying Lady, I perceive your tears that constraint, not your consent, hath brought you to this place, beautiful to the eye, but filled with discontents, which long experience hath taught me: therefore if you want a companion in care, accept of my company, but if you seek for comfort abandon me, for my chiefest solace is sorrow, and my very thoughts and meditations of nothing but discontent. I have not (said Philotheta) been long subject to this misfortune: but being now plunged therein, I know not how to release myself, or how to shun the same: neither knowing who is the cause thereof, where I am; or when I shall be released, that my Sorrows are such as may well entertain a sorrowful companion, accepting your proffered kindness, with hearty thanks.  
Lady (said Constantia) as you vouchsafe me your company, so let me know what misfortune hath brought you hither, which will shorten some of the tedious time that we are like to overpasse in this place: Which done, you shall know to whom you have imparted your mind, the recital whereof will be tedious, Philotheta sitting down by her, uttered these speeches. My name is Philotheta, Daughter in law to Amphiador: Upon a day as I was walking in my Father's Garden, upon what pretence I know not, three Giants surprised me, and by force carried me thence, none to my knowledge seeing their cruelty: when they had travailed with me until it waxed late, a Knight armed all in white, gallantly mounted, came to my rescue, and entered Combat with the Giants, his valiant heart not refusing to cop● with all three of them. But one of them thinking himself too strong for him, stayed to combat with him, the other two with haste carrying me away, but in short space one of them ran back to rescue his fellow whom the Knight had slain, himself likewise returning with loss of one of his arms, haling me forwards with violent force, until they came into the midst of a Wood, where they meant to stay that night. This Knight directed by good fortune, alighted on the place where they lay, and by his Valour and policy slew them both, yet so sore hurt himself, that he lay breathless upon the earth, which afflicted my heart with Sorrow, fearing his death, that I could not comfort him in aught by my tears and laments, accounting it more misfortune for me to be the cause of so worthy a Knight's Death, than I myself had been still Prisoner to those Monsters: the Heavens favouring my sorrows and his mishaps, directed an old Hermit to the place, who with the juice of certain herbs recovered him, and with my weak assistance brought him to his Cell, within short space curing him. In which time I noted every part of his perfections, and found them such as I want skill to decipher comparing thereto his behaviour, which bred a persuasion in me, that as he was valiant, so he was virtuous, and as he excelled all that ever I beheld in person, so he did in courtesy. Much conference passed betwixt us, which I omit: The Subject whereof was Love, which he averred to be as constant in him, though new begun as it was in any by long continuance.  
Amongst the rest of his speeches, he told me, that he knew not his Parents, his name was Montelyon: the cause of his travel was in search of a Lady named Constantia, betrothed Wife to Persicles King of Assyria who parted from him that day he rescued me in Arabia. Constantia hearing of such good news of the safety of Persicles, could not withhold herself from bewraying what she was: but taking Philotheta by the hand said, dear Lady, this news addeth much comfort to my despairing Heart, I am that unfortunate Constantia, that till this time have despaired of ever seeing that noble King again, accounting myself so much bound to you, for being the happy reporter of this welcome news, that I protest myself your everlasting Friend, assuring you, that if that worthy Knight that rescued you be Companion to Persicles he is endued with all Heroic virtues: but I pray you tell me out the rest. The worthy Knights speeches (said she) wrought so effectually with me, that I could have been contented to have lived there with him for ever. In the end the Hermit brought in news that Amphiador was hard by in my search, at which news I was very glad, yet also displeased, with knowing his rude behaviour would not suffer him to use the strange Knight kindly. Whilst I was in this thought, three Knights in green Armour entered the Cell, two of them without speaking a word, by force carrying me forth, whilst the third stayed the Knight in Combat, who hastily followed to my rescue: but of a sudden, before I could bethink me what they should be▪ I was within this Garden, where I met her that brought me unto you, who willed me to fear nothing, for here I should remain in safety. With that such a flood of tears gushed from her eyes, that they stopped the passage of her speech, turning the same into silence. Lady (said Constantia) to add more care to my Heart, would overwhelm it with grief, therefore I will omit the Relation of my Tragic History till another time, neither fearing nor feeling care, now I hear of my Lord's safety, who, will set me at liberty from the thraldom I have here endured almost these twenty years. Ila coming to them broke of their conference. After Supper conveying them to a Chamber, where they both lay, continuing some days in much conference of their estate▪ which for brevity sake is omitted.   

CHAP. XXVII. How Montelyon Knight of the Oracle arrived at the Enchanted Tower, called Penthrasus' Palace. And of the controversy that fell between him and the Knights that were come to try the Adventure.  
THe Knight of the Oracle, as it is aforesaid, having lodged all night in the Wood, early the next Morning before Golden Phoebus had beautified the Earth with his brightness, mounted his Steed with an earnest desire to know whose Tents those were, and what Tower it was they had encompassed, he had not rode half an hour, but he approached near unto them, passing amongst them without stay, because he met none to confer withal, he drew towards the entrance of the Bridge, where Constantiaes' Picture hung, which when he had well viewed, he judged by the outward show thereof, what perfections were adherent to the Lady, that was owner thereof, thereby calling to remembrance his Philothetaes' perfections, which in his conceit far surpassed that, but yet the Spell that Ila had cast thereon, wrought so with him, that had not the Virtue of his Armour, and other gifts the Nymphs had bestowed on him, which had power against all Enchantments prevailed, he had surely doted thereon: when he had read the Verses, an earnest desire possessed his heart to redeem that Lady, that neither regarding Danger, nor omitting Opportunity, he took the Horn and wound the same, the Sound thereof made many Knights start from forth of their Tents, being but even then up, and newly Armed: the first, that was mounted, and came to the Bridge: was a noble Knight of Parthia, named Menon, who calling to the Knight of the Oracle, said, Knight enter no farther before thou know whom thou hast offended by thy bold intrusion. He hearing his words turned his Steed saying, if I have offended any it is more than I know but yet I am resolved to try the adventure who so ever says no. Menon said thy strangeness doth privilege thee, because thou knowest not what is concluded among the Knights that are here assembled. Sir (said he) whatsoever agreeth with the Law of Arms I yield unto, and whatsoever courtesy bindeth me to I will perform: therefore let me know what it is I must perform before I pass further? By this time he was encompassed with Armed Knights: and one of them named Linseus, of Arabia, that thought himself too good for all, and vanquished many that had Combated with him, said. Before thou pass further, thou must Combat with us: For the meanest of many that are here assembled, thinketh himself able to perform as much as thee. The Knight of the Oracle wondering at their rudeness, and moved with his discourteous words, said: I am not to be controlled by any, but stand free in mine own choice, to do what I think good: therefore if thou or any here be offended with that I have said or done, Challenge me. I do Challenge thee said Linseus, and I, said Menon: and after them many other, every one desirous to deal with him first. The Prince of Parthia, (named Nessus) stepped forth and said. Fellow Knights, we being all prosessours of Arms, and every one a Partner in this Quarrel, let us cast Lots, and to his share that the Lot, first falleth, let him begin and the rest fellow: With that they all agreed. The Knight of the Oracle thought he should not be Idle, rejoicing that he had so good occasion to make trial of his Valour, The Lot fell to Arnon of Persia to begin. The place, a goodly Plain, in the full view of the Tower: and the time, was within an hour. This being agreed upon, the Knight of the Oracle in the mean time road about the Tower to behold the beauty and Situation thereof, which he admired, and casting his Eye up, he beheld on the Battlement a far off, three Ladies walking together, whom he could scarcely discerne● much less if he had been acquainted with them, know. These Ladies were Constantia, Philotheta, and Ila, that came to behold the Tilts and Attorneys that were daily acted between many and divers Knights before the Tower. Constantia hearing of Persicles safety, and of his being in that Country, hoping thereby in time to been released, desired to behold the Combatants, which before she had always refused to do. The Knight of the Oracle little thinking Philotheta had been one of the three, after he had a while stood to behold them, returned to the appointed place of Combat, where Arnon was then but newly entered with great Pride and the Sound of Trumpets, and a number of followers. Whom the Knight of the Oracle, (notwithstanding all his bravery) overthrew at the first Encounter, to Arnons amazement, and his own glory. That done, the next that encountered him, was Linseus, who held out two courses, but at the third, both he and his Steed lay on the earth. The Knights that beheld this, commended his Valour, yet envied his Fortune. After that he encountered three Knights of Egypt. Then came Nessus' Prince of Parthia, thinking to recover that his Precedents had lost, but his Fortune proved so bad that he lost both his Styrrops, and had he not hung on the Saddle. Bow, he had lain on the Ground. The Day by this time drew to an end, which caused them to remit their further trial till the next Morning. Constantia and Philotheta beholding the Valour of this one Knight, according to her desire, deemed it was Persicles, the other Montelyon: desiring Ila, to send a Messenger to know his Name: Who returning, told them he was called the Knight of the Oracle. Then it is not Persicles (said Constantia.) No, nor Montelyon (said Philotheta.) Their Hearts now fainting with care, that before were revived with hope. The Knight of the Oracle that Night Lodged with a Knight of Persia, named Thymus, in his Tent, who in courteous sort entreated him thereto. Early the next Morning, he again entered the Field, ready for him that should next Encounter him, who came gallantly mounted, having likewise travailed many Miles to try his Fortune in the Adventure: but before he came to try himself therein, he received so great a Discharge, by Encountering the Knight of the Oracle, that in a desperate mood, and ashamed of his Foil, he departed. The Knight of the Oracle being endued with an extraordinary Wit, as receiving the Essence thereof from two such goodly Princes as he was sprung of, began in his thoughts to condemn the fondness of those Knights, that coming to make trial of the Adventure, spent their time in private Quarrels, still omitting that which principally they had sought, his Mind being so troubled with the loss of Philotheta and Persicles, desired not to linger there, but to hasten in their search. Therefore parting towards the Knights, who were assembled on a heap, studying which way to work his disgrace, he said to them. Worthy Knights, my coming to this place, was not to try my Fortune against you, but in the Adventure, and your private Envy hath hitherto hindered me, not regarding into what private Quarrels you enter, and causelessly troubling me, that have not offended you: Therefore because business of more importance then to answer your Spleen, urgeth my departure, I wish you, not fearing my ability to answer you, to remit this private Contention until another time: and if any of you either enviously condemn me, or repine at my good Fortune, I will be ready to answer you several Quarrels in Persia, at the time that is appointed for the meeting of the Kings of Assyria, and Armenia: for the cause of your approach, being to release this Lady's imprisonment, weaken not your force in private Contention: for in the Trial thereof, you shall find occasion enough to exercise your Arms.  
Hearing his words they consented thereunto, yet contending who should first try the Adventure. In the end they agreed to cast Lots: in which the last fell to the Knight of the Oracle: every one having a Day's respite for the finishing thereof. Thus did they make trial of themselves: Some with such labour attaining the Bridge, but then forced by virtue of the Enchantment to yield, and so were imprisoned in most Lamentable wise, by the Envy of Ila, who desired the Enchantment might never end, but that she might live there for ever. Others with fear ran away. Many days it was before it came to the Knight of the Oracles turn: In the end, all being either fledor imprisoned, he alone was left to try his Fortune, neither having Friend to succour him, Foe to Envy him, nor any to behold him: for the Enchantress had made such Desolation among the Tents, by casting fires amongst them, that all the Servants to those Knights, fled as amazed, reporting from place to place their Master's misery, and the cause of their own terror. Notwithstanding, nothing could affright or discourage the valiant heart of the Knight of the Oracle, but he rested as resolute to go forwards, as if there had been no danger incident to the attempt.  
Constantia seeing how many Knights were at that instant imprisoned, all their Tents destroyed, and no man she thought left, began to discomfort herself, utterly despairing of releasement, desiring Ila to let her view the Knights that were Imprisoned, fearing that Persicles was amongst them: but her requests were in vain, for Ila fretted with extreme fear of the end of her Enchantment, in a mad rage flung from them, studying which way to lengthen the date thereof, which tormented poor Constantiaes' heart, that had been so long in misery, and terrified kind Philothetaes' mind with extreme fear of further calamity. Both she and Constantia all that Night bewailing their misery.   

CHAP. XXVIII. How the Knight of the Oracle finished the Enchantment. And how Ila departed with Philotheta.  
IN the Morning early, the Knight of the Oracle, survaying the Situation of the Bridge, which way he might either advantage himself, or disadvantage his Foe, wound his Horn, wherewith there was such an exceeding Earthquake within the Tower, that the Foundation thereof shook as if it would have overturned her stately Turrets. At which first Sound of the Horn, one of the Giants came forth without speaking, striking at him, but he defended himself a great while on Horseback, until the Giant pressed so hard upon him, that he was driven to withdraw him to light. Which when he had done, he again assailed him, giving him many a deep wound, and receiving many a sore bruise, that had not his good Armour preserved him, it had brought him in great danger: but in the end▪ he prevailed so much by the death of the first Giant, that he attained the first and second Fortification of the Bridge. And at the third he was so violently set upon by the other Giant, that he was only compelled to ward his blows, in the end likewise espying such advantage that he ran his Sword quite through his body. By which means, he entered the first large Court, where he beheld the Armours of such Knights as had failed in their sundry attempts, hanging about the Walls, hearing their hollow voices, which by imprisonment had endured much affliction. Ila now knowing that the date of her glory in that place should end, in furious sort came running to the place where Constantia and Philotheta were, taking Philotheta with violence from out of the Arbour, and by force of her Enchantment, compelling her to follow her, until she came to the Court where the Knight of the Oracle was, he suddenly beholding Philotheta, at the first sight knew her: and seeing them so pass by him, towards the Entrance, he stepped after them to speak to her, when presently there rushed upon him a number of Armed men that laid upon him with such swiftness, that they had no power to stir from the place where he stood. They suddenly vanished, and he stood so amazed with the sight, and perplexed with such doubt, that he could not tell what to do: Sometimes thinking to follow in Philotheta: then persuading himself it was but an illusion: and thinking to cast off that doubt, and go forwards, his mind was possessed with such desire to see her again, for that he stood as a man without sense. When suddenly such a Mist darkened all the place, that he could scarcely see his hands, which continued by the space of half an hour. Whilst he remained in such thoughts, sometimes of persuasion it was Philotheta, which troubled his very heart to think what should be become of her, that he seemed to have lost her Senses by the sight of her: remaining in many meditations, the Mist vanished, and the Sun with exceeding Splendour, disclosed the beauty of Penthrasus' Palace. When he saw no further expectation of danger approaching, he entered further, towards the three Gates of Brass, beholding the curious works thereof, through which he entered into the Court, which drew his mind into much admiration thereof. Entering the Hall, he beheld the two Lions (which kept the Passage) that with a fair prospect discovered the beauty of the Garden. The Lions no sooner espied him, but they presently made such a noise with their Roaring, that all the Palace rung thereof. And Constantia hearing the same, cried out, as exceedingly affrighted. The Knight of the Oracle attempted to pass by them, expecting no other but cruel resistance: yet contrary to his thoughts, they laid themselves down at his feet (as it were) reverencing him: Which when he beheld, of his own inclination, he loosed both their Chains, and they ran forth of the Palace with exceeding swiftness, which amazed him to behold.  
Passing through the Hall, he entered the Garden, looking round about, to behold the beauty thereof, when suddenly he began to wonder, that he had beheld never a living creature since he entered, which drove him into an exceeding Admiration, marvailing that he could not behold the Lady of whose Picture he had beheld at the entrance, to that finding himself overwearyed with labour, purposing to rest his Body, he returned into the Hall, and there seated himself in a most rich and costly Chair. Constantia being in the Arbour, beheld when he entered the Garden, and when he went back, marveling what he should be, and little thinking the Enchantment was ended, not daring herself to go forth of the Arbour, her heart was so possessed with amazement, desired one of the Damsels, if she loved her, to go see what he was, and learn the cause of that uproar, which they had heard in the Palace. One of the Damsels being more hardy than the other, told her, how for the Love she bore her, she would adventure, though it cost her her life. Passing on towards the Palace, with such hasty steps, as if something had pursued her, and yet going forwards, as if an evil had been before her, that she could neither tell, whether, wherefore, nor why she went: until of a sudden she mounted the passage into the Hall, and was right before the Knight of the Oracle: Whom when she saw, she stood looking upon him, trembling as if she had been distraught. The Knight of the Oracle, rising from his seat, said: Damsel, fear not, I will defend you from danger, here is none intendeth your harm. The Damsel hearing his voice, was revived, saying: Sir Knight, I marvel what strange accident hath brought you hither, where no Knight hath been these many years? Lady (said he) Fortune and my good Destinies, that have been employed to set you at Liberty. Sir (said she) it is not I, but my Mistress you mean, by whose command I have adventured to see what was happened: to whom if you will vouchsafe to go, I will conduct you. He could remember, it was not her Picture he had beheld, therefore he blushed to be so deceived, but told her, his coming was to do her Lady Service. With that they entered the Garden. Constantia soon espying them, and seeing the Knight come in such peaceable sort with the Damsel, went forth to meet him, he likewise seeing her, sheathed his Sword, his Heart trembling at the first sight of her, by a natural inclination, bearing such a Reverend regard to her majestical person, that when he came nigh her, he did her reverence upon his knee, uttering these words.  
Most Noble Lady, be not disquieted with fear of restrained liberty, for the Date of the Enchantment of thisCastle is finished. Constantia stepping to him, took him by the hand, desiring him not to kneel to her, who was unworthy, but rather had cause to use him, with the like reverence. Most Noble Lady (said he) I have all the Reward I expect: yet grant me one favour (which is) to tell me your Name. Constantiaes' heart at that word leapt within her, which caused an exceeding blush to possess her cheeks, saying: Most Honourable Knight, I were too blame to deny you so small a Request, my Name is Constantia. Then have the Heavens (quoth he) made me Fortunate with beholding you, whom my heart hath ever honoured. Constantia wondered what he should be, assuring herself it was not Persicles, for he would not have asked her name, yet she thought that Sorrow might so much have altered her in the long time of her separation, that on the sudden he could not know her, that her heart was much troubled with those thoughts, till he interrupted them with these speeches. Lady, it may be you suppose me for other than I am, to rid you of which ambiguity, my name is now Knight of the Oracle, which I have but lately been known by, for before I was called Montelyon, brought up in Persia, but whether I was borne there, or who my Parents were, as yet I know not: the cause of my travel into this Country, was in your search, in the Company of my noble Lord Persicles: who for your absence liveth in continual grief: Therefore I beseech you revive your heart from care, and put your confidence in my fidelity: for I will never part from you, until I have brought you to his presence. Constantiaes' Heart with these words was possessed with such joy, as is not to be expressed. And remembering that Philotheta had told her of Montelyon, she said: Most honoured Knight, I have long before this heard of your Honourable friendship shown to my dear Lord Persicles, which maketh me without doubt resolve my whole confidence in you, which came to my hearing by the report of a Lady whom you lately succoured in this Country, named Philotheta. With that he fetched a deep sigh from the bottom of his heart, saying: Indeed I did once enjoy her presence, but whether I shall ever see her again, or where she is, I know not: Yet if I were not deluded, I did behold her departing out of this Castle. It may be so, said Constantia, for she was with me this day, and hath been here this many days, but the Enchantress in great haste, and by violence took her from my company, carrying her I know not whether, by whose kind report of your virtues, I conceive such comfort in their assurance, that I entreat your promise of assistance, and with that shall my heart rest as void of fear, as if I were in the Court of the King my Father in Persia.  
My heart, said she, rejoiceth to hear your kind speeches, vowing to employ my life, and all my being to be at your command. Then they departed into the Palace, with purpose not to tarry there, but instantly to leave the same: but coming into the outer Court, he remembered, that he had heard the voices of men that lay in misery his heart willing to succour them: desiring her not to be offended, if he had made ●ome stay to release them out of Bondage, which he might soon do, when there was none to resist them: She willingly consented, and he in little search found the Keys that opened the Entrance into the Prison, leaving Constantia in place of security, for that he would not trouble her Senses with the smell of the Prison: being entered he found a great number there enclosed, many of them in such poor and distressed estate, that his heart lamented to behold, so fast as he could pulling of their Fetters: at last he beheld Helyon, though to him unknown, whose flesh seemed to be incorporate with the Earth whereon he lay, from whence he could not rise, until he was holpen: who now knew the Enchantment to be finished: repenting himself of the folly he had committed: when he had set them at liberty, and they were come out into the clear light, they with one assent yielded him thanks, vowing themselves his perpetual bounde● friends. Constantia likewise seeing them, wept with grief, that so many should be endangered to set her at liberty. They all proffered their Service unto her, but she desiring not to be known of any, in courteous sort refused the same, reposing her whole confidence in the Knight of the Oracle, who presenting according to her desire, left the Palace, and without the Bridge found his own Steed grazing, in company of others that had lost their Riders: amongst them he took three, on which he mounted Constantia and her two Damsels, hasting to travel so far, as the day's length would permit from the Palace, Lodging that Night in a Village some six Miles distant from the same. The Knights that were released, seeing them departed, likewise betook themselves to travel, except Helyon, who was so Feeble that he could not travel.   

CHAP. XXIX. How the Knight of the Oracle departed with Constantia. How they arrived at Delatus Castle: and how she knew him to be her Son.  
FOr Constantia found such courteous behaviour, and kind assistance, in the Knight, that she remained in great quiet, but noting his countenance, she perceived the same to be darkened with some misty Clouds of discontent, which she supposed to be for the loss of Philo●heta, but yet she concealed her opinion from him: wherein she jumped right on his affirmity, for his heart was pinched with such care for her loss and safety, that it could endure no quiet. But in the Morning when they should depart, they began to consider which way they should travel, or whether they should stay to hear of Persicles there, or go directly into Assyria. Amongst many doubts, they agreed to travel directly into Assyria, where he told Constantia they should assuredly find him, for that the time of the appointed meeting of him and the King of Armenia drew nigh: after many day's travel they came to the place where he remembered he first saw Philotheta, and parted from Persicles, which he revealed not to Constantia, as unwilling to make her privy to his Love: yet he purposed in his journey to visit Amphiador, hoping to find her there, and coming to the Castle, he was welcomed thither by Delatus, that was again restored to his Dukedom. Sir, said the Knight of the Oracle, I had thought this had been Amphiadors Castle. Amphiador did possess it, but indeed the right was mine, and though I have no acquaintance with you, yet I beseech you accept such entertainment as it yieldeth, and if not longer yet for this night, that I may know whom I have Lodged, and you have some knowledge of my affection unto. They both noting with what hearty affection he spoke, being weary with travel, alighted to rest themselves, being kindly welcomed by him and Alsala. After Supper, Delatus began these Speeches.  
Worthy Knight, should I rehearse the whole circumstance of my misfortune, and Amphiadors wickedness, I should both trouble you with the tediousness, and renew my own sorrows: only this, he wrought means to deprive me of this Dukedom, and caused Penthrasus to Enchant me in the Desert, with purpose I should never return: yet he favouring me, bound me there no longer than Constantia should remain Enchanted in the Tower, built by Helyon Prince of Arabia, revealing unto me many Secrets that I will hereafter discover. Not many days since, I found myself freed from this Bondage, whereby he knew that the Enchantment was finished. The same day the Enchantress Jla favouring Amphiador, seeing the date of her power grew to an end, came to this Castle, and with her brought Philotheta, not his, but my Daughter, declaring to him my release, with whom he is fled, carrying Philotheta with them, but whether I knew not: Which I fear me will turn to her great sorrow, for his mind is so apt to cruelty and mischief, that he careth not to act any villainy to satisfy his own mind. I rehearse this unto you, though I know it concerns you not: yet to let you understand that by finishing the Enchantment I was released: Which Ila knowing, gave him knowledge of, and that is the cause of his flight: and also I entreat you to grant me one favour: That is, to let me know whether your Name be not Constantia, for my mind giveth me you are the same. I am (said she) that most unfortunate Creature, and by this Knights noble Valour was I set at liberty, to whom am I most infinitely bound. My heart said Delatus rejoiceth, that I ever had cause to do you any courtesy, and that it was my good fortune to see you in this place, having long wished for your Releasement: not only for mine own good, but for that Noble King Persicles sake, who was with me in the Desert where I lived enthralled since his coming into Arabia, who with earnest resolution determined to spend the date of his life in your search: From which I dissuaded him; and by my directions he returned into Assyria: for the Sequel of your Releasement was revealed unto me by Penthrasus' himself: Which none could achieve but your own Sons, which is this Noble Knight. Nay (said he) doubt not of this, for what he revealed, and I have published is true, though it r●steth not in my knowledge to ●ilate the circumstance thereof. They both wondered at his speeches, and the Knight of the Oracle said; Can I be more fortunate, or hear better News, or receive any comfort that can comfort my heart more than this? O Heavens grant that my joyful hope may not be frustrated, but that I may been assured I am descended of such Noble Parents: Which may be true, for Cothanes often times told me that he found me upon the top of a Mountain, lying in swaddling clothes, and not far from the body of a Woman, torn and dismembered by Wild Beasts, and many jewels about me: One of which I have ever since worn about my Neck: When Constantia saw it, she knew the fame, embracing him in her arms, and kissing him, whilst he with humble behaviour did him reverence. I should be over tedious to recite their joys, and how much Delatus and Alsala made of them, who would not so leave them, but promised to Travel with them into Assyria, where they were assured to meet Persicles: but in such sort that none might know them, for that yet Constantia feared her Father's displeasure. They stayed there but that Night, and early the next Morning betook themselves to travel. Notwithstanding this joy the Knight of the Oracle left some sparks of discontent which troubled all his Senses, and turned his quiet into disquiet, which was with remembrance of Philotheta, whose mishap pinched him to the very heart: Who likewise was not free from the like disquiet, fearing never to see him again, little thinking his Name had been changed, and as little thinking it was he that ended the Enchantment: not only troubled with this Despair, but also vexed with Ilaes' dealing, who having brought her to Amphiador, fled, and was never seen of them again. Amphiador being alone with Philotheta, thought it not good for him to discover himself, lest he thereby should hazard his life: but disguising himself and Philotheta, he left Arabia, and travailed into Persia, thinking to live there until his death undescryed. And finding out an Habitation fit for that purpose, he told Philotheta what he intended, persuading her to abide with him. This troubled her very heart, fearing some greater mischief would follow. Which like wise according to her misdoubt, fell out: For now that he saw no means to recover his Dignity, nor attain other Felicity, then to live in obscurity, his mind being like wise much addicted to Licentious desire, began to dote on Philothetaes' beauty, which burst out into a flame, and he revealed the same i●●his sort.  
Philotheta (said he) if you knew what I would say, or if you could conceive my meaning without words, I would refrain to speak: but since there is no hope for me to live, without I attain that I desire, I will utter to you the depth of my good Will, and the thing that I desire so much you should know, which is, that I love you: this I hope cannot be grievous unto you: Neither will you I trust deny to love me, considering how tenderly I have always regarded you. Should I not (said she, Love you) I were to be accounted very ingrateful, and unworthy to have found you so kind, which bindeth me to yield you thanks. Then (said he,) Let me enjoy that Love, for your Beauty hath pierced my heart, and nothing but the sweet thereof, can ease my torment: Here we may live together, void of disquiet, enjoying each others Love with content, which exceedeth the pleasure that more dignified Honour yieldeth▪ Philotheta at the first knew his meaning, replying with mildness, but her heart so much disdained to yield to that he desired, that she could not contain herself, but gave him this answer. Amphiador, Dost thou think thy wickedness can overmaster my Virtue? Or dost thou think I can like to hear thy odious Speech, that bewrayeth the inward rancour of thy heart? or hast thou beheld such looseness in me, that should animate thee to this dishonourable attempt? or canst thou but conceive an opinion that I will yield to thy wicked lust, which is the fruit of thy ill devising Heart? No, know that I so much abhor thee, that I shall account the worse of myself to have known thee, and curse my cruel destinies, that have made me to see thee, and rather will end my life most desperately, then suffer my Senses, to conceive one good thought of thee. Then leave off where thou hast begun, for thou shalt rather see me massacre myself, then yield to the least part of thy desire.   

CHAP. XXX. How Amphiador, Philotheta, and Praxentia met. How the two Ladies preventing Amphiadors lust, and departed towards Assyria.  
AMphiador walking alone in a solitary place, heard the woeful Lamentation of a distressed Lady, who uttered these words: What misery am I brought into mine own doting folly, upon that unknown Knight, which neither regardeth me, nor I shall never see him again: Fond woman that I am, thus to abandon my Father's Court to live in obscurtty, where I was renowned for virtue: For who heard the name of Praxentia, that did not adore the fame? And who was more reverenced than myself that now have brought my Honour into disgrace? and for the love of a stranger have refused the love of so mighty a Prince as Palian? O Persicles, thee may I curse, for by thy means is he thus absent, and thou hast lost him, or left him where he will never return: Amphiador wondered much to hear her name Persicles, Palian, and Praxentia, which several names he knew, marveling who that should be: but seeing her silent, he drew near to her, saying: Lady, hearing your Laments, I could not choose but pity you: which maketh me thus bold to approach into our company, proffering my assistance to aid you in what I can. My friend (said Praxentia) against my will you are privy to my estate, which if you do pity, than also succour me, for I am brought low by too much grief, and weak for want of sustenance, Lady (quoth he) my Habitation is not far hence, whether I will bring you, where you shall not want any thing you will desire. Being come thither they found Philotheta drowned in tears, the cause whereof he well knew, but Praxentia wondered at it, containing another inward Sorrow, to see so sweet a creature in such sadness. Philotheta likewise marvailed what she was, hoping by her comfort to receive some comfort, which might hinder his practice.  
He on the other side went forth again to meditate, leaving them together, meaning nothing less than to pity either of them, but devising means to attain both their loves, which he was fully resolved to enjoy, though the deed were never so wicked, and the means never so heinous. Praxentia having well refreshed herself with such good food as she had received, demanded Philothetaes' cause of sorrow. Ay me, said she, none so miserable as I, this Tyrant that brought you hither, is my Father in law, whose mind is so wicked that he attempteth to win me to his lust, which addeth much sorrow to my heart, as I am weary of my life: my name is Philotheta, Daughter to the Duke of Ila, whom all men had thought to have been since dead, but he being informed of the contrary by the Enchantress, fled, bringing me hither by force, where he intendeth to keep me as his Bondslave, but the Heavens I hope will ordain some succour to my distress, your help I cannot desire, for that I suppose yourself in the same state I am in (that is) in distress: to remedy which evil, you are fallen into a place, that yieldeth no content, but rather contrarily to ensnare me into more misery.  
Before Praxentia could reply, Amphiador came in, entertained her with many counterfeit courtesies, comforting her with many fair Speeches, protesting so many Services, duties, and promises, as none but one of so impudent a disposition could have found occasion on such a sudden to proffer: the intent of which words Praxentia as fore warned, well understood, fearing some further mischief would follow thereon. That day she could have no farther conference with Philotheta, for he was still in their company. That Night they thought to have lodged together, but he ordered the contrary, by which means, both that night, and for some three days after, they could find no opportunity to utter their minds each to other. In the mean time he was never out of one of their companies, persuading Philotheta to yield her liking, so that he had proffered and using such speeches to Praxentia, as might draw her to a good opinion of him: which when he thought he had affected: one night when Praxentia little thought of such treachery, being overwhelmed in drowsy sleep, he entered her Chamber by a secret way, and coming to her bed side perceiving her sleep so sound, without any more ado, crept into the bed to her: she feeling one in the bed, was so amazed and affrighted, on the sudden, that before he could embrace her, as he intended, she leapt out on the other side, and running to the door opened the same, to whom he called, saying, I beseech you stay. I meant you no harm, by Heaven I will not offer you injury. What villain art thou, said she, that seekest my dishonour? or what wicked pretence drives thee hither at such unseasonable time, and in such audacious sort to affright me? neither intending your dishonour, nor under other pretence then virtuous, came your poor Servant Amphiador into your presence, but only with thankfulness, to make manifest unto you my hearts true affection: therefore I beseech you shun me not, nor suspect me not, for my heart will sooner see itself torn in pieces, then think a thought to wrong your worthiness: would I be so mad as trust thee (said she) thou mightest well repute me for immodest, and well might I blame myself if I sustained wrong: therefore for this time I will leave thee.  
With that she made fast the Door, and hasted to Philothetaes' Lodging, knocking very hastily, withal calling aloud Philotheta, Philotheta, let me in, she being a sleep, was half amazed with the noise, not daring at the first or second call to open the Door: but when she perceived it was a woman's voice, she opened the door, which was no sooner open, but Praxentia stepped in, desiring to make fast the same again. Which done, fear made Praxentia so muse, that until she had reassumed her memorial Senses to their proper use, she could not speak a word. Whilst Philotheta with much sorrow beheld her ecstasy, of demanding the cause thereof: At last, she declared how Amphiador had used her. O most detestable Villain, said Philotheta, will the Fates suffer him to proceed in his blindness and not cut him off? Or can we devise no good means to avoid his intent? Lady, said Praxentia, do but join with me, and you shall soon see, that betwixt us we will rid ourselves out of his tyranny, O Lord, said Philotheta, I shall think myself the most happiest woman living, and for ever honour you, if by your counsel and help I may attain this felicity. Then said Praxentia, do but this next night by some means convey his Swords into my Chamber and there hide yourself in secret until I come, in the mean time I will deal so with him this day, that he shall again come to my Chamber, without suspect of our intent, but with mere hope to attain my love: where, when he is come, I will so work with him that either we will by cunning out reach him, or sheathe the same into his Bowels. All this said Philotheta, will I constantly perform. Early the next Morning Philotheta fetched Praxentiaes' Apparel, which when she had put on, she went down where she knew Amphiador was: who espying her, presently came to her, desiring her to pardon his last Night's oversight. Sir (said she) I was disquieted therewith more than I needed, considering you meant me no violence, as you protest: but it was a great folly in you to come at so unseasonable a time, and not make the party acquainted therewith. Pardon me, I humbly desire you, said he, and withal pity me that am ensnared in the bands of Love to your beauty, which will be most pleasing to my senses, and preserve my life, and whatsoever you shall demand me in recompense thereof, I will perform.  
Many such speeches he used, and she counterfeited many faint denials, which yet was intermingled with such hope, that he perceived she would yield: and therefore he the more earnestly entreated, vowed, swore, and protested to win her consent, which at last according to her appointment, she granted, but with such conditions as furthered the purpose of their intended revenge. He joyful thereof left her, and she went to Philotheta declaring every circumstance, how she had dealt with him. When Night approached, he left their company, and went walking abroad, to meditate on his ensuing pleasure, thinking by that he returned, they would be parted to their several Lodgings. In which time Philotheta conveyed into the Chamber two Swords, which was all the Weapons which was in the House, and hid herself closely from being seen. When he thought it time, he came to the Chamber door, where he found Praxentia very ready to let him in, whose heart faintly trembled with fear at the sight of him, but yet she shook it off, with as much courage as might be in a Woman. When he was entered and the door made fast, having first embraced her with a lascivious kiss, which we patiently endured, void of doubt by reason of her promise, he went to Bed, whilst she stood trifling, as if she had been most buisily undressing herself. When she saw him in Bed, she came to the Bedside, giving him a betraying Kiss, uttering these words. Amphiador (said she,) How much do I now differ from Chastity, that must yield to violate the same without the holy Rites of Marriage, wherein I shall cast away myself, and make my Name in Oblique in the whole World, if you forsake me, of whose faith I have no assurance? Tush (quoth he) fear not, but come to Bed, then will I make thee so faithful a Promise, that thou shalt rest there with contented. That were (said she) to yield possession before, and afterwards repent. By my Soul (said he) I will dot do so much as touch you before I be licenced by your free consent. Then (said she,) for my better assurance let me bind your hands, and then I will without delay come to you. He accounted that request to proceed from bashful Fear, not from policy: thinking though his Hands were bound, he should be good enough for her with his Legs, he granted it. Then she took a Scarf which she had brought of purpose, and therewith bound his hands so fast, that it was impossible for them to undo them. Which done, Philotheta stepped forth, delivering one of the Swords to Praxentia, and holding the other against his Breast, said: Now Amphiador, What hath thy lewdness brought thee unto, but to misery: thinkest thou (that hadst no mercy in seeking our dishonour) shalt find Remorse in us to work revenge? Nay villainous Traitor (said Praxentia) should we suffer so vile a miscreant to live, we should do a wicked deed: for a man of thy impious condition will infect the World. Art thou so treacherous as thou carest not what Laws thou violatest, and yet so simple to be over reached by a silly Woman? yet know whom thou hast offended, and to whom thou wouldst have none violence. Know I say Traitor that my Name is Praxentia, Daughter to the King of Persia, that will work revenge upon thee, worthy thy heinous Act. Philotheta marvailed when she heard her Name, and he lay confounded with shame, his Coward heart fainting with such fear, that with little violence it would have been overcome. To make him more sure, the one of them bound his feet, whilst the other stood ready to stab him if he stirred: Which done, they withdrew themselves, consulting which way to be rid of him. Most Noble Lady (said Philotheta) your Prudence hath set us at liberty from this Tyrant, whom (so if please you) we will leave in this place, and not stain our Innocent hands, with shedding such impure blood. But said Praxentia, how shall we escape from hence? Easily (said she) for leaving him fast bound, there is none to pursue us, but we may with safety travel whether it please you. When they had thus concluded, Praxentia came to him, uttering these Speeches, Amphiador, we cannot as yet resolve how to work sufficient Revenge upon thee, therefore make no exclamation, but with patience abide our will, which will be too favourable: for if we hear thee but once open thy mouth, we will in such sort use thee, that thou shalt wish thou hadst followed our directions. Which said, locking fast the doors they left him. Then they began to consult, what to do, Praxentia saying; Lady, it may be your determination is to return into Arabia, which will be an occasion of our ●eparation. For my purpose is to journey into Assyria, upon an occasion that concerneth me no less than my life: which I shall reveal unto you, upon your promise of Secrecy. I were not worthy to live (said she) would I reveal your Counsel. Then did she repeat to her, her Love to Montelyon, and how Palian crossed the same, until his departure with Persicles, Philothetaes' heart melted within her to hear that Speech, fearing to be disappointed of her intent, and misdoubting his Constancy, being troubled with extreme anguish that so great a Princess should be her Corrival: sometimes despairing with a conceit that Montelyon did not esteem her according to his speech, and her own persuasion, but that he proffered his love to her of a customable common courtesy, to try her, not of affection. Many other cogitations suddenly concurred in her brain, but seeing Praxentia except a Reply, without further meditation she made this Reply. Most Noble Princess, if you will accept of my company, I will in regard of your courtesy undeservedly shown to me, venture myself with you, and do my best to further you in attaining your desire. Praxentia was glad thereof. And with this resolution in the Morning they left that place▪ travailing towards Assyria, changing their Vpper-Garments, to Palmers-gray, the best means so pass without molestation.   

CHAP. XXXI. How the Knight of the Oracle, Constantia, and the rest, hearing a lamentable cry, found Amphiador starved to death.  
AMphiador lay all that day upon the Bed bound, sometimes persuading himself they meant him no harm, and again adding doubt to that persuasion, because of Praxentia: but when it grew to be night, he marvailed they came not again: then he began to suspect, that which was true indeed, that they were departed, which vexed him so much, that he would have destroyed himself if he could have found means: continuing the length of that uncomfortable Night, in cursing his own Fortune and Folly, that had brought him to that misery: thinking to his greater discomfort, either to starve there without food, or to preserve his Life by eating his own flesh, and so die a lingering death. Some four days after, Fortune so brought things to pass, that the Knight of the Oracle, Delatus, Constantia, and Alsala, with many others in their company, having lost their way, lighted on this uncomfortable place, where Amphiador lay for want of food, making such outrageous lamentation, that it pierced the Ears of the Knight, who first hearing the same, set Spurs to his Steed, entering the house, the doors whereof he found open, and drawing his Sword, he found the Chamber from whence that piteous cry proceeded, fast locked, which he broke open, and found Amphiador in such a lamentable plight, that the Water stood in his eyes. Amphiador seeing him, cried out to him for meat, as the thing he most wanted. What art thou, said he? My Name (quoth he) is Amphiador, wicked Amphiador, that for my sin endures this punishment. The Knight of the Oracle presently unbound him, and went with him down to search for Victuals, which Amphiador soon found. By this time Delatus and the rest were entered, and Amphiador suddenly espying Alsala, whom he knew was so astonished, that he fell down dead. Farewell said the Knight of the Oracle, hadst thou died sooner, than should not some have had cause to complain of thy tyranny. They made short tarriance in this place, for that it yielded so little comfort, but again travailed towards Assyria.   

CHAP. XXXII. How the Emperor of Persia and Macedonia met, to conclude the peace between Persicles and the King of Armenia. How Persicles erected a Pavilion to entertain all strangers. And how the Knight of the Oracle and Constantia arrived there: How Persicles discovered them: and of the exceeding joy was made for their safety. And how Persicles knew the Knight of the Oracle to be his own Son, and was afterward married to Constantia.  
THe Emperors of Persia and Macedonia, according to the Peace ratified betwixt Persicles & the King of Armenia, met at the City of Pisos, where they were received by Persicles in such honourable, bountiful, and courteous sort, as is not to be described. This City Pisos bordereth on the utmost Confines of Assyria, not above a furlong distance from Armenia, on the edge whereof likewise stood the City of Lisar, rich and populous where the King of Armenia then lay: between those two Cities, was so large a Valley of Plains, that the fair prospects of both the Cities lay open to each others view: in the midst of this Valley were the Royal Tents of Persia and M●cedonia pitched, and about them a number of Tents of gallant Knights, that came to bear them company: the Cities were both of them Fortified with Garrisons of Soldiers, to prevent all occasions of injury that might be offered on either party. The Emperor of Macedonia likewise brought with him his three Sons. Mentus, Drurus, and Thetus, his Empress, his fair Daughter Sabina, in whose company were the choice Ladies of Macedonia. And such Troops of valiant Knights, that all the Valley was filled with their Tents and Pavilions. Persicles trusting to the assurance Delarus had given him of Constantiaes' release, caused all the beautiful Damsels in Assyria to be brought before him electing out of them a hundred, for whom he caused most costly attires of White to be prepared and delivered to each of them. He caused also a most stately Pavilion to be erected in the view of all the rest, of such costly and curious work, that all that beheld it admired the rare Workmanship thereof. Over the Door of this Pavilion were these Verses written in Letters of Gold.  
Honour, Valour, and Virtue, guard this place,  
Where Harbour is for all that those embrace:  
An absent Knight of honoured Gifts and Fame,  
Shall be their Host, Montelyon is his Name.  
here boldly enter, repose, and feed,  
For Love to him, made Persicles do this deed,  
Who so he be, can tell where he remains,  
Shall have a principal gift to quite his pains.  
Persicles intent in doing this was, that whatsoever Stranger came, that had not good Provision of his own, should there find Entertainment in Honour of Montelyon: in whose memorial, he had built the same, as a remembrance of his Love and Favour. His intent being to draw all strangere thither, (by whose report hoping he might hear some News of his beloved Friend Montelyon: Travel within few days had brought the Knight of the Oracle, and his Company into Assyria, where they met with an Assyrian of whom the Knight of the Oracle, demanded whose Tents were those they beheld. He declared so much as he knew: Where may we have Lodging, said he? Not within a City, answered the Assyrian, for thither are none permitted to come without examination? But in the midst among those Tents there is one Pavilion, the most beautifullest that ever Eye beheld, built in remembrance of the Noble Knight Montelyon, that freed our Country from the Armenians oppression: in which place all that are strangers, and without provision of their own have Entertainment in his remembrance. Wilt thou direct us thither (said he) and I will reward thee? I will (said he.) When they were come thither according to the Assyrians report, they were honourably entertained, and Lodged in such sort as themselves desired. And for that it was very late, every one departed to their place of rest, remitting conference until the next Morning.  
Early in the Morning the Knight of the Oracle, Arming himself mounted his Steed, and road up and down until it was Noon to behold the Tents, and beautiful Situation of those two Cities, and some Tilts & Attorneys that were performed by certain Knights. Returning at Noon to confer with Constantia his Mother about the discovery of them to Persicles. Persicles hearing that many strangers were in Montelyons Pavilion, that day he disguised himself into the habit of one of his own men, only to view them, and to see whether his Servants used them so honourably as he intented they should. And coming into the room where Constantia, the Knight of the Oracle, Delatus and Alsala was, at the first sight he knew Delatus and Montelyon, which was called the Knight of the Oracle, and viewing well Constantia, he likewise at the first sight knew her: Then did he immediately believe that the Knight of the Oracle had released her, which was Montelyon: which Delatus told him should be finished by his own Son. These joys concurring, filled up his Senses with such delight, that he was enforced to withdraw himself from being discovered, which at that time he would not be. Altering his disguise again, and without further deliberation, he went to the King of Persiaes' Tent, and finding him in a convenient place, he uttered these kind words. Most renowned King, the Friendship and help I have received by your favour, without any merit of mine own, hath made me most infinitely bound to your Excellency: yet nevertheless, I must request one further favour at your hands, which you may with more safety grant, then deny, and thereby also make me and yourself happy. My loving Friend, said he, whatsoever it be, I will not deny it you. I make the more doubt (said he) because I have heard you vow the contrary, and yet should you perform that vow, it would procure you much discontent. A rash vow, (said he) may be broken, and therefore let me know your request, and it may be I will dispense therewith. My desire is, you would pardon Constantia your Daughter, and remit the offence committed by her, and him that caused her to leave the Persian Court. Why my Lord (said he) do you know where she is? First, I beseech you grant my request, and then I will reveal unto you all that I know. For your sake, said he, I will freely accept her into my favour. Then I most humbly thank you (said he) both for her and myself: For it was my most unhappy self, that was the cause of her departure, but since that time I have not seen her until this day. For going to the Pavilion, which is named by Montelyon: this day I espied her there, in company of Montelyon, which is called Knight of the Oracle: The King of Persia rejoiced to hear that News, which pleased him so well, that he could not choose but reveal it to the Empress, who was ready to run forth of her Tent to see her. The Emper●●r and Empress with a goodly Train, accompanied by Persicles, who had sent for the hundred Damsels, and most of the Peers of Assyria, to welcome Constantia, with great royalty, went to Montelyons Pavilion, the Emperor and Empress going before, and he coming after: that when their greetings were passed he might have the more liberty to embrace Constantia. They entering the room where Constantia was▪ conferring with Montelyon, knew her, and she them, and falling prostrate on her knees before them, whilst they welcomed her with such kindness▪ as if they had never conceived offence against her. Whilst they welcomed the Knight of the Oracle, Persicles embraced Constantia, each weeping for joy.. Oh God, said Persicles, never was I blest whilst this good happy hour, after so much sorrow, to enjoy such pleasure. Montelyons approach brake of his Speech, who kneeled before him. Nay my dear Friend, said Persicles, kneel not for I am not worthy to be so honoured. My Lord (said Delatus) well may he do it, for he is your own Son, which you need not doubt of, for he freed his Mother, which none but himself could have done. More Honour, joy, Comfort, and Content, (said Persicles) could never have happened to any Mortal man, then doth this day to me, to find a Father, a Wife, and a Son, that this day knew not I had either Father, Wife, or Son: one so honourable and magnificent, the other so virtuous, beautiful, and loving, and the last so valiantly, virtuous, magnanimous and prudent, that all the World's wealth cannot countervail my Riches. And turning to the Emperor, kneeling down with them, he said. Renowned Emperor, I beseech you accept us three as your Children, and into your favour, remitting all displeasure conceived against us. Then did the Emperor and Empress, and Deloratus and Piera all embrace them, shedding tears of joy for this happy meeting. The Nobles welcomming the Knight of the Oracle, and the Lady Constantia, and such joy was made on every side as is not to be expressed. And parting from thence towards the City in great Royalty, they were welcomée●d thither by the Citizens, Nobles, Merchants, and Artisans, with great Royalty, where the Emperor used these Speeches.  
See here my Friends of Assyria, your Liege Lord and Sovereign, the Son of Constantia my Daughter, and your Lord Persicles: How may you applaud the bounty of Heaven, providing for you such a Noble Prince: Then taking Constantia by the hand, he said: Here Persicles take my Daughter, I give her thee, as freely as the Heavens gave her me, that Marriage may join hands, as true Love hath united your Hearts many years since. He took that gift with as great joy, and in as high estimation, as if he had delivered him the whole World's Monarchy, saying: Most mighty Emperor, I know not how to render sufficient thanks, in that your Highness is pleased to enrich and honour me with your worthy Daughter which is the only thing I always desired: For which, I hope to show such deserts hereafter, as neither she shall be discontented, nor your Majesty repent your gentle deed.   

CHAP. XXXIII. How the two Ladies Philotheta and Praxentia, arrived at the Pavilion, and how Philotheta discovered to Montelyon, Praxentiaes' Love to him, to make trial if he loved her, whom she herself most entirely loved.  
THe end of this day's joy had brought the two Ladies Praxentia and Philotheta after long Travel unto the City Walls, where (in their Palmer's Weeds) they heard the News, and saw the Triumph, where the Knight of the Oracle bore a way the prize, whom they were informed to be Montelyon, and Son to Persicles and Constantia: This News affected both their hearts with exceeding joy. Praxentia hoping to enjoy his Love, and Philotheta purposing to live no longer, then to live in hope to do the like: taking the Entertainment of the Knight of the Oracles Pavilion, which yielded them such security as they desired. Praxentia bethinking herself of a course to effect her desire, broke her mind to Philotheta in these Words. Lady Philotheta, I am more beholding unto you for undertaking this travel for my sake, than I shall ever live to requite: Notwithstanding, for that my passions crave pity and your good help, I beseech you aid me in this extremity, I have made my Name and Fortunes known unto you, and how it will been in vain for me to stay, for should I manifest my Love, it would turn to my everlasting dishonour, I will therefore only make my being here known to none but the Knight of the Oracle, which shall be done by this means, if you will for my sake undertake it. In this habit you may as safely go without being known, as if you had never been seen, and finding him out, give him knowledge of my being here, of my love, and of the Misery I have endured for his sake, uttering the same in such form of words, as shall best like you: this will be the means to bring me comfort: and if for my sake you will take this pains, I will hereafter prostrate myself at your feet, Philotheta promised her that she would do it the next day, whatsoever ensued thereon, as faithfully as she did desire, and if it were but to try his Constancy.  
Early in the Morning, Philotheta disguising herself so cunningly that she could by no means be known, left the Pavilion to seek opportunity to deliver her Message: and coming to the City Gates with a premeditated excuse, if she were examined, where she found no resistance, but coming to the Palace, she entered into the great Hall, where she stayed to see the Royalty of the Court, until she espied the Knight of the Oracle, only attended by his Page, passed by into the Garden, her Maiden feet treading chaste steps after him, until he looking back, espying a Palmer follow him, stayed, with courteous speech demanding if he would speak with him. Who said: Knight of the Oracle. I have a matter of secrecy to deliver unto you. The most virtuous, beautiful and constant Lady Praxentia, whom you well know, having ever since she saw you first, loved you, though without comfort, enduring much sorrow for your absence, regarding more her love to you▪ than her own Life, Parents and Country, and hath for your sake left her Pomp and dignity to live in sorrow and misery to find you out, who remaineth now in the Pavilion, where for your sake all strangers are harboured, in such sorrow and anguish, as did you but behold the same, your virtuous mind could not choose but pity her. This am I bold to utter unto you, not sent hither, but in pity of her, and to do you good, she being the only Daughter of the mighty Emperor of Macedonia. Palmer (said he) I commend thy good meaning, and wish that I could follow thy counsel, which bringeth much disquiet to my heart: I pity her more than she doth herself, and could wish not to have been borne, rather than she should do herself wrong, for my sake: she is worthy to been beloved, and I not the Honour she intendeth me: yet can I not without as great and greater torment (than she endureth) after my affections that are already settled, where I yet reap no hope of comfort, and am kept from by many difficulties, that maketh me equal to her in sorrow. I speak not this with intent you should tell it her, for that were to make her more desperate, if your words be true: but I fear me, you are sent by her, which if it be so, you shall do me wrong, and her no good, therefore I pray you dissuade her if you can, for a stranger's counsel in such matters may prevail much: and if you can bring me News that she hath revolted from this Love, I shall think myself most happy. Sir, said the Palmer, I would return to you again, if I knew which way I might conveniently come to speak with you: I will be (said he) to morrow without the City about this time, hoping to hear better news of her by thy persuasions: Then giving the Palmer a Rich jewel for his pains, they parted, Philotheta out of the Palace, and he into the Garden, meditating on that which he had heard. Philotheta by this time was returned to the Pavilion, uttering the whole sum of the conference she had with the Knight of the Oracle unto Praxentia: With which she was so grieved, that Philotheta expected when she would have yielded up the Ghost, fearing that she would have run mad, which to prevent, she said. Be not so impatient, but harken to my counsel. I have appointed to come to him to Morrow, at which time I will deal so effectually with him, that he shall come and speak with you. When seeing your Laments, there is no doubt but he may be won to consent.  
This somewhat satisfied Praxentia, yet her Mind was so full of grief and vexation, that her eyes could take no rest, with such affection she expected the next News. Philotheta was not void of care, as she had good cause, undertaking a matter against herself, yet to make assured trial of his Constancy, she did it, but being alone, she meditated on the doubtful issue of this attempt, which would bring her either much joy or Sorrow: sometimes persuading herself, it was herself he loved, that he was constant, and that no persuasions could alter him: yet she thought Praxentiaes' Birth, Beau●y, and Laments, might overcome him, and the rather for that he had no assurance of her Love, nor ever to see her again. Thus did this fair Lady torment herself with contrarieties of doubts, longing as much, or rather more than Praxentia, for the next Morning's speech.   

CHAP. XXXIV. Of the Treasons practised against the Knight of the Oracle.  
NOw the King of Armenia seeing such a League concluded by means of this Marriage between the Emperors of Persia, and Persicles, envying his good, thought that he was likely to prevail nothing against him by means thereof, called unto him a Knight, whom he most favoured, and had always been counselled by named Cisor, and unto him he uttered his discontent, who presently counselled him to break the Peace, and suddenly to surprise the City. The King liked not that counsel, but rather desired by some secret means either to poison Persicles and the Knight of the Oracle: or else to set some discord between them and the Emperor of Macedonia, by which means the Peace might be broken, and the ambiguity of the doubt be left unended, whereby he might renew his war, Cisor promised to perform something to that effect: who presently, finding out Palian, uttered his mind to him in these words. Noble Prince, I marvel that you suffer your glory to be darkened by this up start Knight, that nameth himself of the Oracle. Can it be that so honourable a mind as yours should brook such indignities? Is not Assyria yours by right, are you not more Noble by Birth? are you not every way as worthy to be as famous as he is? You live here in security, suffering him and his Father that scorneth you, to carry away the Palm and prize of Honour Are all the Knights in Armenia too weak to cope with him? Doth not his behaviour show that he scorneth you? Hath he not alone crossed your good Fortune, then live not to be laughed at, but to revenge. join you with the Emperor of Macedoniaes' Sons, who are of the same mind I am, and I will lay you down such a plot as shall abate his bravery. If these Knights and such as are now come out of M●cedonia and Persia, cannot foil them, then shall you live in contemn of the World, and be accounted their inferior. Cisor (said he) thou renewest my grief a fresh, for I have drunk so much of sorrow in that kind of discontent, that my heart is overcome therewith, and would fain work my releasement. If you would been secret, and swear to assist me. I would reveal you the whole depth of my heart: upon his protestations, he revealed his love to Praxentia, and how he was crossed by Montelyon, and withal, what had passed since, and of her escape out of Persia, which she did only for his love that regarded her not, and how much he desired means of revenge: his mind being apt to entertain any complot were it never so dishonourable, Cisor then said, confer with the Emperor's So●s, and discover to them with what earnestness Praxentia hath sought his love, and receiving scorn for her affection, and disdain for her goodwill, hath in a desperate sort (ashamed to be so rejected) stole from the Court of the King of Persia, either to destroy himself, or wilfully to live in perpetual exile: when they hear this, their hearts will easily be won to revenge her wrong: which done, let them alone to meditate thereon. Cisor having in this sort whetted him on, left him, which so much prevailed, that he put the same in practice with the Emperor's Sons, that they began mortally to hate Montelyon. Agreeing to arm themselves in such Armour as none but Cisor should know them, and for some few days to lodge in the Pavilion, and there to devise which way to work him some disgrace. Upon this conclusion they parted, every one to provide themselves of Armour for that purpose.   

CHAP. XXXV. How the Knight of the Oracle, arrived at the Pavilion, disguised to satisfy Praxentia. How he was discovered by Palian, how Palian and the King of Macedoniaes' Sons would have murdered him. How he slew one of them, and was accused by Praxentia of a Rape, which broke the concluded League.  
THe time being come, and Philotheta not failing, met the Knight of the Oracle to do her Message. How now Palmer said he, dost thou bring me news that Praxentia hath given over her love? If thou hast tell me, if not, I pray thee trouble me not. My Lord (said Philotheta) she rageth most extremely, and I fear me, will do herself some violence unless you pity her. That cannot I do (said he) although it pincheth my heart to hear of her sorrow: what should I say more? or what wouldst thou wish me to do, to ease her and yet reserve my loyalty? Sir, replied Philotheta, may you consider that she is honourable, virtuous, fair, and the Daughter of a King worthy to be beloved, and it may be the Lady whom you love, is not comparable to her in any of these gifts: No, nor in love, which may peradventure love another, and then shall you wrong yourself and injury her, expecting that which you have no assurance of.  
Peace Palmer quoth he, if my fortunes prove so bad, the greater will be my misery: therefore tell me what thou wouldst have me do: my Lord (said she) had I not promised her to bring you to speak with her, she would have destroyed herself ere this: therefore vouchsafe me such favour, that I may perform my word, which may be a means to end this malady. Didst thou know (quoth he) how unwilling I am to do it, I think thou wouldst not request it: but to satisfy her of that, which peradventure she will not credit by thy report, and at thy request, I will come to her this evening. Till than farewell quoth he. Philotheta being parted from him, by the way uttered these speeches. O that fortune would favour me so much, and bless me with that felicity, to be the party this worthy Knight so constantly loveth. By this she was come to the Pavilion, where even then there entered four Knights in black Armour, gallantly mounted, by their outward habit portended some fatal stratagem: which were Palian and the three Sons of the King of Macedon, who had vowed either secretly or openly to plot the death of Montelyon: taking up their Lodging there to complot their treason. The day being past, which the Knight of the Oracle overpast in many solitary meditations, to the great grief of Persicles and Constantia, who wondered thereat he went to his Chamber, apparelling himself in the habit of one of the King's Servants, only girding his Sword to his side, went unto the Pavilion, concealing himself as closely as he could, but the Heavens ordaining him to endure some misery, and as the eyes of envy and suspicion, discovering him to Palian, who espied his coming thither, and being entered the Pavilion, he was met by Philotheta, who with such carefulness expected his coming, conducting him into the place, where Praxentia was, which went so sore against her heart to do, that with very grief she was ready to die: whither treacherous Palians eyes watched him. Praxentia espying him, could not abstain from blushing exceedingly, her own heart accusing her of immodesty, to reveal that which we would have concealed. He saluted her, uttering these words. Most noble Princess, to fulfil your desire, and show my gratitude unto you for your Friendship bestowed on him that is not worthy thereof. I am come to you desiring you not to misconceive of me, nor condemn me of inhumanity, that am not mine own, and therefore I cannot give myself unto you. I have uttered unto the Palmer that which I will now conceal as loath to offend you, yet constrained thereto, desiring you to command my life, if you please, for that shall be at your disposition otherwise I cannot employ myself to your liking. I have long since known of your good will to me, which Palian by his subtlety increased, of whose Love and proceedings I know so much that I think: I shall wrong him to fulfil your request: myself was the man that should have joined your hands, when he took my habit and name upon him which I presume here to utter, that thereby you may remember my innocence in that complot, and how constantly I have vowed myself to another.  
Praxentia what with anger, shame, and grief, stood like one mute, vexed that he knew of Palians act, shame to make love contrary to the property of her kind, and grieved to be disappointed: all which together not suffering her to speak, until at last these passions, and her burning Love so overcame her, that kneeling down, she said.  
Good Knight blame me not, nor do not condemn me of immodesty, but grant pity to my torment. He taking her up, desired her not to kneel to him that was not worthy thereof, nor able to deserve it: then taking him by the hand, she desired him to sit down by her upon the bed, beckoning Philotheta to depart the room.  
To repeat what manner of behaviour Praxentia used, and the words he spoke, would have made any modest ear to blush to hear of: but seeing that nothing could prevail, rage and lust so over ruled her, that in bitter exclaims she cried out: Inhuman, disloyal, and dishonourable Knight, dost thou require my Love with this disdain? Or thinkest thou I will live to bear the blot of thy refusal? At the conclusion of which words, Thetus entered the room, and with his Sword drawn, ran at him, who by good Fortune beholding him, started aside, otherwise he had been slain yet he was sore wounded, wherewith he drew his sword, striking at Thetus, and at every blow wounding him. Philotheta hearing the noise, came in and seeing the Knight of the Oracle wounded, with fear, grief, and amazement cried out, help, help, the King's Son ●ill be murdered. The Echo o● her shrill voice sounded throughout the whole Pavilion, and both the Servants and other Knights came running thither, but before they came, he had gotten Thetus, and overthrown him, thrust his Sword into his Body. By this time Palian and his two Brethren came in, who seeing Thetus slain cried out: Stay the Traitor, he hath murdered Thetus, Son to the King of Macedonia. Praxentia hearing that, tore her hair, rend her Garments, and disfigured her face in such fort as was Lamentable to behold. Some began to lay hands on the Knight of the Oracle, but his Father's Servants knowing him stood in his defence: Then began there a hot Combat on both parts, and many were slain. Praxentia being now discovered, was known to Palian and her two Brethren, to whom she cried; Revenge my shame, and my Brother's death on this wicked Knight, who seeketh by violence to dishonour me, hath slain my Brother? What grief was this to Philotheta you may judge: and how much it vexed him to be thus betrayed, cannot be uttered: standing in his own defence, against such as would have apprehended him, that knew him not, until he was grievously wounded, and many of them slain, in which time news thereof was come to the hearing of Persicles, the Emperor of Persia, and the King of Macedonia, who with all haste came thitherwards: The Soldiers like wise hearing of the Knight of the Oracles distress, broke the conditions of the concluded Peace, and by Multitudes ran forth of the City to preserve them. Persicles first entered the Tent, next him the Kings of Persia and Macedonia, giving commandment upon pain of Death, that no man should strike a blow. Yet notwithstanding, rashness and heady force so overcame them, that it was long before they were appeased. And the Emperor seeing Praxentia there, in such sort disfigured, demanded if any could tell the cause of that mischief: First Praxentia spoke being most guilty, yet first thinking to excuse herself: Noble Emperor, my brother you see is slain in rescuing me from that Knight's violence. The Knight of the Oracle kneeling down before the Emperor, said: My noble Grand father, I slew him in mine own defence▪ neither did I know what he wa● being myself trained hither to my death. More he would have said, but the Soldiers having entered the Pavilion, r●sted not until they had gotten unto him, and he to satisfy them, and avoid further mischief, departed with them to the City. Then did the Emperor and Persicles comfort the King of Macedonia, but he vexed with his Son's death, and his Daughter's disgrace, and urged by his others Sons importunacy, said: Emperor of Persia, I am now much wronged, and too much abused by thee and thy Progeny, by whose falsehood I see my Children lie dead before my face: How should I then be contented? By Heaven I swear, I will revenge this villainy. King of Macedonia (said Persicles) I defy thee, for accusing me or mine of any dishonour, and thou shalt see and find this Accusation is false; why else are thy Sons here disguised, with my enemy Palian? by whose complot this mischief, was pretended against my Son, though the punishment lighted upon themselves.   

CHAP. XXXVI. Of the grief Philotheta endured for this misfortune. How she was taken, and carried to the Armenian Host. Of Raleaes misfortune: And the Message she delivered to the Knight of the Oracle.  
PHilotheta seeing how unfortunately all things fell out▪ withdrew herself out of sight, and in bitter exclaims lamented her hard fortune, but most of all that she was the cause of Montelyons coming thither, which had so near endangered his life. Therefore she shrouded herself until it was night, which being come, she traveled further into the Country, and there by selling a jewel, and good fortune, not being descried, she altered her old habit into her right form, staying certain days in a Village, some six miles distant from the City of Pisos, in the house of an ancient Lady named Ralea, to whom she related her misfortunes, procured by Amphiador, concealing her Love to Montelyon, which she durst not commit to her serresie. This Ralea being a woman of great wisdom, used Philotheta wondrous kindly, promising in words, and her deeds showing it, that if she would stay with her, she would as dear tender her, as her own Daughter, whom she caused continually to accompany Philotheta. She rejoiced at this good Fortune, and being alone she uttered these speeches. Praxentia, thee only may I accuse for this misery, for whom I undertook a task, which my heart even then abhorred, and now repent, not so much inte●nding to procure thee that thou desiredst, as to satisfy my own disquiet Senses, by the same means having drawn the most loyal Knight into danger of his life, whose blood thou didst seek to spill, else wouldst thou not so dishonourable and falsely have accused him. The consideration of which stratagem, drew such a flood of tears from her eyes, that she could not stop their passage. Which Ralea espying, demanded the cause thereof, but seeing Philotheta make no reply, she said, Philotheta, I pity your estate, and would gladly know the cause, that I might use my endeavour to comfort you, Philotheta trusting to virtue, disclosed to her the love he bore to Montelyon, and all that passed betwixt her and Praxentia, as is before rehearsed. Ralea thereby noting her beauty, commended the same: promising her, that if with patience she would quiet herself some few days, she would use all means possible to comfort her.  
Montelyon having recovered his wounds, gathered together a mighty host, and brought them unto the City of Pisos, whither were assembled the choice Soldiers, Noblemen, Knights, and Gentlemen of Persia, to fight in their Emperor's behalf, who entrenched themselves without the City. The King of Macedonia and Armenia likewise had gathered together so mighty an Army, as might have been thought able to make a Conquest of the World, who pitched their Tents about the City in Armenia, where ●he King of Macedonia and Armenia lay, Montelyons heart was fixed with desire to drive back those foes, not staying to give them leave to make the first challenge, but humbling himself upon his knee, before the Emperor and his Father, uttered these speeches. Most mighty Emperor, and my Noble Father, I have already I hope satisfied you of my innocency, being trained by some subtlety to my intended death, by Praxentia and her brethren: but for that mine honour hath been blemished by that infamous accusation, and the common people rest unsatisfied, and my Foes unrevenged, I humbly crave you licence, that I may send destance to my false accusers, and by challenge acquit myself, which am constrained thus hastily to desire, for that my heart will abide extreme torture until it be finished. The Emperor rejoicing at his forwardness, and seeing Persicles willing to have it so, gave his consent. Which done, Montelyon left them, and arming himself in an Armour of white, which he had caused to be made of purpose, that no man should know him, rode into the field betwixt both Camps, and by a Herald sent defence into the Camp of the Armenians King of Armenia, the●e is a Knight whom you may behold in the field, that hath sent d●stance to all the Knights in this Army, especially to Palian, whom he accuseth to been a most disloyal and dishonourable Knight, not worthy to be named a Knight, that he most falsely sought to betray Montelyons Life, and withal he offereth by combat to prove against all Knights, that Montelyon is a Knight both Honourable and virtuous, and that Praxentiaes' accusation is most false and untrue. This message was no sooner delivered, but thousands of Knights made suit to combat him first: but Palian to whom it principally belonged, to defend his own honour, desired his Father's consent, and obtained it, presently Arming himself, and gallantly mounted, rode into the field, to him.  
Montelyon desirous of revenge, and his heart inwardly tormented with grief, met Palian with a furious encounter, he answering him with the like breaking their Lances with great comeliness: then drawing their Swords, began the combat, which was soon ended for within few blows, Montelyons Sword burst, that he was enforced to close with Palian, with such force wrinking his Sword from him, and with the pommel thereof striking him so violently on the head, that he bruised his head, and overthrew him, every one thinking he had been dead. Which was no sooner done, but Mensus eldest Son to the King of Macedonia, being ready armed, greeted Montelyon with these words. Knight, thou hast undertaken a tedious task to combat all the Knights in this Camp, yet I hope thou shalt never do that, for myself will abate thy courage. If they were as many more quoth Montelyon, I ●eare not all: if thou comest to combat me hold thy tongue, and be stir thy hands, for I will have about wit● thee. With that they gave each other many cruel blows and received some wounds, till Montelyon again overe arging his Sword with his unmeasurable strength, broke the same, which so vexed him, that he rushed upon Me●sus to have closed but he knowing his intent, avoided him, and before he could turn about, gave him some blows which pierced so his Armour and flesh, the blood ran down. Montelyon having the hilt of his broken Sword still in his hand, flung the same with such violence, that lighting short on Mensus Horse head, strooke him down dead, his master having much ado to get from him without harm: whilst Mensus was mounting himself on a fresh Steed, Montelyons Squire had brought him the Sword that was given him by the Hesperian Nymphs, which when he grasped, he said: Had I armed myself with thee, my Foes had felt some smart, and myself less disgrace. Meeting again, such cruel blows were dealt, that their Armour was mangled and the blood appeared in many places, but Montelyon charged his Foe so hard, that in short space he got the vantage, and wounded Mensus so sore, that had he not been rescued he had either died or been forced to yield: that Montelyon returned with Victory, to the great rejoicing of the Assyrians, especially of the Emperor and Persicles.  
Ralea th●t day left her house, according to her promise to Philotheta, to try whether Montelyon did affect her or no, coming to the Court at such time as Montelyon was newly affirmed, and had his few wounds dressed, a Messenger giving him knowledge of her coming. Being come to him, and all avoided the Chamber, she said: Noble Prince, I come to bring you news, that not many days since, there happened to come to my house a Lady in disguise of a Palmer, desiring that I would for certain days entertain her, until the Wars were ended, for that she had a message to deliver unto you from a Lady in Arabia, named Philotheta, which she thought good to conceal for a time, until you had better leisure to hear it, and to perform that which she requested. Notwithstanding, for that I honour you above all men, and would show my duty to you in any respect, I have adventured to give you knowledge thereof without her knowledge, being ready to bring her unto you at any time, if you please to hear the same. Montelyons heart was exceedingly comforted to hair Philotheta named, much more that she had sent to see him, and most of all what the message should be, how she could tell where he was, or how she could remember him, that had never but once seen him: sitting in a deep and silent meditation, but before he had ended the same, a Messenger and Servant of Raleaes entered, uttering these words. Madame, since you departed much sorrow hath befallen us, for certain Companies of the Armenian Host have ransacked your house, stole your cattle, carried away the Lady, and consumed all your goods with fire. Ralia with that fell down in a deadly Trance, and being recovered, uttered these Words. My Noble Lord (said he) that Lady is the most beautiful Philotheta, that hath long honoured you with a constant Love, it was she that in the disguise of a Palmer came as a Messenger to you from Praxentia, who was guiltless of that intended practice, her Modesty withholding her from uttering what she was, and undertaking that for Praxentia, to make trial of your virtue, and which way your affections were bend. Redeem her my Lord, if it be possible, for she is the most virtuous Lady living: these words ended, she died, which were sufficient to set Montelyons heart on fire, being ready to arm himself, but Raleaes Servant seeing it, told him it was too late to pursue them, for by that time they were in the Host.   

CHAP. XXXVII. How the King of Armenia sent Philothetaes' Picture on Del●urno Emperor of Almaigne, who promised to aid him against Persicles. Of divers Combats that Delfurno maintained in defence of her beauty.  
PHilotheta being now in the Armenian Host, by reason of her exceeding beauty, was presently carried by the Captain to the Tent to the King of Macedonia, who no sooner saw her, but he presently thought her a present fit for the greatest Potentate in the World, and withal fearing their Forces were too weak or the puissant, Army of their Foes, consulted with the King of Armenia about it and at last concluded to send Ambassadors unto Almaigne unto Delfurno, that then newly succeeded his Father in the Empire, being a Prince of great valour: which Embassage was committed to two Noblemen, one of Armenia, the other of Macedonia. The Contents whereof was to treat with him of aid, and withal to proffer him that Lady, whose Picture they carried with them, being drawn by an exceeding cunning workman. The Ambassadors departed, and being arrived, were admitted to Delfurnoes' presence, one of them uttering their Message in these words.  
Most renowned Emperor, the Kings of Armenia and Macedonia, send friendly greetings to your Highness, desiring your aid against their mighty Foes, the King of Assyria and Persia, who are now joined together with oppression, and unjust war to offer them injury the Son of Persicles, having in most dishonourable sort deflowered Praxentia, and slew Thetus her Brother, seeking her rescue: Besides, my Lords, having nothing of more worth than a most beautiful and virtuous Lady, who surpasseth all the Ladies that ever eye beheld, present her unto you, as being fit for none, but a man of such honour and dignity as yourself: whose sergeant imperfectly drawn, we present unto your Highness, desiring your assistance to the aid of virtue, and suppressing of wrong, which agreeth with you magnanimity. Delfurno hearing of these speeches, and viewing the Picture well, for a while stood in a study. At last he made them answer thus. I know not upon what ground I should war against Assyria and Persia, that never did me wrong, yet I would willingly assist your Lords, not drawn thereunto by this present, that I esteem not, but for the Love I bear them, and to punish such dishonour as their Foe hath shown: Therefore return your Lords this answer, that within three Months I will be in Armenia, and bring with me such a power as shall vanquish their Foes, and set them in peaceable possession of their rights. The Ambassadors after they were honourably entertained, and sumptuously feasted, departed with this joyful news, which added both comfort and resolution to the Armenian Host.  
Delfurno being alone, commanded the Picture to be brought into his Chamber, which he viewed and reviewed, beholding the counterfeit with such a surfeiting eye, that he began to affect the absent Lady, by beholding her present Picture. Afterwards calling before him the ancientest Captains and Commanders that were employed in his Father's Wars, he commanded them to Muster an Army of forty thousand strong, of the best Soldiers in his Empire, and with all speed to conduct them to the Host in Armenia, neither staying his coming, nor expecting other command from him for he would be there before them. This done, he cau●ed a most rich and costly Armour to be wrought of exceeding strength wherewith he armed himself, causing a Squire that attended him to cover the Picture with a rich Veil: he departed unknown of any, with this intent, by Combat to make all Knights he met, to confess his Lady's beauty surpassed all others, until he came into Armenia, where he determined to challenge all Knights whatsoever in that behalf. Where being unknown, and carrying the Picture covered, he arrived, sending his Squire with this Message unto the General.  
Noble General, my Master being a Knight of a strange Country, having travailed many Miles in search of Adventures, happening to arrive near the Host, being neither Foe to this Country, nor Friend to Persicles, desireth that with your favour he may make trial of his valour against the Knights of this Camp, which he will undertake in defence of his Lady's virtue, beauty and worthiness, whom he will maintain in single Combat against all comers, to exceed all others. The King returned this answer. Tell thy Master, he is welcome, and shall have our free consent so that he requireth: but withal let him take his friendly warning from me, that he beware what he undertake, left the valour of these Knights turn him to repentance. The Squire returned with this answer to his Master, who presently hung the veiled Picture upon the body of a fair spreading Dake, himself resting thereby as a Guardiant, and ready to combat him that came next.  
The Knights of Armenia and Macedonia hearing of this strange Knights brave Challenge, prepared to joust with him, and the first was a young Knight of Armenia, named Tellutus, who loved Brisa, Daughter to the Duke of Linsus, who supposed her beauty by reason of his entire love, to excel all, but his Fortune was crossed, and he at the second course overthrown.  
The second that jousted was Arnon, a Knight of Macedonia, that maintained three courses against him with great agility, but at the fourth he was unhorsed. Divers other Knights jousted him▪ and had the like Fortune, and his valour bore away the Prize from the mall.   

CHAP. XXXVIII. How the Knight of the Oracle leaving his Parents in disguise, was entertained by the King of Armenia.  
NOw it fell out that Montelyon having heard of the Damsels carrying away from Raleaes house by the Enemy, which little thought it had been Philotheta, studied how to redeem her: first he thought it best to be attempted by force of War, but that course seemed too tedious: then he be thought himself of some spéedier means, for long delay would pinch his heart. These contrarious thoughts driving him to his wit's end: When he had long studied and yet could resolve of nothing, he mounted his Steed, and in an Armour unknown, girding the good Sword he loved so well to his side, he road forth at a Postern gate so secretly as he could, not as yet resolved what to do, riding towards the Armenian Host, but a contrary way, as if he had not come from the Assyrian Camp: being come to the Watch, they apprehended him, and he yielded, desiring to be carried to their General, where being come, the General demanded of whence he was: I am (quoth he) of Arabia, having travailed many years in search of strange adventures▪ What is your name Sir, quoth he, my name is Honorius. Will you (quoth he) serve me against my Foe the Assyrian? I will (said he) if your quarrel be just, serve you faithfully, and spend my life to punish disloyalty. With that the General repeated the History between him and Persicles, showing the Title and claim he had to the Assyrian Crown, and amongst many other falsehoods, accusing Montelyon for Praxentiaes' rape, and Thetus death. This vexed Montelyon exceedingly, hoping one day to work revenge for all, using such behaviour and speech as was most fit for the time, so that he was well entertained of the General, and granted such privilege as the rest of the Knights had, being neither known, nor once suspected to be the man he was.   

CHAP. XXXIX. How Delfurno arrived at the Armenian Host.  
THe next day the Almain Forces arrived in Armenia, and assuring himself that Delfurno would not be long behind, caused Philotheta to be adorned with most costly and rich Robes, and to be well attended by a gallant train of fair Damsels, which he did to, please and delight him with her beauty. Philotheta supposed his intent in doing her so much honour, had been either that he pretended love to her himself, or did it in the behalf of Palian, which besides the abundant cares that possessed her heart, bred a fresh disquiet in her, resolving not to love any but Montelyon. The same day Delfurno like wise, seeing no more would Combat him▪ cam● to the Court, and discovered himself to the King of Armenia and Macedonia, yet desiring to conceal the same, who with great honour and courtesy entertained him: and the more to please him, conducting her to the Palace, where the Queen of Macedonia and Armenia were, accompanied by Praxentia, but all in mournful weeds: and Philotheta glistering in gold, dazzling the eyes of the beholders. Which when Delfurno beheld, at the first view his heart was attainted with loving admiration, even then vowing his heart her thrall, and of that sudden becoming so bounden a subject to Love, as his Heart, Hands, Eyes, and every Member, were devoted to her Service. After salutations to all the rest, (who yet knew him not) forgetting longer to conceal himself, he came to Philotheta, saluting her with these speeches: Lady blame me not for undertaking to be the Champion of your Beauty: I am the Knight that have these many days held Combat against all Knights in your behalf, not having discovered to any your Name, as fearing thereby to offend you: the original of my attempt, being the earnest zeal and love I bear to you. Sir, replied she, your labour was greater than your reward, and more than you néeded to have undertaken, and little pleaseth me: therefore I pray leave off to do so, and then I shall think myself more beholden to you, the subject not answering the Protestation.  
Delfurno was nipped with her reply, and so much ravished to hear her Heavenly voice, that he was to seek of a reply, standing so long in deep study, that she returned from him, and he started as ashamed of that oversight▪ coming to the Kings of Armenia and Macedonia, to whom he said: This Lady's beauty surpasseth all that ever I beheld, I pray tell me of whence she is? Her name quoth Armenia, is Philotheta, Daughter to a Duke in Arabia, whom if it please your Highness to accept of, she I know will yield to any honourable request. I like her well indeed quoth Delfurno, and do me that favour I may enjoy her, and I will bind myself your everlasting Friend. Many other speeches passed betwixt them, both of them promising to effect his desire with speed, especially the King of Armenia, who presently left him, and finding her out, he uttered these speeches to her. Fair Lady, such happiness may be fall you at this instant, if you will be ruled by my counsel, which if you refuse this, and live many thousand years after you shall never light on the like, for the Mightiest Emperor in the world seeketh your Love with honourable resolution to make you his Wife, and renown you with the Title of Empress: this Knight that even now offered his service to you is he, the Emperor of Almaigne, named Delfurno, that hearing of your beauty, came purposely into this Country to behold you, and do you service.  
Philotheta hearing so old a man become so earnest a Solicitor, being neither pleased with his company nor counsel, gave him this short answer. Your proffers are as great as liberal: yet neither pleasing nor acceptable to me, for I live in this place by constraint, not by consent, by which means my mind can think on nothing, but to be released from hence, desiring to live in another place.   

CHAP. XL. How the Knight of the Oracle knew Philotheta, and how she was by the King of Armenia committed to his charge.  
ALl this while Montelyon stayed below among other Knights in the Hall, at such time as Philotheta, came to go into the Garden, with a gallant train of Damsels attending her.  
Montelyon noting her well, suddenly remembering he had seen her, felt such a Passion oppress his heart, that he thought it melted within him: When she was past, he demanded what Lady that was, that was so gallantly attended? Her name (quoth one) is Philotheta, Daughter to a Duke in Arabia, that was so lately surprised in Assyria, and brought thither with intent to be married to Delfurno the Emperor. Montelyon hearing that, held his peace, getting from the company into a solitary place, where being alone, he uttered these Meditations. And can it be that Philotheta was in Assyria, in her own person, and an others name to bring a Message to me? That need I not doubt of, for Raleaes speeches confirmed it: but may it not be that she sent some other? that cannot be, for they tell me she was surprised in Assyria. Moreover Ralea told me, that she came in the Disguise of a Palmer, which Palmer I am assured was even the very same that trained me to Praxentiaes' presence, Whom I now presently remember, had the selfsame countenance of Philotheta, which made me affect him so much. These remembrances, may be assurances that she rather hateth than loveth me, for otherwise I cannot be persuaded, and then the task I have undertaken over tedious: for it will be in vain to seek her love that regardeth me not. Besides, did she love me, yet having thrust myself amongst such a multitude of mine Enemies, that if they knew me would end my life: it is impossible for me to make my Love known to her, yea, or so much as to speak to her: What hope is there then left for me, but to Despair, or return to my Parents, seek to win her possession by force of Arms.  
Whilst he yet continued in these Meditations he espied the King of Armenia coming towards him, to whom he used great Reverence. The King suddenly seeing him, as soon remembered he told him he was of Arabia, which made him utter these speeches. Well met Honorius, I think thou toldest me thou wert of Arabia, and therefore it cometh in my mind, that thou art the only man may'st pleasure me if thou wilt undertake for me, being a matter of small labour, but much importance: Which if thou wilt but undertake, and with secrecy conceal, thy reward shall be so great as thy heart can wish. My Lord (quoth he) whatsoever it be, I will undertake it, doing my uttermost endeavour therein, with such secrecy and diligence, as you shall like of. I do both trust and believe thee (said he) for in thy face I see the sparks of Honour: therefore this it is. There is in my Court a Lady of thy Country, named Philotheta, whom I had thought to have matched with the Emperor Delfurno, but now my Mind is altered, and I purpose to enjoy her myself: and for that thou art her Countryman, I think thou mayst prevail more to persuade her then any other: therefore I have chosen thee as my Friend, yea my dear Friend to solicit my suit unto her: But thou must not be known but that thou dost only speak in the behalf of Delfurno: for so will I tell him. This is that I would have thee perform: therefore tell me, art thou resolved to do it? Were the Task far greater, I would undertake it, but in this I think myself exceedingly honoured by your Highness, hoping to prevail so much, that you shall attained your desire. Then come with me (quoth he.) Then did he bring him to Philothetaes' Lodging, whether she was newly returning, and uttered these speeches to her. Lady, for that you are a stranger, solitary, and unacquainted with the Armenians guise, I have brought this Knight not to be your Gaurdiant, for I make you no Prisoner, but to accompany you, and defend you if any should offer you wrong, whom I hope you will accept of. Philotheta liked his proffer well, hoping he would prove a means for her to scape by, accepted his proffer with hearty thanks.   

CHAP. XLI. Of the first Conference betwixt Philotheta and the Knight of the Oracle.  
MOntelyon being alone with the Lady he had so long desired to see, and being now her Keeper that she so dearly loved, thought himself most fortunate, doing humble reverence to Philotheta: Who demanded his name. My name (said he) is Honorius. Then did she demand whose Son he was? for which he had not an answer ready, but stood silent, not caring to be taken in a lie, for that he was unwilling to maintain a lie. Philotheta seeing that, said, I perceive I shall have small comfort by thy company, for I see you are not of Arabia. Lady (said he) whatsoever I am, I rest wholly to do whatsoever you shall command me. Then should you not (quoth she) please him that brought you to me, for his mind and mine are quite contrary, else would he not have trusted you. Admit I did quoth he, yet having no intent to do it, but thereby to enjoy your presence, your have no cause to suspect me. Yet I think you are deceived in his intent, for none but myself knoweth it, which I care not to reveal to you, if you will conceal it from him, for I came hither to do you pleasure, not to further him. Tell it me (quoth she) and I promise you I will conceal it. Thus it is, whereas he with great earnestness hath sued unto you in the behalf of Delfurno, he hath appointed me to be a more earnest solicitor in his behalf: for that he himself is deeply in love with you, but he intendeth that Delfurno shall think I am only employed to pleasure him. Which when he imparted unto me, and willingly undertook, not to do it, but to do you all the humble service and duty that I can being neither of this Court, nor of Arabia, but a Knight of Assyria, that have vowed never to leave searching until I had found you: the occasion whereof was this. Upon a day walking in a Grove, adjoining to the Palace Garden, I heard a Knight whom afterwards I well knew, making much lamentation for your absence that nothing but news of your safety could ease his heart. I disclosed myself unto him, and for the love that I bore him, vowed to travel in your search, first arriving in this Court, where to my exceeding joy I have found you, with all humility, faith, and constancy, proffering you my service, being ready to undertake any Task, and undergo any peril to do you service, I know not how to trust thee (quoth she) considering thou regardest not to break thy Word to the King of Armenia, therefore I fear thou wilt do the like to me: yet if fair words may deceive me I shall be deceived in thine I would trust thee but I cannot, and yet blame me not, for having found no friendship nor truth in many, I know not how to trust any. My Fortune was ever yet adverse, and therefore I am without hope of better: then leave me for this time, and if you can find in your heart to be true to help me, I may hereafter be better advised to believe and employ you: which words ended, they parted.   

CHAP. XLII. Of the sorrow that was made in the Assyrian Camp for the Knight of the Oracles absence.  
NOw let us return to speak of Persicles, who missing Montelyon, within short space after his departure, went to his Chamber to seek him, and from thence from place to place, but all in vain, until at last he heard news by a Servant, that there was a Knight departed that day at a Postern gate, armed at every point. Persicles hearing that, returned to the Emperor, and certified him, and Constantia of his departure: both of them being strooken with sudden grief, especially Constantiaes' heart was overcome with such passion, that until the time of his return, she could never shake it off. News like wise was brought, that the Emperor of Almaigne was arrived with forty thousand Soldiers in aid of the Kings of Armenia and Macedonia. Then began the Emperor of Persia and Persicles to assemble all the Nobility together to determine what to do. A general conclusion being agreed upon, within two days to bid them battle. But the Soldiers hearing of Montelyons departure, seemed to have lost their former courage, and to have been without comfort.   

CHAP. XLIII. Of the secret practices of the King of Armenia and the Emperor of Macedonia to deceive each other of Philothetaes' love, which they imparted to Honorius Knight of the Oracle.  
NOw Montelyon being like wise no less sad, to have left them so carelessly, than they were for his absence: After he had spent all the Night in sad meditations, he arose early with purpose to reveal himself and his Love to Philotheta, whatsoever ensued thereon: yet fearing eftsoon to disquiet her, he walked down into a Garden, where he had not stayed long, but he was saluted by Delfurno, who came to him of purpose to know if he had yet motiooned his suit to Philotheta. Who answered him, that he had had much conference with her the last Night about it, and how she had deferred him for that day's answer. Thereupon Delfurno promised him great rewards, and he as much fidelity, as being contented with his speeches he departed: He was no sooner gone, but the King of Macedonia came in, whose heart was grounded upon a new Subject that Montelyon thought not off, for he determined, that none should enjoy Philotheta but only himself, and therefore came to make trial whither this supposed Honorius would condescend to be ruled by him: which if he would do, than he thought to convey Philotheta secretly into Macedonia, so as neither Delfurno nor the King of Armenia should have any suspect thereof. To this effect he communed with Honorius, first binding him to be secret, then by gifts enticing him, and lastly, dealing by entreaty, until he had uttered the depth of his mind, which he promised to effect, using such words as pleased the King, wherewith he went away contented. Whilst Montelyon and the King of Macedonia were thus in conference, the King of Armenia was entering the Garden, but seeing them in such discoursing he withdrew himself until they were parted, and then he came in, demanding what good news he had for him. My Liege, replied he, the last motion you made to her about her marriage to Delfurno hath hindered your own, for I had much a do to persuade her that you had any intent at all to love her, that were so earnest for another: but notwithstanding that, I hope soon to alter her, and bring her to a better liking of your affection. The Emperor hath been with me already, earnestly soliciting me to prosecute his suit with efficacy. Likewise hath the King of Macedonia, with many promises, desired me to use what persuasions I could in the Emperor's behalf: but for that by your Majesty I am so honourably esteemed of, I will try the uttermost of my skill to pleasure you: I thank thee good Honorius (quoth he) and I will for thy kindness yield thee so large a recompense as thy heart can wish. Which said, he departed.  
What an Office have I undertaken (said Montelyon) to undertake to sue for three others, that dare not speak for myself, and yet contrary to my liking am enforced to use it, only to rid myself from grief. Yet because the time affordeth me opportunity to work mine own weal, I will try whether she doth pity me or no.   

CHAP. XLIV. How the Knight of the Oracle discovered himself to Philotheta: And how by a stratagem he conveyed her thence in safety. And what joy was made both for their safeties.  
WHich when he had said, he presently went to Philothetaes' Lodging, whom he found in a sad and heavy meditation, but she suddenly espying him coming towards her, turned herself from him refusing to hear him speak, as supposing his speeches would have tended to persuade her to the loathed liking he had mentioned the day before. He seeing her unwillingness to hear, knew the cau●e thereof, but yet emboldening himself he said. Virtuous Lady, pardon my boldness, and withal vouchsafe to hear my speech which shall not offend you: for I have vowed not to utter a word contrary to your liking. You will then (qd she) prove perjured, for I know your message before you utter it, and that will displease me. No dear Lady, said he, I come not now to ask pity for another, but for myself, that sometimes have been better known of you, I am the most unfortunate Montelyon, that have adventured thus far amongst my Foes to seek you out, my heart having honoured you, ever since my first sight of you in the Hermit's Cell in Arabia: Now I desire you to pity me, for without your favour I am not myself, and in your favour I shall account myself most fortunate, Philotheta noting him, remembered perfectly, it was he, which revived her heart with joy, saying. Most noble Knight I account myself more then happy, in that you have me in custody, whose virtuous mind I know will shelter me from dishonour: should I not yield you thanks for deeming so well of me, that am not worthy. I might be condemned of rudeness: therefore most humbly I thank you, and withal desire you to pity my estate, that is now racked upon the Wheel of despair. Dear Lady, said he, I am most willing to do you service, and I desire nothing more than to imply myself to do you good, for my life is yours, and all that I possess with it, I humbly prostrate at your sacred feet. Desiring to convey you hence into Assyria, where your Parents live in safety, inwardly sorrowful for your absence. Whether if you will be directed by me I will convey you with safety.  
Sir, replied Philotheta, your virtuous kindness hath deserved more at my hands then I can yield thanks for, then how should I behave myself to the thing you desire, which is already fixed in my heart: I will rest so far to be directed by you, as that my mind shall be agreeable to yield to any request you shall make. Then dear Lady (said he) I will before to morrow this time, see you safe in my Father's Court, for much mischief is pretended by these Kings of Macedonia and Armenia: both of them have been with me this day, and hired me to motion their loves to you, both of them seeking to enjoy you, but so as the other shall not know thereof, each seeking to prevent the other, and both of them the Emperor, which they have revealed unto me: but may I have your licence, I will by that means deliver you from their custody. I most humbly desire you to do it, (quoth she) referring myself to your good directions, and committing all to your wisdoms' election. Which said, Montelyon emboldening himself gave and received so sweet a kiss, as seemed to breath forth a sweet exchange of each others Souls. He going to find out the King of Armenia, and she into her private Chamber.  
Montelyon having found out the King of Armeni●, told him how that the King of Macedonia went about to convey Philotheta from thence, rehearsing all the conference that had passed betwixt them: and withal (quoth he) the Emperor was with me this day, promising me great rewards, if I would do the like for him. Now my Lord, my love and duty to you, bindeth me only to do you service, and I have vowed that my best endeavours shall be employed only to your good liking. The King hearing that both of them went about to deceive him raged exceedingly, but trusting his Fidelity, he was quieted: ask what he should do to prevent them both. My dear Lord (quoth he) this Evening you may effect your desire, or else never: at which time give me but directions, whether I may convey her to a place of security, or where we may meet you, and I will adventure my life but I will do it: and by this means you shall deliver your Signet unto me, for our quiet passage forth at the City Gate, and then may we meet you where you will appoint us. And that shall be (quoth he) at Friar Barnard's Cell without the City, if you know it, and there is my Signet. Thither will I convey her (quoth he) at twelve a Clock. Farewell then (quoth the King) be but Faithful, and thou shalt find my friendship such, as shall highly reward thy pains.  
Montelyon having effected this, presently went to the King of Macedonia, telling him how the Emperor's importimacie was such, that it was high time, (either then, or never) to convey Philotheta thence, whom he found willing to yield thereunto. He hearing that, desired his counsel, promising well to reward him, entreating him to do it for him, and both himself and his Kingdom should be at his command. Deliver me (quoth Montelyon) your Signet for my Pass, and appoint the place and Time, and I will bring her thither. There is my Signet (quoth he) the place, at Friar Barnard's Cell, and the time, one of the Clock. After many other speeches they parted.  
Montelyon without stay went to the Emperor, with submiss behaviour, telling him how that Philotheta did greatly affect him, and had sent him to make an humble request unto him: which was, that we might be conveyed in secrecy from the Camp, for that many dangers did invirone her in that place, and that of such importance, as did concern his Life, whereon her safety depended: which for that they were of weight, she would reveal to none but himself, desiring him not to come to her, for that his person might thereby be endangered. Delfurno hearing this, was exceedingly troubled in his mind, yet glad to hear that she esteemed him, said: Honorius, I would as gladly affect any thing to content her, as I would to save mine own life, yet do I not know how, unless by thy directions: therefore do but counsel me, and I will yield to that which thou shalt advise. My Noble Lord (quoth he) the safest way is, this night secretly to convey her through the Gate where your Soldiers lie, and I will bring her to Friar Barnard's Cell, about eleven of the Clock, where you may be ready to receive her, and with a sufficient Guard of Knights to convey her into Almaigne, or any place of security Moreover, my Lord, she willed me to assure you, that both the King of Armenia and Macedonia, having disloyally forgotten their promise to you, seek to win her love to themselves, which dishonour she cannot endure to be done against you. Delfurno was much grieved to hear that, yet hoping to prevent them both, he quieted himself, delivering his Signet to Montelyon, with many thanks and much entreaty, desiring him to be careful, that nothing might prevent their purpose.  
Montelyon being glad of this, thought not so to end, but presently went to the Queen of Macedonia, telling her the King's complot, for conveying of Philotheta thence, showing her his Signet: which when she beheld, exceeding grief possessed her heart to think of his disloyalty. Montelyon seeing that, said. Notwithstanding, he hath attempted this, I know the Lady's virtues to be such, as she will rather suffer the extremest miseries in the world, then yield thereto: and for myself, though he hath promised me great rewards, I respect more mine honour, then to be the agent in so wicked an Act, therefore to assure, that I intend it not. I yield you his Signet, whereby I should have passed the Camp, to meet at Bernard's Cell. I thank thee gentle Knight (quoth she) and for this d●ed command me any thing, and thou shalt obtain it. Myself will meet him there, and by that means, I hope to make him give over the like attempts.  
Montelyon being gone from her, went to the Queen of Armenia, telling her the like, and indeed the truth of her Lord, both delivering her his Signet and all other directions for her to meet him by: leaving her so mad with rage and jealousy, that she was ready to tear her hair: yea even with bitter exclaims to reveal her mind, but that she referred it until she might surprise him with a guilty conscience at Barnard's Cell.  
By this time it grew to be night, and after Supper, was ended, both Delfurno, the King of Armenia, and of Macedonia, making more than wont haste to break company, each being glad that the other was so willing to part, which the two Queens noted, as privy to their drifts.  
Montelyon like wise got him to Philotheta, telling her, that he had so prevailed with Delfurno, that he had gotten his Signet, as their warrant to pass through the Camp, entreating her to be in a readiness to go with him, desiring her to fear no danger, for his life should shield her. She granted to go with him, desiring him to stay there, until the time appointed which he performed, passing the time in private conference with her, to both their like. The time being come, and all things silent, Montelyon armed himself, leading Philotheta out of the Court, passing all the guards, watches, and garrisons, by showing the Emperor's Signet, and coming where the Soldiers lay, they likewise let him go, until they were without the City gates. Montelyon having without danger effected this, turned his steps directly towards his own City, which was not far off, and therefore with ease they got thither. Being come to the City gates, the watch espying them, demanded who was there. Montelyon had them come down and see: they came down and took them in, beginning to examine them: but Montelyon discovered himself as loath to stay there, yet commanding them to conceal it, and to carry him as a Prisoner to Delatus which they performed, where they knocked, and were let in. Delatus and Alfala knowing him, did him humble reverence, rejoicing in their hearts to see him so safely returned. But Montelyon vnvailing Philotheta, Alfala presently knew her with tears of joy welcomming her, whilst the old Duke melted with passion to behold his Daughter, whom from her infancy he had not seen: embracing her in his arms, and a thousand times kissing her tender cheek. These embrace being passed, Montelyon said, Lady, since you are now in safety with your Parents, my promise is performed, desiring you to have regard to the passions I endure, which time will not now permit me to utter, but leave to your courteous consideration: therefore I beseech you in mine absence, let my loyalty be regarded, and your gentle heart willing to pity me. Which said, with a second kiss he left her, to submit himself to his Parents.   

CHAP. XLV. Of the discord that befell betwixt the Emperor of Almaigne, the Emperor of Macedonia, and the King of Armenia, about Philothetaes' departure. Of a merry jest that befell the two Ladies. And of the desolation of the Armenian Host.  
FIrst the Emperor choosing unto him some few trusty Knights that he meant should convey Philotheta into Almaigne, secretly went unto Bernard's Cell, where he shrouded himself under a tuft of Cypress trees, staying the coming of Philotheta, but it was an hour before any came, and the first was the Queen of Macedonia, who attended by one Gentlemen came towards the Cell, whom when Delfurno beheld, he alone stepped unto her, saying. My dear Philotheta, I am sorry that for my sake you should take such pains as at this unseasonable time to be abroad, for which I render all the thanks that a constant heart can. She hearing that, taking him to be her Lord, yielded him many thanks, purposing to try the uttermost conclusion, before she revealed herself, saying: Had I not assured myself of your Love, I would not have come hither: but being here I rest at your disposition: Delfurno then embraced her, oft times kissing her, and being of a quick conceit, presently bethought himself if she would condescend, to call up the Friar, and be married. Lady (qd he) since you have vouchsafed to grant me love, every me also with possession, which the more lawfully to effect, we will be married by Friar Bernard. My Lord, replied she, I am contented: then did he call at the Friar's Cell, who arising, Delfurno taking him aside, told him what he was, and the cause of his coming: who hearing that, presently joined their hands. Delfurno then purposed not to convey her thence, but return to the Camp, which he performed. They were no sooner gone, but the King of Macedonia cometh to the Cell, and ere he could turn him about, the Queen of Armenia, according to Montelyons directions came taither. The King himself taking her for Philotheta, at the first meeting embraced her with a sweet Congee, uttering many speeches to the setting forth of his love, which she answered as kindly, that he grew so bold, as he would have had present possession of her love, but she denied that, alleging that he had a Queen, who hearing of his Love to her, would seek her death. Fear not that, dear Love, (quoth he) for ere long I mean to make her sure enough for ever troubling of you, therefore deny me not, but yield me the fruition of thy love, I will not quoth she, without further assurance, for my mind presageth some ill. Here is (quoth he) a Friar hard by, will you consent that he shall marry us? To that she agreed, and he called up the Friar the second time, who much marveling thereat, demanded the cause of his coming. Friar, quoth he, the cause of my coming is to be married to this Lady, therefore I pray thee do it without delay. The Friar thinking that some mad spirits were abroad, or that some frantic dream had overcome his senses, without ask any more questions married them, and sent them away. The King of Macedonia, carried her into his Tent in the field, for that he durst not go to the Palace, for fear of his wife, where he stayed with her all night.  
Last of all the King of Armenia, premeditating what speeches to use to set forth his life, resting himself upon a banks side, hard by Bar●ards Cell, staying there coming the space of an hour, with great patience, but when an hour was past, and then another, and a third near ended, he waxed impatient, fearing to be disappointed, but seeing they came not, at last he misdoubted he had mistaken the time, and stayed too long, that being much troubled he knocked at Bernard's Cell, who started from his Bed, as one affrighted, wondering what accident had driven so many to his Cell that night. And coming to the door, the King of Armenia demanded, if there had been a Lady that night. Yes (qd be) here hath been two, but what they were I know not. It was assuredly Philotheta, and with her Delfurno, to whom I married her: but what the other two were I know not: The King hearing that, in a rage ran back to the king of Macedoniaes' Tent, desiring to speak with him, the Guard knowing him, let him in, and he standing by his bed's side, said. Brother of Macedon, the Lady whom we determined to marry to Delfurno is this Night fled, and for that deed we shall lose his friendship for ever. The K. of Macedonia hearing that, lay as one half amazed, not knowing what to say, and the Queen hearing her husband there, whom she thought she had embraced, trembled with fear. The K. of Macedonia seeing there was no remedy, but that his deed must of necessity be discovered, said. King of Armenia, it is so, I have Philotheta in my custody, and her I will enjoy, for she lieth folded in mine arms. By Heaven qd the King of Armenia, thy life shall not satisfy the dishonour thou hast done us. With that he drew his Sword, and he starting from his bed to reach his to defend himself, in which time the K. of Armenia catching hold on her as she lay, drew her forth into the floor, where beholding her he was then much more enraged, being ready to kill her, but that the King of Macedonia prevented him: who likewise seeing her, stood as one amazed, whilst she hasted to apparel herself, and ran from thence unto the Palace. The King of Armenia vowing revenge, went from the Macedonian Tent, and presently caused his Drum to strike up Alarm, and commanded his Soldiers to destroy the Macedonians, who according to his command, suddenly set upon them, that there began an exceeding slaughter amongst them. The Emperor having news thereof, supposing the cause had been for the loss of Philotheta, commanded two of his knights to go unto either of them, and desire them to be pacified until they had discovered their griefs to him, which he could easily remedy, if not he would become a friend to one of them. The messengers found them both together in single combat, and delivered their Message, but it was long before either of them would go to him, yet at last they went both: To whom Delfurno said: My Lords, I believe your strife ariseth from the loss of Philotheta, if that be the cause contend no longer, for as you were both willing I should enjoy her, so I have this night had possession of her life, being lawfully married unto her at Barnard's Cell. The King of Armenia what with rage and jealousy, not well knowing what he did, drew the Curtains, and discovered their views, the Queen of Macedonia, who seeing her. Honour so betrayed, lay quits bereft of sense, but coming again to herself she cried out for pardon, alleging she was betrayed: but there was now no time of parley, for all of them were enraged, and as well Delfurno as the rest, betook themselves to Arms. But the Queen of Macedonia humbling herself at her husband's feet. Said: Both you, myself, and all of us are deceived: Honorius yesternight declared unto me, that you intended privily to carry Philotheta from hence. I requested him to counsel me how to prevent you, whereupon he told me, that you had appointed to meet with him and her at Barnard's Cell and for his Pass he had received your Signet, which at my earnest entreaty he delivered me, I thinking to surprise you there, came thither, where the Emperor as I now perceive met me whom I took to be yourself, and he taking me to be Philotheta that went to Bernard's Cell, I still concealed myself, thinking I had not offended, but now I see I am betrayed. Lady (qd he) I willingly pardon this fault, having committed the same with the Queen of Armenia, and in the same manner deceived by Honorius. The Emperor hearing that, sent a Messenger to see if Philotheta were in the Court, but he returned news, that both she and Honorius were not to be found. The Emperor then said, that knight hath dereived us all, therefore let us be friends. Contented qd the King of Macedonia. By heaven qd the King of Armenia, I will not bear this dishonour, but be revenged to the full, and cause th●e to repent that ever thou suffered'st such dishonour to Armenia. The King of Macedonia could not brook his words, but in a rage made this reply. I know quoth he, thou art a tyrant, and regardest not the laws human nor divine, as may be seen by the unjust title thou layest to the Crown of Assyria, which is forged, and were it not to revenge my Daughter's dishonour and Sons death, I would not have offered arms against that worthy King. Therefore since thou art so peremptory, do thy worst, for I regard thee not. The King of Armenia went from thence setting upon the Macedonians. And the King of Macedonia forsook his Tents to defend himself. The Emperor presently commanded his Forces to march forth of the City.   

CHAP. XLVI. How the Knight of the Oracle and Persicles, suddenly issuing out, destroyed the whole Armenian Host.  
MOntelyon knowing that some stratagem would follow his last night's policy, after he had submitted himself to his Parents & the Emperor, he armed himself in the armour which was given him by the Hesperian Nymshes, & presently mounted himself, leading his sixty thousand Soldiers forth of the City, which likewise he performed before the Emperor or Persicles heard thereof: who at last being certified sent for him to know the cause: this night qd he shall we surprise our Enemies, who are now together by the cares within themselves Persicles thereupon armed himself, and Deloratus, Pisor, Cothanes, and many other Knights of great esteem marching thither wards, where they heard such cruel alarms, as though the City had been utterly destroyed And being come near the City, they beheld the Emperor in the field, to whom Persicles sent a Herald, to certify him that Persicles was never foe to the Almaigns, and therefore sent to know if Delfurno had any quarrel against him. Delfurno returned answer, that he was never foe to Persicles. Montelyon was the first that entered the City, and set upon his enemies with such fury, that many of them lost their lives, and the day being light, discovered such a cruel slaughter as eye hath not beheld. The King of Armenia, and Macedonia were then in cruel combat together, betwixt whom, Montelyon stepped, saying: Strive not to destroy one another but defend your selves, for I am come to do that. They knowing him to be the Knight of the Oracle, were so amazed, as if they had been surprised with a sudden trance, running several ways to call back theirSouldiers from destroying one another, to defend themselves: but before they could set themselves in any good order, the Assyrians were so intermingled amongst them, that before they were aware they lost their lives. Palian seeing themselves so overtaken, perceived it was in vain to strive for victory, stole forth of the City to Delfurno, entreating him not to forsake them: but he knowing disadvantage had seized on them, refused, letting him return without comfort, and entering into the City, he found his father grievously wounded, and ready to yield to Montelyons sword, at whom he ran with such fury, that he wounded him in the thigh: Montelyon seeing that and knowing him, let drive at him with great courage, and continued combat against him, whilst the King of Armenia began to withdraw himself, Montelyon seeing that, struck so forcible a blow at Palian, that he astonished him and with that overtook the King, at the first blow cutting in sunder his wrist which had lost his Gauntlet, and at the next thrusting his sword quite through his body. Palian by this recovered himself, and looking about ●im, beheld his father's tragedy, aiming himself to revenge. Montely●● seeing him coming welcomed him with so cruel a blow, that his ●●mour flew in pieces. Palian would have done the like, had not Montelyons Armour been of unwonted strength, but in the end he fled, find●●● himself too weak to resist him. Persicles and Deloratus all this while ranged up and down, destroying such as they met, until at last they encountered the King of Macedonia, and his two Sons, accompanied with ●oure other Knights of Macedonia that made exceeding slaughter where they went. Persicles ran at the King, and in the encounter overthrew him, but his eldest Son stepped to his rescue, and with an unlucky blow wounded Persicles on the thigh: then began an unequal combat betwixt them for those six set upon Persicles and Deloratus, who continued combat against them by the space of an hour, till both sides were grievously wounded, especially Persicles & Deloratus had bled so much, that they were ready to faint. Montelyon came most fortunately to their rescue, who espying his Father and Deloratus in such danger, was so enraged, that he can at one of them with such force, that he slew him, and within few blows, left another bereft of sense, and offending a third with such puissant blows, that he could not tell, whether he might stay or run away. Another seeing that, joined himself in combat with him, continuing it but a short space, for he was soon so sore wounded, that he was not able to resist Persicles being sore wounded before, yet so valiantly behaved himself, that one of them lay dead at his feet, and the other fled from Montelyon: then began a desolation in the Host, for the Armenians cried fly, fly, and the other kill, that of a sudden the massacre was so hot, that the Channels of the City began to run with blood, and none could hardly ride or pass on foot for dead carcases. Then began the Citizens to run on heaps, the two Queens be taken themselves to ●light with Praxentia, but were taken by Pisor. Palian was taken prisoner by Deloratus, and the King of Macedonia, and his two Sons by Persicles and Montelyon. The Soldiers that were left, fled forth of the City and hid themselves in the fields, and the Citizens, so many as could escape the sword, upon their knees entreated Persicles to spare their lives, who yielded upon condition they would pay to every common Soldier a 100 Crowns, and to every Leader 500 which they performed. Persicles then sounded retreat, and drew his forces out of the City, appointing Garrisons to keep the same to his use. Delfurno at his return met him, and offered to conclude a league of amity with him▪ which he kindly accepted, riding together to the City of Piso● where they were received with exceeding joy, especially Montel●on to whom all men attributed the glory of that victory.  
After this victory attchieved to the great and exceeding applaud of Montelyon. Persicles caused all the dead bodies to be buryer, those that yielded to be pardoned, the maimed to be carried to hospitals to be cured and every Soldier to be sent away well rewarded, and highly contented And within few days after the Emperors of Persia and Almaigne, Persicles, Deloratus, and all the Nobles there, except Prisoner's, assembled to finish the Conclusion of this Controversy, for that the King of Macedonia hasted his releasement. When being all set in a most royal and majestical sort the places near to that royal assembly being gloriously furnished with the beauties of shining Ladies, the Prisoners were brought in honourable sort, and after many allygations of wrongs, they by a general consent desired Montelyon to appoint their ransom, attributing the glory of that victory to him, and therefore none but he to have the disposing of the Prisoners ransom, with that unwonted gravity, wisdom, and d●cent behaviour yielded them thanks, as was seldom to be seen in a Knight so young. First, with honourable courtesy embracing the King of Macedonia, reconciling him to his Queen and the rest, who had taken offence by him, setting all free at liberty, but Palian and Praxentia, imposing his task upon them, Palian to marry Praxentia, and she to acquit him of the wrongful accusation she had lad upon him, which she presently performed, yet utterly denying to marry with Palian. Then the Emperors of Persia, Almaigne, and Persicles, desiring to honour Mont●lyon, stood up, requesting him to require any thing of them which he further desired, for that above all men in the world they honoured him, as he had best deserved. Montelyon desiring nothing more than Philothetaes' love, presently stepped to the seat where Philotheta sat like an Angel shining above all the rest, and taking her by the hand, he sa●●: Fair Lady, do you agree that whatsoever I demand, I sh●ll obtain. Sir, said she, I yield, as above all the rest bound to ho●●ur you, as one most unworthy, yet having received most: Then he ●●ading her down with greater royalty than ever Paris did Helen, required to be married unto her, which was applauded with so general a consent, that not the bluntest heart in that assembly, but did ●●ape with exceeding joy. Not a soul discontented, none disquieted, but all rejoicing, some commending▪ some embracing▪ and every one desirous to show their love to him. The day of the marriage appointed and likewise performed with more Royalty, joy, and Pleasure, then can be expressed.   
FINIS.