THE HISTORY OF ARBASTO King of Denmark. Describing the Anatomy of Fortune, in his love to fair Doralicia.  
Wherein Gentlemen may find pleasant conceits to purge melancholy, and perfect counsel to prevent misfortune.  
By Robert Green, Master of Art.  
Omne tulit punctum qui miscuit utile dulci.  
Whereunto is added a lovely poem of Pyramus and Thisbe.  
O WORMS MEAT: O FROTH: O VANITY: WHY ART THOU SO INSOLENT?  
LONDON Printed by I. B. for Roger jackson, and are to be sold at his shop near Fleet Conduit.   

To the Right Honourable and Virtuous Lady, the Lady Mary Toldst, wi●e to the right Honourable, Gilbert, Lord Talbot: Robert green, wisheth increase of Honour and Virtue.  
MYRON, that unskilful Painter of Greece, never drew any picture, but the counterfeit of jupiter: saying, that if it were ill wrought, his worthiness should countenance out the meanness of his work●, if well, commend the perfection of his Art.  
In like manner fareth it with me (right Honourable) who ha●ing unskilfully shadowed wi●h bad colours, the counterfeit of Fortune, presume boldly to shroud it under your ladyships patronage, as able to defend it, be it never so mean, and to countenance it, were it never so good. Thus hopeful of your ladyships acceptance, I remain,  
The unfeigned honourer, and admirer of your Noble perfections, Robert Greene.   

To the Gentlemen Readers, health.  
ALexander, whether wearied with Bu●●phalu● pace, or de●●rous of novelties, as ●he nature of man delighteth in change, rode on a time on 〈◊〉 horse, for which being reprehended by one of his Captains, he made hi● this answer: Though all (quoth he) cannot have Bucephalus cairi●ge, yet this is his horse.  
So gentlemen, if some too C●rious 〈◊〉 at your courtesy, that vouchsafe to take a view of this Pamphlet, I hope you will answer: Though it be not excellent, yet it is a ●ooke.  
Yours for a greater cu●●●sie, Robert Greene.   

The Contents of this History.  
CHAP. I. 
HOw Arbasto is discovered in his retired life by the traveler.  Chap. 2 
Arbasto relateth his story and discovereth himself.  Chap. 3 
Arbasto in love with Doralicia. And Myrania with Arbasto, having opportunity to discover the same.  Chap. 4 
Arbasto and Myrania with several contraries for love, reverts their complaints.  Chap. 5 
Arbasto is traitorously surprised by Felorus, and imprisoned in Orleans, with all his army defeated.  Chap. 6 
Myrania in love with Arbasto, contriveth his delivery out of prison by a secret policy.  Chap. 7 
Arbasto strangely transported with doralicia's love, forgetteth myrania's kindness, and sendeth covertly to ●●ralicia, who again delivereth him.  Chap. 8 
After myrania's death, Doralicia●elenteth ●elenteth, and sendeth to Arbasto, who then hated her as much as he loved her before.  Chap. 9 
Doralicia having received Arbasto's unkind answer, dieth of a frenzy: and Arbasto, banished his kingdom.    

THE HISTORY of Arbasto, with the Anatomy of Fortune. CHAP. 1. Arbasto is discovered in his retired life by the Travellers  
AFter an untoward journey and several infortunate tempests, besides the unskilfulness of our Pilot, I happily arrived at the City of Sydon, where being set on shore, I strait with my companions went to offer incense to the goddess of Prosperity, w●ich the Citizens call Araste. nowhither being come, my devotion done, and my oblations presented, desired to take a view of the ancient Monuments of the Temple, I passed through many places, where most sumptuous sepulchres were erected: which having seen, as I thought to have gone to my lodging, I spied a Cell, having the door open: whereinto as I entered, I saw an Archslamin sitting (as I supposed) at his Orisons, for so was the Priest of the goddess termed, who being clothed in white Satin Robes, and crowned with a Diadem of perfect gold, leaned his head upon his right hand, pouring forth streams o● tears, as outward signs of some inward pas●●ons, & held in his le●t hand the counterfeit of Fortune, which with one foot trodden upon a Polype 〈◊〉, and with the other on a Chameleon, as assured ba●●i●● her mutability. Driven into a dump with the si●ht o● this strange de●i●●, as I long gazed at the unacquainted gesture of this live Flamen, willing to know both the cause of his care, & what the picture of fortune did import, I was so bold to wake him out of ●is passion, with this parley.  
Father (quoth I) if my presumption be great in pressing ●o rashly into so secret and sacred a place tha● I hope, weighing my will, you will somewhat excuse my boldness for I have not presumed as thinking to give any just occasion of offence, but as a stranger, desirous to see the Monuments of this ancient Temple, which 〈◊〉 I narrowly viewed, happening by chanc● into this your Cell, an● seeing your old age perplexed with strange passion●, stated as one willing to learn what disaster hath driven you into these dumps, which if I w●●hout offence may request, and yo● without prejudice grant, I shall find myself by duty bound to requite your undeserved curtes●e.  
After I had uttered these words, staying a good space to hear what the ●lde man would answer, seeing h●e did not so much as vouchsafe to give an ear to my par●e, or an eye to my person, but still gazed on the picture of Fortune. I saw a present Metamorphosis of his actions: for from tears he fell to trifling, from lowering to laughing, from mourning to mirth, yet never casting his eyes from Fortune's counterfeit, till at last after he had long smiled (as I thought) at th● picture, he as in desp●te cast it from 〈◊〉 ●nd taking his Lute, played a dump, whereto he warble● ou●●●ese word●: 

WHereat erewhile I wept, I laugh,  
That which I feared, I now despise  
My victor once, my vassal is,  
My foe constrained, my weal supplies.  
Thus do I triumph on my foe,  
I weep at weal, I laugh at wo●.   

M● care i● cu●'d, yet hath no end,  
Not that I want, but that I hau●●  
My cha●ge wa● change, yet still ● end●  
I would have less, if you me 〈◊〉  
Ay me poor wretch 〈…〉 d●e live,  
Constrained to ta●e, y wished to gi●●.   

She● whose delights a●e signs of death,  
Who when she smi●●s, begins t● lowrey  
Constant in this, theretill she change,  
Her sweetest gifts time proue● but sowre●  
I live in care● frost with her guile,  
Through 〈◊〉 I weep, at her I smile.    
The grave Priest having with sig●●s sobbed out this sorrowful ditty, I was driven into a maze what the contrary content● of these verses should mean, until at last casting hi● eye aside, and seeing me stand so solemnly, ●e burst forth ●nto these choleric terms.  
Friend, quoth he (if I may so term thee) thou hast either not hear● much, or learned very little, either thy courtesy is small, or thy conditions too currish, that seekest to come to counsel before thou be called● If the secrecy of my Cell, or the reverence of my age, or thy small acquaintance with me, were not sufficient to hold thee from pressing so nigh: yet seeing me thus perplexed, thou mightest (for modesty sake have left me to my secret and sorrowful passions. If it be the custom of thy Country to be so discourteous● I like not the fruit of such a soil: If thy own folly to be thus rash, I crave not to be acquainted with such a bold guest: but whether it be or no, as thou camest in without my leave, I wish thee to go out by just command.  
He had no sooner uttered these words, but he was ready to take up the picture, if I had not hindered him with this reply.  
Sir where the offence is confessed, there the fault is half pardoned, and those fac●s that are committed by ignorance, always claim remission by course: I grant that I have been much too rash, but I repent, and therefore hope you will take the less offence, and the sooner excuse my folly: faults committed by will, gain oft times but a che●●●, then mine done by ignorance, shall I hope escape without a mate. Penalties are enjoined by the intent more than by the work, and things done amiss (saith Tully) ever aught to be measured by the passion, a●● not by the mere action. Which considered, if my presence hath been pr●●●diciall to your reposenesse, I hope you will think I offend 〈…〉 stranger, and will pardon me, as one sorry for so rash an enterprise.  
The old man very attentively hearing my talk, having somewhat digested his choler, rising up from his seat, made me this friendly answer.  
Friend ●●uoth he) It is not gold that glisters, the smoothest talk● hath oft times the smallest truth, the Sun when it glistereth mo●● bright, braveth the greatest shower. The Painter casteth the fairest c●lour over the foulest board, and strangers flatter ar● oft times but mée●● deceits: yet whether thy talk be truth o● tales, whether thou comest to note my passions as a spy, or hast by chance ●it into my C●ll as a stranger, I care not: for if thou envy me as a foe, I fear not the spite of Fortune: if thou muse at my sudden motions, it shall little avail thee to hear it, and be a great grief for me to rehearse it.  
O sir (quoth I) if my credit might be such as without desert to obtain so much favour, or if the prayer of a poor stranger might pr●●aile to persuade you to unfold the cause of these your sudden passions, I should think my former travels countervailed wi●h this your friendly courtesy.  
It is good indeed (quoth he) by other men's harms to learn to beware: Phoe●us had never been so wa●y of Vulcan, if Mars his mishap had not bid him take heed: Ulysses had not so wisely eschewed Circe's charms, if he had not seen● before his fellows transformed, & perhaps the hearing of my former cares may free thee from ensuing calamity.  
I have been myself a Prince, which am now subject unto power: o'late a mighty Potentate, & now constrained to live under a seruil● law: not contented erewhile with a kingly Palace, now sufficiently satisfied with a poor Cell, and yet this present want exceeds my wont weal. I than had too much in penury, and now I lack in superfluity, being cloyed with abundance, yet having nothing, in that my mind remaineth unsatisfied. Fortune, yea Fortune in favouring me, hath made me most infortunate. Syren-like hiding under music misery, under pleasure paine● under mirth mourning, like the su●●ed honeycomb, which while a man toucheth he is stung wittenes: She● presenteth fair shapes, which prove but fading shadows, she proferr●th mountains, and perhaps keepeth promise, but the gains of these golden Mines is loss & misery. Non● ro●e on Sejanus horse, which got not mishap. None touched the gold o● Tholossa, whom some disaster did not assail: neither hath any be by fortune, which in time hath not been crossed with some hapless calamity. I speak this by experience, which I 〈◊〉 the Gods thou never try by proof: for he only is to be thought ●●ppy, whom the inconstant favour of Fortune hath not made unhappy. The Picture which thou seest here, is the perfect counter●●i●● of her inconstant conditions, for she like to the Polype Fish, ●●●neth herself into ●●ery object, ●nd with the Chameleon taketh her whole delight in change, being sure in nothing but in this, that she is not sure at all. Which inconstancy after I had known by too much proof, I began to arm myself against her guiles, and to count her f●●ning flattery, and her fro●nes of no force, not to accept her as a friend, but to despise her as a foe, and in despite of her feigned deity, to oppose myself against her fickle power, which I have found the greatest shield to shroud me from her secret injuries. I have left my Palace, and taken me a simple Cell, in the one I found often displeasure, but in the other never but contentation. From a Prince of the earth, I am become a Priest to the Gods, seeking only by this obscure life to please myself, and displease Fortune: whose picture when I see, I weep, that I was so fond, as to be subject to such a servile Dame, and I laugh, that at last I triumph both over mine own affections, & over Fortune. Thus friend, since thou hast heard the cause of my care, cease off to inquire farther in the case, pass from my Cell, and leave me to my passions, for to procure my grief, and not my gain, were to offer me double loss. After he had uttered these words, perceiving by his par●e that he was a Prince, I began with more reverence to excuse my rashness, framing my talk to this effect.  
I am sorry (quoth I) if sorrow might be a mends for that which is amiss, that my ha●ty folly hath offended your highness: and that my poor presence hath been prejudicial to your princely passions, but since the fault once committed may be repent, but not reclaimed, I hope your highness will pardon my unwitting wilfulness, and take, Had I wi●●, for an excuse of so sudden an offence, which granted, the desire I have to hear of your strange hap, doth make me, pass manners, in being importunate with your Majesty, to hear the tragical chance of this your strange change. Well (quoth he) since thy desire is such, and time allows me convenient leisure, sit down, and thou shalt hear what trust there is to be given 〈◊〉 incons●●●● Fortun●.   

CHAP. 2. Ar●as●● re●●●●th his story and discovereth himself.  
Until I waxed w●ary of m● diadem, I was king of the famous Country of Denma●ke, wherein, after Bosphorus deceased, (for so was my father called) I 〈◊〉 in happy prosperity, coming to the Crown at the age of one a●d plenty years, being so honoured of my subjects for my virtue, ●nd so loved for my courtesy, as I did not only gain the hearts of th●m, but also won the good will of strange●●. I could not complain 〈◊〉 lack, in that my greatest want was store I f●ared not the force of foreign foe●, for I knew none but were my faithful friends, I doubt●● no misfortune, for I could see n● way for me to mishap: nay, if ● had b●en wise, I might the more ●aue f●ared misery, in that I was so fully pampered up with felicity. But I poor wr●tch was not daunted with any dread, because I saw no present danger: I thought the sea being calm, there cou●d come no tempest: that from the clear air could ensue no storm, that quiet ease was not the mother of dissension, and that where Fortune once tuned, in the strings could never be found any discord.  
But O fond and infortunate Arbasto (for so I may be called:) thou now hast tried, though by hapless experience, that when Nilu● filleth up his bounds, ensueth a dearth: when the Ang●lica is laden with most s●ed, than he dieth: when music was heard in the capitol, than the Romans were plagued with pestilence: when Circus proffered most gifts, she presented most guile, and when Fortune hath deprived thee of most care, than she means to drown thee in the greatest calamity. For as thus I safely floated in the seas of security, and bathed in the streams of bliss, Fortune, thinking at length to give me the mate, began thus to proffer the cherke. I had but one only brother called T●baldo, whom forced by nature, I most entirely loved and liked, who sojourned in France, as one desirous to see the manners of strange Countries, and to furnish himself with all qualities fit for a worthy Gentleman. But on a sudden I happily received news, that he was cowardly without cause slain in the Court, which so appalled me, as nature most cruelly exclaimed against fortune, in so much, that contrary to the counsel of my Nobles, with a resolute mind●. I determined to invade France, and either to bring the whole Realm to ruin, in revenge, or else to hazard life & limb in the battle: well, no persuasion being able to drive me from this s●●led determination, I caused my ships to be rigged, and with as m●●h speed as might be, sailed into France with a great Navy, wher● I had n● sooner la●ded my soldiers, but as a professed foe, craving no other r●cempence for my brother's death but their destruction. I 〈◊〉 their borde●s, fired their forts, razed their Towns and ●●ties to the earth, using no mercy but thi●, that having deprived th●m of their possessions, I also bereaved them o● their lives. Pelorus hearing with what violence I had invaded his land (for so the F●●nch king was called) fearing that he was not able to withstand my force, seeing that Fortune so favoured my enterprise, passed speedily with his whole host unto Orleans, whither I ●asted being not greatly resisted, laying valiantly a strong siege to the City, which ●fter I had divers times assaulted, and so shaken the walls with Camion shot, that they were force to strengthen them with n●w cou●term●●es, Pelorus half daunted with my desperate attempts, coveted secretly to conclude a peace: to colo●● therefore this his intent with a false shadow, he speedily dispatched 〈◊〉 Herald, to entreat a truce for three mon●ths, which being vnhappi●● granted, and therefore unhappily because granted, it was lawful fo● them of Denmark peaceably to pass into the City, and for them of Orleans quietly to come into our Campe. While thus the truc● continued● I being desirous to take a view of the French Court, accompanied with my Nobles, went to Pelorus, who willing to show hi● martial courage by using courtesy to his foe, gave me very sumptuous and courteous entertainment. But alas such mischief ensued of this my fond desire, that death had been thrice more welcome than such distress. For Pelorus had only two daughters, the eldest called Myrania, the youngest named Doralicia, so fair and well featured, as Venus would have been jealous if Adonis had lived to see their beauties. But especially lo●ely Doralicia, and therefore more lovely, because I so entirely loved her: For she was so beautified with th● gifts of nature, and adorned with more than earthly perfection, a● she seemed to be framed by nature to blemish nature, and that beauty had skipped beyond her skill, in framing a piece of such curious workmanship, for that which in her (respecting her other perfections) wa● of no price, would be counted in others a pearl, her greatest want would in others be thought a store, so that if any thing lacked in her, it was not to be sought for in any earthly creature. This Doral●cia being appointed by unjust Fortune to be the instrument of my fall, accompanied with her sister Myrania and other Ladies, came into the Chamber where he● father and I was at parl●, whose gorgeous presence so appalled by s●●ses, that I stood astonished, as if with Perseus' shield I had been m●●e a senseless picture. For as the Dormouse cannot shut her eyes as long as he lieth in the beams of the Sun, as the D●ere cannot c●●s● them braying whe●e the herb M●ly groweth, so could not I but stare on the face of Doralicia, a● long as her beauty was such an heavenly object. She narrowly marking my gazing ●ookes, 〈◊〉 perceived that I was galled, and therefore to show how lightly sh● accounted of my likings passed out of the Chamber with a coy and Courtly countenance, but Myrani● as one perceiving and pitying my passions, seemed with her looks to say in heart● A●basto, farewell.  
These two Goddesses being gone, f●●ling my mind somewhat perplexed, I took my leave of Peloru●, and departed. Coming home to my Tent, ●raught with a thousand toyish fancies, I began to c●●iecture what should be the cause of these contrary motions, the ●●●ect I felt, the occasion ● could not find, applying therefore a contrary ●alue to my sore, it did rather increase, than cure the malady, for company was a corrosive, not a comfort: and to be solitary, the ●inke of all sorrow: ●or then strange thoughts, unacquainted passions, pinching fancies, waking visions, & slumbering watchings, disquieted my head. Me thought I saw the counterfeit o● Doralicia before mine eyes, than the harmony of her speech sounded in mine ears: her look●, her gestures, ye●, all her action● were particularly deciphered by a secret imagination. Wrapped thus in a labyrinth of endless fancies, when reason could not suppres●● will, nor wisdom control affection's I cast my cards, and found by manifest proof, that the lunatic fit which so distempered my brains, was that frantic passion which fools ● Poet's call loue● which knowle, blaming myself of cowardice, the beauty should make me bend, I f●l at last into these terms.  
Why A●basto, art thou so squeamish that thou canst not see Wine, but thou must surfeit? canst thou not draw nigh the fire and warms thee? but thou must with Satyrus kiss it and burn thee? art thou so little master of thy affections, that if thou gaze on a picture, thou must with Pygmalion be passionate? canst thou not pass through Paphos, but thou must offer incense to Venus? dost thou think it injury to Cupid to look, if thou dost not love? Ah fond fool, know this, fire is to be used, but not to be handled: the Barren flour●●●● to be worn in the hand, not chawed in the mouth: the precious stone Echites to be applied outwardly, and not to be taken inwardly: and beauty is made to feed the eye, not to ●etter the heart, wilt thou then swallow up the bait which thou knowest to be ●ane? w●lt thou hazard at that which cannot be had without har●●●, no, stretch not too far, wade not too deep, use beauty, but serve it not, shake the tree, but taste not of the fruit, 〈◊〉 thou find it too hard to be disgested● Why? but beauty is a God, 〈◊〉 will be obeyed, love looketh to command, not to be conquered: 〈◊〉 strove but once with Venus, and she was vanquished: 〈◊〉 sen●●●d Cupid, but he went by the worst: it is hard for thee 〈◊〉 the Crab●e to swim against the stream, or with the Salamander to strive against the fire, for in wrestling with a fresh wound, thou shalt but make the sore more dangerous. Yea but what fondness is this A●basto to s●●th thyself ●n ●hy ●olly? Thou didst come a Captain, and wilt thou return a captive? thy intent was to conquer, not to be vanquished, to fight ●ith the Lance, not to be ●o●●d with love, to use thy spear, not thy pen, to challenge M●rs, not to dally with Venus. How dost thou think to subdue France, which canst not rule thine own affections? Art thou able to quail a kingdom, which canst not quell thin● own mind? no, it will be hard for thee to go in triumph, which art not so much as Lord of thyself. But A●basto, if thou wilt needs love, use it as a toy to pass away the time, which thou mayest take up at thy lust, and lay down at thine own● pleasure. Love? why Arbasto, dost thou dream, whom shouldest thou love? Doral●cia? what thy foe? one that wisheth thy mishap, and partly prayeth to the Gods, for thy misfortune? no sure thou art not so fond.  
And with that, as I uttered these words, such thoughts, such sighs, such sobs, such tears assailed me, as I was stricken dumbo with the extremity of these hellish passions, sc●rce being able to draw my breath for a good space, till at last recovering my senses, I fell to my former sorrow in this sort.  
Yes alas Arbasto, it is the luckless lo●e of Doralici●, and therefore the more luckless because thou lovest Doralicia, that hath thus enchanted thy affections. She is not thy friend whom thou mayest hope to get, but thy foe, whom thou art sure not to gain: for dost thou think she will requite thy merit with meed, or repay thy lo●e with liking? no, she hateth thee Arbasto, as sworn Pelorus foe, ●nd her enemy. Can sh●● love thee which seekest her father's life: nay, did she love, yet could she think thou dost like, which layest s●●ge to her City? no, unless by love she were blinded with too much love. Sith then to fancy thy foe, is with the Cockatrice to peck against the s●éele, subdue thy affections, be master of thy mind, use Will as thy subject, not as thy soveraigue, so mayest thou triumph and laugh at Cupid, saying: Fond●●● I was in love, what then.  
I had ●o 〈◊〉 sealed ●p ●hese secret meditations with a sorrowful sigh, but least being so●●tary I should fall into farther dumps, I went out of my Tent to pass away the time with some pleasant par●●, thinking this the fittest means to drive away idle fancies, hoping th●t h●t love would grow cold, that the greatest ●a●in was but a blaze, & that love most violento in me was ever least permanent.   

CHAP. 3. Arbasto in love with Doralicia, and Myrania with Arbasto, have hau● opportunity to discover the same.  
B●t i● you would see, you must understand how Love and Fortune can play false when they list. I ●as not so drowne● in desires towards Doralicia, as poor Myr●nia burned with affection towards me. For Venus' willing to show she was a woman, by her wilful contrarieties, so fier●d her fancies with the form of my feature, as the poor Lady was perplexed with a thousand sundry passions, one whil● she sought with hate to raze out love, but that was with the Dear to feed against ●he wind: another while she devised which way to obtain h●r desire: but then alas she heaped coals upon her head, for she saw no spark of hop● to procure so good hap. Driven thus into sundry dumps, she fell at last into these terms.  
Alas Myrania (quoth she) happy, yea, thrice happy are those maids which are borne in the Isle Meroc, which ●n their virginity are suffered to see none but him whom they shall marry, and being wives are forbidden by the law to see any man but their husband, until they be passed fifty. In this country Myrania, beauty is used as a natural gift, not honoured as a supernatural God, and they love only one, because love cannot force them to like any other: so that they sow their love in joy, and reap it in pleasure. Would God thou hadst been borne in this soil, or brought up in the same sort, so shouldest thou have triumphed over beauty as a slave, which now leadeth thee as a servile captive.  
O infortunate Myran●a, hast thou so little force to withstand fancy, as at the first alarm thou must yield to affection? canst thou not look with Salmacis, but thou must love? canst thou not s●e with Smylax, but thou must sigh? canst thou not view Narcissus with Eccho● but thou must be vowed to his beauty? Learn, learn fond fool by others mishaps to beware: for she that loveth in haste, oft times, nay, always repenteth at leisure. The Hippians anointing themselves with the fat of the fish Mugr●, pass thorough most furious flames without any per●l: the people called P●ilii, as long as they sacrifice unto Vest●, can be hurt with no venomous Serpents. Telephus as he wore the counterfeit of Pallas shield, was invulnerable, & thou as long as thy mind is fraught with the chaste thogh●e of Diana, canst never be fired with the hapless flame of Venus: arm thyself with reason, and thou mayst pass thorough Cytheria without danger, l●t thy will and wit b● directed with advised counsel, & thou mayst say: Cupid, I defy thee.  
Ah Myrania, things are soon promised, but not so quickly performed: it is easy to sound the victory, but passing hard to obtain the conquest: all can say, I would overcome, but few or none return with triumph Beauty is therefore to be obeyed, because it is beauty, and love to be ●eared of men, b●cause honoured of the Gods. D●●●● reason abide the brunt, when beauty bids the battle? can wisdom win the field, when love is Captain? No, no, love is without law, and therefore above all law, honoured in heaven, feared in earth, and a very terror to the infernal Ghosts.  
Bow then unto that Myrania, whereunto lawless necessity doth bend, be not so fond, as with Xerxes to bind the Ocean sea in fetters: fight not with the Rascians against the wind: seek not with them of Scyrus, to shoot against the stars: contend not with Niobe against Lato●●, nor strive not with Sappho against Venus, for love being a Lord looks to command by power, and to ●e obeyed by force.  
Truth Myrania, but what then, to love is easy, and perhaps good, but to like w●ll is hard and a doubtful chance: fancy thy fill (fond fool) so thou bend not thy affection to thy father's foe: for to lou● him who seeks his ●●●e, is to war against nature & Fortune. Is there ●on● worthy to be thy spheere but Arbasto, the cursed enemy of thy country? can none win thy good will, but the bloody wretch, who seeketh to breed thy Father's bane? Can the ●agle & the bird Osiphage build in one tree? will the Faulken & the Done, covet to sit on one perch? will the Ape & the Bear be tied in one tedder? will the Fox & the lamb lie in one den? no● they want reason, & yet nature suffers them not to live against nature: wilt thou then be so wilful or witless, as having reason to guide nature, yet to be more unnatural than unreasonable creatures? be sure if thou fall in this, thou strivest against the Gods, and in str●uing wi●h them, look for a most sharp revenge.  
T●sh I know this, but hath not love set down his sentence, & shall I appeal from his censure? shall I deny that which the destiny's have decreed? no, for though Cydippa rebelled for a time, yet she was forced at last to make suit t● Venus for a pardon, & I may seek to hate Arbasto, but never find ●●hers to begin to mislike him. And with that, such flery pa●●ion● oppressed her, as she was fain to send forth scalding sighs, somewhat to ease her inflamed fancy, which being sorrowfully sobbed forth● she then began afresh to power forth her pitiful complaints, if ●er sister Doralicia, being accompanied with other gentlewomen, had not dri●●● her ●●t of these dumps, whom she no sooner spied, but leaving her passions ●he warred pleasant, covering care with conceits, and a mourning heart with a merry countenance, lest her sorrowful looks, might giu● the company occasion to conjecture somewhat was amiss. But I alas, which felt the furious flames of fancy to broil incessantly within my breast, could not so cunningly dissemble my passions, but all my Peers saw I was perplexe●● for whereas before this sudden chance, Pelorus misfortune procured my mirth, now the soil which I reaped by affection drove me to a deeper misery. In the day I spent the time in solitary dumps, in the night affected thoughts and visions suffered me scarce to slumber: for alas there is no greater enemy to the mind, than in love to live without hope, which doubt was the sum of my endless sorrow, that in seeing myself fettered, I could see no hope at all of my freedom: yet to mitigate my misery, I thought to walk from the Camp toward the City, that I might at the least feed my eye with the s●ght of the place wherein the Mistress of my heart was harboured, taking with me only for company a Duke of my Country called Ege●io, unto whom I durst best commit my secret affairs, who noting my unaccustomed passions, conjecturing the cause of my care by the outward effects, coveting carefully to apply a salve to my sore, and to drive me from such drows●e thoughts, wakened me from my dumps with this pleasant device.  
Sir (quoth he) I have often marveled, and yet cannot cease to muse at the madness of those men, whom the common people think to honour with the glorious title of lovers, who when rashly they purchase their own mishap in placing their affection, where either their disability, or the destinies deny success to their suits, do either pass their days in endless dolour, or prevent misery by untimely death. If these passionate patients listened a little to Venus' allurements, as I to Cupid's flatteries, few men should have cause to call the Gods unjust, or women cruel, for I think of love as Mylciades the Athenian did, who was wont to say, that of all the plagues wherewith the gods did afflict mortal men, love was the greatest, in that they sought that as an heavenly bliss, which at last they found their fatal bane.  
●earing Ege●io thus cunningly and cou●●●ly to touch me at the quick, I thought to dally with him in this ●●se.  
Why Egerio, dost thou count it a madness to love, or dost thou think him rash which yieldeth willing●●●o it, knowest thou not that love i● divine, and therefore commands by power, and cannot be resisted? I am not of that mind with Mylciad●s, that love is a plague, but rather I think he is favoured of the gods and is a happy lover.  
Tru●h (quoth he) but who is happ● in love? he that hath the happiest success? no, for I count him most unhappy which in love is most h●ppy.  
Why then Egerio (quoth I) thou think●st him unhappy that ●ée loveth.  
Or else may it please your highness (quoth he) I should think amiss: for shall I count him fortunate which for one dram of prosperity, reapeth a whole pound of misery? or shall I esteem that lover happy, whose greatest gain is but golden grief? nay that is never to be called pleasure, which is sauced with pain, nor that good luck who●● guerdeon is loss.  
Sith Egerio (quoth I) thou dost thus broadly blaspheme against Cupid, tell me why thou thinkest ill of lou●.  
Because sir (quoth he) it is lou●, being such a frenzy which so infecteth the minds of men, as under the taste of Nactar, they are poisoned with the water of Styx, for as he which was charmed by Lara, sought still to hear her enchantment, or as the D●ere after once he brouseth on the ●amariske tree, will not be driven away till h●● dieth: so our amorous lovers have their senseless senses so besotted with the power of this lascivious God, that they count not themselves happy, but in their supposed unhappiness, b●ing at most ease in disquiet, at greatest re●● when they are most troubled, seeking contentation in care, delight in misery, and hunting greedily after that, which always bringeth endless harms.  
This is but your sentence Egerio (quoth I) but what reason have you to confirm your censure?  
Such (quoth he) as your highness can neither dislike nor infringe: for the first step to love is the loss of liberty, tying the mind to the will of her, who either too curious, little respecteth his suit, or too co●, smally regardeth his service, yet he is so blinded with a ●o●le of fond affection, that he co●nteth her sullenness soberness, her vain charine●, virtuous chastity: if she be wanton, he counteth her witty, if too familiar, court●ous; so besotted with the drugs of doting love, that every fault is virtue, and though every string be out of tune, yet the music cannot be found amiss: resembling Tamantus the Painter's who shadowed the worse pictures with the freshest colours.  
The pains that lovers f●●le for hunting after loss, if their minds w●re not charmed with some secret enchantment, were able either to keep ●●eir ●i●des from being in●●am●d, or else to cool desire being 〈◊〉 kindled: for the days are spent in thoughts ●he nights in dr●●mes, both in danger, either beg●●●ing us of that we had, or promising us that we have not. The head fraught with ●ancies, ster●● with zeal, troubled with both: yea so many inconveniences w●i●e upon love, as to reckon them all were infinite, ● to taste but one of them intolerable, being always begun with gr●●●e, conti●●●● with sorrow, and ended with ●eath: for it is a pain shadowed with pleasure, and i●y stuffed with misery: so that I conclude, that as none ever saw the Altars of Basyris without sorrow, nor banqueted with P●olus without surfeiting: so as impossible it is to deal● with Cupid, and not incur either speedy death, or endless danger.  
As I was ready to reply to Eg●rios reasons, drawing to a small thicket of trees, which was hard adjoining to the City, I spied where some of the French Dames were friendly ●●tting about a clear fountain, of whom after I had taken a narrow view, easily perceived they wer● three Ladies (accompanied with one Page) namely Myrania, Doralicia, and their Nurse called Madam Vecchia, which sudden sight so appalled my senses, as if I had been appointed a new judge to the three goddesses in the valley of Id●● yet seeing before my eyes the mistress of my thoughts, and the Saint ●nto whom I did owe my devotion, I began to take courage, thinking ●hat by this fit opportunity, Love and Fortune would favour my enterprise, willing therefore not to let slip so good an occasion, I boldly paced to them, whom I saluted in this sort.  
Fair Lady's, the s●ght of your surpassing beauties so dazzled mine ●yes, as at the first I was in doubt, whether I should honour you as heavenly Nymphs, or salut● you as earthly creatures: but as I was in this dump. I readily called to mind the figure of your divine fac●s, which being at my coming to your father's Court by some secret influence most surely imprinted in my fancy, I have hitherto, without any spark of forgetfulness perfectly retained (feeling ●uer s●nce in my heart such strange p●s●ions) an unaccustomed devotion to your beauty and virtues, as I would thin●e the Gods and ●ort●ne did favour me, if either I might f●nd●●cc●sion to manifest my affection, or live to do you service.  
Doralic●a hearing me thus strangely to salu●● her, although she saw her sel●e in the hands of her Fath●●● 〈◊〉 ● yet nothing dismayed, with a coy countenance, she gave me 〈◊〉 ●●abbish answer.  
Sir (quoth she) if at the first look 〈…〉 for Nymphs, by the perfection of our di●●n● beauty, 〈…〉 that e●ther your women in Denmark are very fo●●● or your 〈…〉 lemish● since your coming into France: for we ●now our imper●●●●●ons far unworthy of such dissembled praise. But Diomedes smiled most when he pretended greatest mischief: Scyron entertaine● his guests best, when he meant to entreat them worst: Lycaon feasted jupiter when he sought to betray him: the Hyena ever fawneth at her pre●: ●he Syren● sing when the● mean to enchant: Circe's is most 〈◊〉 when she presenteth poison: and so you, in praising our beauty seek to spoil our blood: in●xtolling our perfection, to make us most imperfect, in wishing openly out weal, s●cre●ly to work ou● death and destruction. For your service you offer us, we so much the more mis●ke it, for his sake that makes the proffer: for we are not so inveigled with love, or so senseless to conceive, but that we think he little favoureth the ste●s, that cutteth dow●e the old stock, he smally res●ect●th the twig, that tendereth not the root, & he lightly loveth the ●hild, that deadly hateth the f●ther, Pol xena counted Achill●s a fl●tterer, because he continued the siege against Troy, & Cressida for sook Troy●us because he warred against the Grecians, nor can we count him our privy fri●nd, which is our open foe.  
Why Madam (quoth I) did not Tarpeia favour Tati●s though a foe unto Rome? did not Scylla respect Minos though he besieged Ni●us?  
Truth sir (quoth Myrania) but the gains they got was perpetual shame and endless discredit, for the one was slain by the sabines, the other re●ected by Minos. The young Fauns cannot abide to look on the Tiger: the Halciones are no so● nor hatched but they 〈◊〉 th● Eagle. Andromache would neu●r trust the fair speeches ●f Py●●●us, nor Dydo laugh when she saw Hiarbas smile: where the party is known to ●e a professed foe, there suspicious hate ensueth of course: and fo●d were that person that would think well of ●●m, that pro●e●●●●h poison though in a golden pot.  
Madam (quoth I) I know it is hard where mistr●st is harboured to infer belief, or to procure credit where his truth is called 〈◊〉 question: but I wish no be●ter success to happen to myself, than in ●art I do imagine to y●● all, swea●ing by the gods that I do honour your beauties and ●●●tue● so much, that if I had won the conquest, and you were my caitiffs, yet would I honour you a● my sovereigns, and obey you as a loving sub●●ct.  
But I pray God, qu●th ●●●●me Vecchia, you have never occasion to show us such fauo●r●●o● we cause to sta●●● 〈◊〉 your ●●●tes●e: ●or I doubt we should 〈◊〉 your ●lowing heat turned to a chilling cold, and your gre●● promises to sm●●●●●rformance.  
In the ●●an time (and with that she took Myrania and Doralicia by the hands) we will leave you to geterne 〈◊〉 the Camp, and we will 〈◊〉 to the City, willing to give you●●ankes for your good will, when we find you a friend and not be●o●●●  
Nay ●adame (quoth I) not so, for construe of my m●●ning how you please, or accept of my company how you list, I will not be ●o discourteous to leave you so slenderly guided, as in the guard of this little Page. And with that taking Doralicia by the hand, willing not to let slip so good opportunity, I began to Court her in this manner.  
The choice is hard Madam, where the party is compelled either by silence to die with grief, or by unfolding his mind, to li●e with shame, yet so sweet is the desire of life, and so bitter the pass●ons of love, that I am enforced to prefer an unseemly suit, before an untimely death. Loath I am to speak, and in despair I am to speed: For considering what love is, I faint, and thinking how I am counted a foe, I fear. But sigh where love commandeth, there it is ●olly to resist, so it is Madam, ●hat intending to be victor, I become a vassal, co●●ing to conquer, I am caught a captive, seeking to bring other into thrall, I have lost mine own liberty. Your heavenly beauty h●th brought me into bondage, your exquisite perfection hath snared my freedom, your virtuous qualities have subdued my mind, and only your courtesy may free me from car●, or your cr●eltie cross me with calamity. To recount the ●●rrowes I have sustained since I first was inveigled with thy beauty, or the service I have vowed unto thy virtue. s●nce thou 〈◊〉 count by talk, though never so true, but mere toys, were rather to breed in thee an admiration than a belief. But this I added for the ti●e, which the end shall ●ry for a truth, that so faithful is my affection, and so loyal is my love, that if thou take not pit●y of my pass●ons, either my life shall be too short, or my misery too long.  
Doralicia hearing attentively my talk, o●t times changed her colour, as one in great choler, being so inflamed ●ith a melancholic ●inde of hate, as she was not of a long time able to ●●●er one word, yet at last with a face full of fury, she ●urst forth in●● th●se despiteful terms.  
Why Arbasto (quoth she) art thou of late become frantic, or doe●● tho● think me in a frenzy: ●ast thou been bitten with the serpent Amphisbena which procureth m●enes, o● do●● thou suppose me fraught with some lunatic 〈◊〉, for thy speech makes me think, either thou art troubled with the one, or that thou counts me cumbered with the other● if this thy poisoned parley were in ●est, it was too ●road, weighing the case; if in earnest, too bad considering the person: for to talk ●f peace amidst the pikes, showeth either a co●ard, or a counterfeit: & to sue for love by hate, either frenzy or fo●●y. It is a ●ad Hare (Arbasto) that will be caught with a Taber, ● greedy fish that cometh to a bare book, a blind G●●se that runneth to the Foxes sermon ●nd she a loving fool that stoopeth to her enemy's lure. No, no, think me not so fond, or at least hope not to find me so foolish, as with Phryne to fancy Cec●ops, with Harpalice to like Archemerus, with Scylla to love Minos, with careless Minions so far to forget my honour, my honesty, my parents, and my Country, as to love, nay not deadly to hate him which is a foe to the lea●● of these: for experience t●acheth m●, that the fairer the stone is in the Toads head, the more pestilent is the poison in her bowels, the brighter the Serpent's scales be, the more infectious is her breath; and the talk of an enemy, the more it is seasoned with delight, the more it sauore●h of despite, c●●se then to seek for lo●●, where t●ou shalt ●●nde nothing but hate, for assure thyself, 〈◊〉 thou didst fan●y as faithfully, as thou dost flatter fal●●y, yet the guerdeon for thy love should be only this, that I will pray incessantly to the Gods, in thy life to p●st●r th●e with earthly torment's, and after death to plague thee with hellish tortures.  
Although these bitter blasts of Doralicia, had been a sufficient coo●ing card● to quench fond affection, yet as the wa●er causeth the sea-coal to burn more freshly, so her despiteful terms far more inflamed my ●●●●re, that I made her this fri●●dly reply.  
Alas (Madam) weigh my case with equity: if you hate me, as I am ●oe to Pelorus, yet favour me as I am friend to Doralicia. If you loathe me as a conqueror of your country, yet pity me as I am a captive to your beauty. If you vouchsafe not to listen to the lure of your enemy, y●t hear the passionate complaints of a perplexed lover, who leading others in triumph, yet himself liveth in most hapless servitude.  
If I have done a●isse Doralicia, I will make amends: if I have committed a fault, I will both requite it, and recompense it: a● I have been thy father's ●oe● so I will be his faithful friend, as I have sought his bale, I will procure his bliss: yea, I will go against the hair in all things, so I may please ●hee in any thing.  
But as I was about to make a longer discourse, she cut more off in this wise.  
In faith 〈◊〉 (quoth she) so well do I like you, that you cannot more displease me, then in s●eking to please 〈◊〉 for if I knew no other caus● to hate th●e, yet this 〈◊〉 su●●ise, that I cannot but dislike thee: he therefore my father's friend, or his foe, like h●●, or ha●● him, yet this assure thyself that I will n●●●● love thee. And with that she flung from me in a great cha●●. Reply I could not, for by th●● w●e were come to the gates of the ●i●ie, where (though unwilling) I took my leave of them in this sort.  
I am sor●y ●adies that such is my luck, and so unhappy is my lot, that in offering myself a companion, I have greatly offended you wi●h my company: yet sith I cannot strive against chance, I think myself happy that Fortune hath honoured me with the fruition of your presence, hoping when time shall try my words no tales but truth, you will at last make me amends with cryiu● peccavi: in the mean while I commit you to the tuition of the Gods, praying Fortune rather to plagu● me with all mishap, then to cross you with any mischance.  
The thanks I had for this my friendly courtesies was a coy disdainful look of Doralicia, and a churlish vale of the old trot Vecchia, but Myrania (as one stung with the prick● of fancy) ●ad me farewell, w●th a more curious gloze.  
I● sir (quoth she) the secret intent of your friendship, had been agreeable to the outward manner of your curtes●e: ●ee had ere this yielded you great thanks for your company: but sith you greet us with a Iudas●e kiss, we think we have small cause to gratify you for your kindness: notwithstanding, lest you should accuse us wholly of discourtesy, we say, we thank you, whatsoever we think, and with that she cast on me such a loving look, as she seemed to play ●oth to depart.   

CHAP. 4. Arbasto and Myrania with several conjectures for love, renewed their complaints.  
THey now returning to the Court, and I retiring to the Camp, f●●ling myself deeply perplexed, yet as much as I could dissembled my passions, willing in love n●t to be counted a lover, ie●●ing therefore with Eger●o, I thus began to dr●● him on.  
How now Egerio, hath not the beauty of these ●aires Ladies, brought you from your fond 〈◊〉? will you not ●ee content for blaspheming Love, in penance to carry a burning ●●ggot before Cupid? me thought your eyes were gazing, wheresoever your heart was gadding: but tell me in good troths is not Doralicia worthy to be loved?  
Yes sir (quoth he) if she were not Doralicia, for as she is beau●●●full, she is to be liked of all, but as she is Pelorus daughter, not to desired of Arbasto, lest in seeking to gain her love, he get that which he least looked for.  
Why Egerio, what ill luck can ensue of love, when I mean not to venture but upon trust, nor to trust without trial?  
Such as happened to Achilles by Polexen●, and yet he feared Priamus. But alas ●ir, I sigh to think, and I sorrow to s●e that reason should yield to affection, liberty to lo●e, freedom to fancy, that Venus should bear the target, and Mars the distaste: that Omphale should handle the club, and Hercules the spindle: that Alexander should ●r●●ch, and Campaspe be coy: that a warlike mind should yield to a little wavering beauty, and that a Prince whose prowess could not be subdued, should by lou● become subject at the f●●st shot.  
What Egerio (quoth I) knowest thou not that he whom no mortal creature can control, love can command, that no dignity is able to ●●●●st Cupid's deity? Achilles was invulnerable, yet wounded by fancy: Hercules not to be conquered of any, yet quickly vanquished by ●ffection: Mars able to resist jupiter, but not to withstand beauty. Love is not only kindled in the eye by desire, but engraven in the mind by destiny, which neither reason can eschew, nor wisdom expel.  
The more pity (quoth he) for poor men, and greater impiety in the Gods, that in giving love free liberty, they granted him a lawless privilege. But sith Cupid will be obeyed, Arbasto is willing to be obedient, would God love had either aimed ●●isse, or else had not m●de Doralicia the mart.  
I not willing that Egerio should be privy to my passions, told him that what I spo●e was in jest, and that if ever I did fancy, I would use love as the Persians did the Sun, who in the morning honour it as a God, and at noontime curse it as a devil. Concealing thus my care, the covered smokes burst in●o great flames, that coming to my Tent, I was f●rst to cast myself upon my bed, where I sobbed forth sorrowfully these words.  
Alas Arbasto, how art thou perplexed, thou both li●est in ill hap● and lovest with out hope: thou burn●●● with desire, and art cooled wi●h disdain: thou art bidden to the feast by love, and art beaten with the spit by beauty. But what then, dost thou count it ca●e which thou sufferest for Doralicia, who shameth Venus for her hue, and staineth Di●na for her chastity? Yea but A●basto, the more beauty she ●ath, the more ●r●●e, & the more virtue, the more preciseness. None must play ●n Mercury's pipe, but O●pheus: none rule Luci●●r, but Ph●ebus: none wear Venus in a tablet but Alexander, nor none i●●o● Doralicia, but such an one as far exc●edeth th●e in person and parentage: thou seest she hath denied thy su●e, disdained thy service, lightly respected thy love, and smally regarded thy liking, only promising this, while she lives to be thy professed f●e. And what then fo●d fool, wi●t thou shrink for an April shower? knowest thou not that a denial is a grant, and a gentle answer a flattering sl●ut: that the more they sleme at the first to loathe, the more they love at the last. Is not Venus painted catching the ball with her hands, w●●ch she seemeth to spurn with her ●eet? Doth not the myrrh tree being h●wen, yield no say, which not moved poureth forth ●●rrup: and women being w●ed, deny that, which of themselves they most earnestly desire.  
The stone Sandrasta is not so hard, but being heat in the fire, it may be wrought: no ivory so ●ough, but seasoned with Su●ho, it may be engraven, no hawk so haggard, which in time may not be called to the lure: nor no women so wilful, which by some means may not be won. Hope the best then and be bold, for Love and Fortune careth not for cowards.  
Nay tush Arbasto, what needest thou pine thus in h●plesse passions, or seek for that with sorrow, which thou mayest obtain with a small suit, raise up thy siege, grant but conditions of peace, show but a friendly countenance to Pelorus, and he neither will nor dare deny thee his daughter Doralicia. Do● this than Arbasto, nay I would it● and that with speed, for now I agree to Tully that it is good: Iniquissimam pacem iustissi●o bello anteponer●.  
Well, being resolved upon this point, I felt my mind disburdened of a thousand cares, wherewith before I was clogged, feeding myself with the hope of that pleasure, which ●●en ininjoyed should recompense my former pain.  
But alas, poor Myrania could not feel one minute of such ease, for she uncessantly turned the stone with Sisyphus, rolled on the whe●le with Ixion, and filled the bottomless tub● with Belydes, in so much that when she could ●●nd● no ●eanes to mitigate her malady, she fell into these bitter complaints.  
Ah My●ania, ah wretched wench My●ania, how art thou without reason, which sufferest reason to yield unto appetite, wisdom unto sensual will, and a free mind unto servile love: but I perceive when the ivy riseth, it wreatheth about the ●l●e: when the ●●p groweth high, it bat●● need of a pole, and when virgins war in years, they follow that which belongeth to their youth. Love, love, yea but they love expecting some good hap, and I alas both love and live without all hope, for Arbasto is my fo●, and yet if he were my friend, he liketh not me, he looketh only upon Doralicia. Sith than Myrania thou art pinched, & hast none to pity thy passions, dissemble thy love, though it shorten thy life: for better it were to die with grief, than li●● with shame. The sponge is full of water, yet it is not seen. The lea●e of the tree Alpina though it be wet, looketh always dry, & a wise lover be she never so much tormented, beh●ueth herself as though she were not touched. Yea, but fire cannot be hidden in the Flax without smoke, nor music in the bosom without smell, nor love in the breast without suspicion. Why then seek some means to manifest thy love to Arbasto: for as the stone Draconites can by no means be polished, unless the Lapidary burn it, so thy mind can by no medicine be cured, unless Arbasto ease it: alas Arbasto sweet Arbasto, And with that she fetched such a groaning sigh, that one of her maids came into the chamber, who by her presence putting her from her passions, sat so long by, till tired with drowsy thoughts she fell into a slumber.  
Fortune frowning thus upon her, and rauning upon me, I set my foot on the fairest sands, although at last I ●o●nd them most fickle, thinking I must needs tread the measures right, when Fortune piped the dance, but though I threw at all, yet my chance was hard, for Pelorus tri●ling for truce, pretended treason: making a show of fear, sought subtly how to overthrow me by deceit, saying, in ruling of Empires there is required as great policy as prowess, in in governing an estate, close cruelty doth more good than open clemency: for the obtaining of a kingdom, as well mischief, as mercy is to be practised, that better he were to commit an inconvenience in breaking his oath, than suffer a mischief by keeping his promise: setting down the staff therefore in this secure perjury, thus it fell out.   

CHAP. 5. Arbasto is traitorously surprised by Pelorus, and imprisoned in OrOrleance, with all his army defeated.  
AFter two or three days were passed, accompanied only with Ege●●o, & a few of my guard, I went to Orleans, determining both to conclude a peace, and to demand Dolaricia in marriage: where no sooner arrived, and entered in at the gates of the City, but I found Pelorus and all his men in Arms, which sight so appalled my senses, that I 〈◊〉 as one transformed, fearing that which presently I found tru●: for Pelorus having his force inflamed with furious choler, commanded his Captains to lay hold on me, and to carry me to close prison, swearing that no less than the loss of life should mitigate his fury.  
And raging in this choler, after he had lodged me up in Limbo, he went with all his army to the Camp, where finding my soldiers secure, as men little doubting of such misfortune, he made such a monstrous and merciless slaughter, as of fifty thou●and he left ●ew a ●ue, t●ose which remained he plagued with all kind o● slavery: returning ●●om with his shameless triumph, he commanded that in the midst of the City there should be made a great scaffold, whereupon within t●nne days I should be executed: these heavy and hapless news being come to mine ears, such sorrowful passions perplexed my mind, as a●ter fl●ud● of brinish t●a●es, I burst forth into these bitter terms.  
O infortunate Arbasto (quoth I) art thou not worthy of this misha● which wilfully sought thine own misery? canst thou accuse the Gods, which didst strive against the Gods? canst thou condemn ●ortune, which hast warred against nature and Fortune? No, no, in suffering reason to yield unto appeti●e, wisdom unto will, and wit unto affection, thou hast procured thine own death, and thy soldiers destruction. Love, yea, love it is that hath procured thy se●●e, beauty that hath bred thy bale: fancy hath given thee the ●o●le, and thine own witless will hath wrought thy owe: the more is thy pain, and the less thou art to be pitied: was ther● none to like but Doralicia? none to choose but thy foe? none to love but th●●● enemy? O vile wretch fraught with careless folly.  
And ●ith that, 〈◊〉 I was ready to exclaim against my cursed destiny, I heard the prison door ●pen, where I saw presently to enter, My●ania, Doralicia● and ●adame V●cchia, who seeing me s●t in such sorrowful dumps, began to smile at my ●olor, and to laugh at my mishap, which wilfully thrust my sel●● into such misery, thinking therefore to aggravate my grief by r●bbing afresh my sore, Doralicia began to gall me on this sort.  
Hearing Arbasto (quoth she) that you were come to prosecute your s●te playing the good Captain, that for the first foil given not over the f●eld, I thought good to give you a smiling look, in recompense o● your fl●ttering love, lest if I should not be so courteous to so kind a Gentleman, th● world should account me ●ngratefull.  
It is truth 〈◊〉 (quoth Myrania) it seems he is a passing amorous lover: but it is pity he hath very ill luck: he chooseth his chaf●●r 〈◊〉, but yet is an unskilful chapman, for if he buy at such an unreasonable rate, he is like to live by the loss.  
Tush (Madam Vecchia) he playeth like the Dragon, who sucking blood out of the Elephant, killeth him, and with the same poisoneth herself: so Arbasto, seeking to betray others, is himself taken in the trap: a just reward for so v●●●●●●ealing and a ●●t revenge for so reckless an enemy.  
And yet (quoth Doralicia) his purpose hath taken small place: for whatsoever his mind was, his malice hath wanted might, wherein he resembleth the Serpent Porphirius, who is full of poison, but being toothless, hurteth none but himself. Surely whatsoever his chance be, he● hath made a very good choice: for he preferreth sweet love befor●●itter death, and the hope of everlasting fame, before the fear of momentary misfortune: he shall now for his constancy be● canonised in Denmark for a saint, and his subjects may boast and say, that A●basto our king died for love.  
Egerio seeing that extremity of gri 〈…〉 o me to utter one word, not able any longer to abide these ●cumps, crossed her with this choleric reply.  
Gentlewoman (quoth he) although I so term you, rather to show m●● own courtesy, than to decipher your conditions, it seemeth nurture hath taught you very few manners, or nature afforded very small mo●●●●y, that seeing one in distress, you should laugh at his dolour, and where the party is crossed with mishap, you would with bitter taunts increase his misery: if he be your fo●, he hath now the foil, he is taken in the snare, his life hangeth in the balance.  
Though your father ●ee without pity, yet in that you are a woman, be not without pity. Hate him if you please as he is your enemy, but despise him not as he i● Arbasto, a king, and your hapless lover: we are captives, not to a worthy conqueror, but to a wretched caitiff: not van 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 by prowess, but by perjury, not by fight, but by falsehood. Who in ou● liue● to thy fathers less, won continual fame, and he by our deaths shall purchase perpetual infamy.  
Doralicia not willing to suffer him wade any further, cut him short in this manner.  
Sir, if brags could stand for payment, I am sure you w●●ld not die in any m●●s debt: but if your prowess had been as good as your prattle, you needed not ●aue danced within so short a t●oder: craven Cocks crow loudest, fearful curs bar●e most, and a heartless coward hath always more tongue th●n a haughty Captain. But I bear● with you, for I doubt the fear of death and danger, hath driven thy master into a cold palsy, and hath mad● th●e either frantic or lunatic, the one showing his melancholy, th● other bewraying thy choler, willing therefore as a friend you should pass over your passions with more patience, we will leave y●u as we found you unless you mean to be shriven, & then I will send you a ghostly father.  
Our confession good mistress (quoth Egerio) requires but a small ●hri●t: for we ●aue very little to say, but that Arbasto reputes that e●e● he loved such a perverse minion, and I that ever trusted such a perjured traitor  
The Gentlewom●n took this for a farewell, pa●sing merrily to the Palace, and leaving us sitting sorrowfully in the prison, bewailing our mishap with tears, and exclaiming against Fortune with bitter curses, what our complaints were it little availeth to rehearse● for it would but drive thee into dumps, and redouble my dolour. Suffice this that we were so long tormented with care, that at last we were past cure, counting this our greatest calamity, that living, every hour we looked to die.  
But as thus we were drowned in distress: so ●oore Myrania had her mind doubtfully perplexed. Nature claimed by due to have th● pre-eminence, and love ●ought by force to win the supremacy. Nature brought in Peloru● aged hairs to make the challenge, and Love presented A●bastoes sweet face to be the Champion: ●●ssed thus with two contrary tempests, at last she began to plead with her passion's.  
Ah thrice infortunate Myrania, what strange fits be these that burn thee with heat, and yet thou shakest with cold the body in a shivering sweat and in a flaming Ice, melting as ●axe, and yet as hard as the Adamant: is it love? then would it were death for likelier it is thou shall lose thy life, than win thy love.  
Ah hapless Arbasto, would to God thy virtues were less than thy beauty, or my ●ertues greater than my auctions: so should I either quickly free myself from fancy, or be less subjected ●o folly.  
But alas I ●éele in my mind fierce skirmishes be●●●●ne reason and appetite, love and wisdom, danger and desire, the one persuading to hate Arbasto as a foe, the other constraining to love him as a friend: If I consent to the first, I end my days with death, if to the last, I shall lead my life with infamy. What shall I then do? Ah Myrania, either swallow the juice of Mandrake, which may cast thee into a dead sleep, or chew the herb Ca●ysium, which may cause thee to hate eu●ry thing, so either shalt thou die in thy slumber, or dislike Arbasto by th● potion.  
Tush poor wench, what folli●s be ●hese? wilt thou with the Wol●e bark at the Moon, or with the young Griphons, peck against the stars? Dost thou think to quench fire with a sword: or with affection to mortify love?  
No, no, if thou be wise suffer not the grass to be cut from under thy feet, strike while the iron is hot, make thy market while the chaffer is to sale.  
Now Arbasto is thine own, now thou mayst win him by love, and wear him by law: thou mayst free him from misery without thy ●athers mishap: thou mayst save his life without thy Father's loss: thou mayst gra●t thy good will unto love, and yet not falsi●●o thy faith unto nature.  
Ca● Arbasto which is so courteous, become so cruel, but he will requite thy love with loyalty, thy faithful fancy, with vn●ained affection?  
No● no, he will and must love thee of force, since thou hast grante● him his life of free will: he will like the● in thy youth, and honour thee in thine age: he will be the port of prosperity wherein thou mayst rest, and the haven o● happiness, wherein thou mayst harbour without harm: so that thou mayst say of him, as Andromache said by Hector, Tu Dominus, tu vir, tu mihi frater ●ri●.  
Yea but Myrania, yet look before ●hou leap, and learn by other men's harms to beware, Ariadne loue● Theseus, fr●ed from him the monstrous Mynotau●e, taught him to pass the Labyrinth, yea forsook Parents and Country for his cause, and yet the guerdon he gave her for her good will, was to leave her a desolate wr●tch in a desert wilderness.  
Medea and jason from the danger of the Dragons, and yet she found him trothless: Phillis ha● bored Demophon, and Dydo, E●●as, yet both repaid thei● love with hate.  
Tush the ●ai●e ●ower ha●● not ●he● best sent: the Lapidaries choose not the stone by the outward colour, but by the secret virtue: Paris was fair, yet false: Thie●tes was beautiful, but deceitful, Vulcan was car●ed in white ivory yet a Smith.  
The precious ston● of M●saulous sepulchre, could not make the dead carcase sweet. Beauty Myrania is not always accompanied with virtue, honesty and constancy: but oft times fraught with ●ice, and perjury. What then? if some were Traitors, shall Arbas●o be trothless? if some we●● fa●se, shall he be faithless? no, his beatle & virtue hath won me: and he himself shall wear● me: I will forsake Father, friend's, and Country, for his cause: ●ea, I will venture 〈◊〉 and life to free h●● from danger, in despite of froward Fortune, and the destinies.   

CHAP. 6. Myrania in love with Arbasto● contriveth his delivery out of prison by a secret policy.  
MYrania being thus resolute in her opinion, began to cast beyond the Moon, and to frame a thousand devices in her h●a● t● bring her purpose to pass, fearing every shadow● doubting every wind, stumbling a●●he lest straw, yet at the last pricked forward by fancy, she thought to prevent al● cause of fea●●●n this wise.  
The evening before she meant to achieve her enterprise, she secretly sent for the jailor by one of her maids, to whom she durst commit ●er secret affairs, who being taught by her mistress to play her part cunningly, brought the jailor into myrania's chamber by a p●●●●rne gate, so that they were neither seen nor suspected of any: wh●re he no sooner came, but he was courteously entertained of th● young Lady, who feigning that she had to debate wi●h ●im of weighty affairs, called him into her closet, where treading vp●n a fal●● board, he fell up to the shoulders, not being able to help himself, but ●hat he there ended his life.  
Myrania having desperately atchie●ed this deed, ●h●e straight sought ●ot to rob him of his coin, but to bereave him of his keys, which after she had got, a●d conveyed his carcase into a s●●ret place● she went in her night gown, accompanied only with her maid to the prison.  
Arbasto and Egerio hearing the doors o●●n at such an unaccustomed hour, began strait to conjecture, that P●lorus sought to murder them secretly, lest his own people should accuse him o● cruelty: but as ●hey looked to have seen the jailor, they spi●d Myrania in her night gown: which sudden and unlooked for sight so appalled their senses, as they were driven into a maze, till Myrania wakened them from th●i● dumps with this sugared harmony.  
I perceive A●basto, that my presence doth make th●e to muse, and my sudden arrival hath driven thee into a maze: what strange w●nd should la●d me in this coast. In tr●th thou mayst think either my message is great, or my modesty little, either that I take small care of myself, or repose very great trust in thee, who at a time unfit for my calling, have without any guard come to a stranger, a captive, yea and my father's fatal foe. I confess it is a fault if I were not ●orst: but seeing that necessity hath no law. I think I have the less● broken the law. But to leave off these needless preamble●, where d●lay breeds no less danger than death: know this Arbasto, that since thy first arrival at my Father's Court, my eyes have been so dazzled with the beams of thy beauty, and my mind so snare● with view of thy virtues, as tho● only art the man, whom in heart I love and like: seeing thee therefore drowned here by adverse Fortune, in most hapless ●istresse, willing to manifest the loyalty of my love in effect, which I have protested in words, I have rather chosen to hazard both my life and honour, than not to offer thee peace, if thou wilt agree unto the conditions. As my Father hath wrought thy woe, I will work thy weal: as he hath sought thy bale, I will procure thy bliss: from penury I will set thee in prosperity. I will free th●● from prison, from danger, yea from death itself, I will in yielding to love, descent from nature, to lea●e my Father, friends, and Country, and pass with thee into De●marke. And to cut off speeches, which might seem to savour either of flattery, or deceit: as thou art the first unto whom I have vowed my love, so thou shalt b● the la●●, requiring no meed for my merit, nor no other guerdon for my good will, but that thou wilt take me to thy wife, a●d in pledge of my truth, see here the keys, and all other things provided for our sp●edi● passage.  
Myrania had no sooner uttered these words, but my mind w●s so ravished, as I was driven into an ecstasy for joy, seeing that the terror of my death was taken away with the hope of life, that from hea●inesse, I should ●e ●●stored to happiness, ●●d from most careful misery, to most secure fel●citie, I therefore framed her this answers.  
Ah Myran●a, ●he purest Cincelle ●●ineth brightest when it hath no oil, and truth delighteth when it is appareled worst. Flatter I will not● faithful I ●ust be willed from the one by conscience, and driven to the other by your courtesy, which by how much the less I have merited it by desert, by so much the more I am bound to requited it b● duty. To decipher in coloured discourses, and to paint out with curious sha●o●es, how ●u●bly I accept of your o●fer, and how greatly I think myself beholding to the Gods, for blessing me w●th such an happy chance, what my loyalty and truth shall be, were but to prove that which your Ladyship, hoping of my constancy, hath not put in question. The guerdon you crave for your good will is such, that i● your courtesy had not forced me to it by constraint, ye● your beauties and virtues are so great, as fancy would have compelled me by consent. Myrania, what thou canst wish in a true and trusty Lover, I promise to perform, swearing unto thee, that the ●louds shall flow against the streams, the earth shall mount against his course, yea my carcase shall be consumed unto dust and ashes, before my mind shall be found disloyal, and to this I call the Gods to witness, of whom I desire no longer to li●e, than I mean simply to love.  
Oh Arbasto (quoth she) would God I had never seen thief or that I may find thy works according to thy words, otherwise shall I have cause to wish I had been more cruel, or less courteous. But love will not let me doubt the worst, but bids me hope the best: yet thus much I may say, when jason was in danger, who more faithful? when Theseus feared the Labyrinth, who more loyal? when Demophon suffered shipwreck, who more loving? but I will not say what I think Arbasto, because thou shalt not suspect I fear●.  
Madam● (quoth Eger●o) Arbasto is my sovereign, and I both honour and ●eare him as a subject, yet if he should but once in heart think to be disloyal to Myrania, the Gods confound me with all earthly plagues, if I would not of a trusty friend, become his mortal foe.  
It is easy to persuade her Egerio (quoth she) who already is most willing to believe, let us leave therefore these needless protestations, and go to the purpose, delay breeds danger, time tarrieth for no man, speed in necessity is the best spur, let us hast therefore till we get forth of France, lest if we be prevented, it breed my mishap, and your fatal misery.  
Upon this we stayed not, but shutting the prison close, got covertly out of the City, passing throu●● France with many fearful perils, which to rehearse, were●●●he, needless, or ●ootlesse: suffice this, we at last happily arrived at Denmark, where how I was welcomed home with triumphs, were too long to relate. But how P●lorus was perplexed, after he knew of our happy departure, though (God ●ot) most hapless unto him, I refer to thy ●ood consideration to conjecture. The old man fretted not so fast in his melancholy, but Doralicia chased as much in her choler, blaspheming bitterly both against me and her sister Myrania: but as words break no bones, so we cared the less for her scolding, fearing not the noise of the piece as long as we were without danger of the shot. Well, leaving them to their dumps to us again which floated in delight: ●cki● Fortune having now hoist us up to the top of her inconstant wheel, seeing how careless I slumbered in the cradle of security, thought to make me a very mirror of her mutability, for she began a fresh to turn my tippet on this wise.  
As daily I flattered Myrania, for fancy her I could not, promising with speed to call a Parliament for the confirmation of the marriage, I still felt the stumps of the old love I bare Doralicia to stick in my stomack●, the mor● closely I covered the sparks, the more the flame burst forth, I found absence to increase affection, not to decrease fancy: in the day my mind doted of her virtues, in the night I dreamt of her beauty: yea, Cupid began to encounter m● with so fresh canmizados, as by distance my distress was far more augmented, such sighs, such sobs, such thoughts, such pains and passions perplexed me, as I felt the last assault worse than the former battery. If I loved Doralicia in France, I now liked her thrice better being in Denmark. If in presence her person pleased me, now in absence her perfection more contented me. To conclude, I swore to myself with a solemn sigh. Doralicia was, is, and shall be the mistress of my heart in despite of the froward destinies: yet amazed at mine own●●olly, I began thus to muse wi●h myself.  
O foolish Arbasto, nay rather frantic fondling, hast thou less reason then unreasonable creatures? the Tiger flieth the train, the Lion escheweth the n●ts, the Dear avoideth the coil's, because they are taken with these instruments, and art thou so mad, as having escaped pikes, wilfully to thrust thyself into peril? The child being burnt ha●eth the fire, but thou being an old fool, wilt with the worm Naplitia no sooner come out of the coals, but leap into the flame. But alas what then: I see the measure of love is to h●ue no mean, and the end to be everlastings that to love is allotted to all, but to be happy in love, content to feel● why, shall I be so mad to love Doralicia, or so fraughted with ingrateful perjury, as not to like My●ania? the one hath crossed me with bitter girds, the other courted me wi●h sweet glances. Doralicia hath rewarded me with disdaine● Myran●a entreated me with desire, the one hath saved my life, the other sought my death. O Arbasto thou seest the best, but I fear like to follow the worst. Alas I cannot but love Doralicia, what then? what res●eth for me to do, but to dy● with patience, seeing I cannot live with pleasure: yea Arbasto, die, die, rath●r wit● a secret scar, than an open scorn, for ●ho● m●ist well su●, but ne●er shalt thou have good success. And y●t Lions ●awne when they ar● clawed: the most cruel Tigers stoop when they are tickled: and Women, though ne●er so obstinate, y●●l● wh●n they are courted. There is n● Pearl● so hard, but vinegar breaketh: n● Diamond so stony, but blood molli●●eth, no heart so stiff, but love weakeneth: what though Doralicia sought thy d●ath, perhaps now ●he repent●, and will give thee life● though at the ●●rst she cast thee a stone, she will now throw thee an apple. Why then Arbasto assault her once again with a fr●sh charge, seek to g●t th●t by Letter●, which thou couldst not gain● by talk, for one line is of more ●orce to persuade, than a months par●e, for in writing, thou mayst so set down thy passions, & h●r perfections, as ●●●e shall ha●● cause to think well of thee, and better of herself, b●t yet so warily, as it shall be hard for her to judge whether thy love b● more faithful, or her beauty amiable.   

CHAP. 7. Arbasto strangely transported with Doralicia● love, forgetteth myrania's kindness, and sendeth covertly to Doralicia, who again denieth him.  
Having thus determined with myself, though as covertly as I could to conceals my ●affaires, lest either Myrania or Egerio should spy my halting, I pri●●ly sent an Ambassador to Pelo●us, to entreat for a contract between us, and also to cra●e his ●aughter Doralicia in marriage, promising to send him Myrania safe upon thi● consent, and withal I framed a Letter to Doralicia to this effect.  
Arbasto, to the fairest Doral●cia, health.  
SUch and so extreme are the passion● of love (Doralicia) that th● more they are quenched by dis●●ses, the g●●●t●r flames is increased by desire, and the more they are galled wi●h hat●, the more th●y gape after love, like ●o the stone Tapozon, which being once kindled, burn●th most vehemently in the water. I speak ●his (th● greater is my grief) by proof and experience, for having my heart sco●ched with the beams of thy beauty, and my mind innamed wit● t●y singular virtue, neither can thy bitter l●●kes abat● my love, nor extreme discourt●●●● diminish my affection. No Doralici●, I am not he that will leau● the sweet Englantin● because it pricks my finger, and refuse the gold in the fire because it burned my hand, for the mind● of a faithful lover, is neither to be daunted with ●espight, nor affrighted with daun●er: but as the Loadstone, what wind● soever doth blow, turns always to the North, so the love of Arbasto is evermore bend to the beauty and virtue of Doralicia, whatsoever misfortune happeneth. Y●●, i● fareth with me as with the herb Bas●ll, th● which the mo●e it is crushe●, the sooner it springeth, ●r the pur● spice, w●ich the more it is pounded, the sweeter it ●●●●leth, or the Camomile, which the more it is trodden with the fée●e, the more it flourisheth: so in these extremities, beaten 〈◊〉 to the ground with disdain, yet my love reacheth to the top of the house with hope. ●it● than Doralicia, thy beauty hath 〈◊〉 the sore, let thy bounty apply the salve, as thy virtue hath caused my malady, so let thy merci● gi●● the medicine, repay not my constancy with cruelty, requited not my love with hate, and my desire with d●spight, lest thou procure my speedy de●th, ●nd thy endless infamy. Thus hoping thou wilt hau● some remorse of my passions, I attend ●hy friendly sentence, and my fatal destiny.  
Thine ever, though never thine, Arbasto,  
AS soon as I had written my Letter, I dispatched the Messenger as speedily and priu●ly as might be, who within the space of thré● weeks arrived at Orleans, where delivering his embassage to Pelorus, and my Letter to Doralicia, he stayed for an answer the spac● of ten days, in which time, Pelorus consulting with his Councel● wa● very willing to grant me his daughter in marriage, but that by no meanus he could win the good will of Doralicia, seeing therefore no perswas●●●● could prevail, he dispatched my messenger with denial, and Doralicia returned me this froward answer.  
Doralicia ●o Arbasto.  
WHere didst thou learn●●ond ●oole, ●hat being forbidden to be ●in●, thou shouldest grow impudent? that willed to leave off thy sut●, y●t thou shoulders be importunate? do●st tho● think with the Span●●●, by ●awning when thou art beaten, to make thy foe, thy ●ri●nd? ●o, let ●ther● deem of thee what they list, I will count thee ● c●r. Dost tho● thinks I will be drawn by thy counterfeit conceits, a● the straw by the jet, or as t●e g●ld by the mineral Chrisocalla? No, no, if thou seekest to obtain ●auour at my hands, thou doe●● strive to wring water out of th● Pummices, and do●● work th● means to increase ●hine own s●ame and severity: for as by instinct of nature, there is a secret hate, between the vine and the cabbage, betw●ene the Boar and the Gourd, and between the iron and the Theamides, so in my mind I feel a secret grudge between Arbasto and Doralicia: cease then to gape for that thou shalt never get, and take this both f●r a warning and an answer: For if tho● prosecute thy suit, tho● dost but persecute thyself, seeing I am neither to be wooed with thy passion● whilst thou livest, nor to repent me of my rigour when thou art dead. For I swear, that I will never consent to love him, whose sight (if I may say with modesty) is more bitter unto m● than death. Short I am though sharp, for I love not to ●atter, take this therefore for thy farewell, that I li●e to hate thee.  
Willing after death, if it could be, thy foe, D●ralicia.  
After that the Messenger was returned to Denmark, a●d that I had received and read the Letter, such sundry thought assailed me, that I bec●me almost frantic: ●eare, despaice, grie●e, ●●te, choler, wrath, desire of revenge, & what not, so tormented my mind, that I fell ●o raging against the G●ds, ●o r●●l●ng at Doral●cia, and to cursing of all ●●ma● kind, conceiving such an extreme hate against her, as be●o●e I loved her not so hearty, as now I loathed her hatefully, counting myself an ungrate wretch toward My●●ni●, and calling to mind her bea●●ie and vert●e, her bounty and courtesy, I ●ell more deeply in lo●e with he●, than ever with Doral●cia, so that I could not spare one glance from gazing upon her person, nor draw my mind from musing on her perfection. But a sudden change, alas a sorrowful chance.  
Myrania perceiving me sou●ed of these sorrowful dumps, began strait without casting any water, to conjecture my disease, and ●o sh●●●●t that, which indeed she hit without any great aim. But as lo●e is most suspicio●s, so she began to doubt the worst, fe●●ing that as yet the beauty of Doralicia was not blotted out of my mind●, searching ●herefore narrowly what she could either hear● or learn of my secret●, a● last she foun● out that which wrought he● final mishap, and my fatal misery. For by luckless chance, leaving the door of my closet open, Myrania thinking to find me at my Muses, stumbled on the copy of my Letter, which I sent to Doralicia, and upon the answer which I received from that ruthless Minion. ●hich after she had read, perceiving how traitorously I had requited her love with hate● she conveyed ●er self covertly into her Chamber, where, after she had almost dimmed her sight with floods of tears, and burst her heart with blowing sighs, she fell into these complaints.  
O infortunate Myrania, O hapless Myrania, yea, O thrice accursed Myrania, whom Fortune by spite seeketh to soil, whom the destinies by fate are appointed to plague, and whom the gods by justice will and must most cruelly revenge. Thou hast been a parricide to thy father, in seeking to destroy him by thy disobedience: thou art a traitor to thy Country, in saving the enemy of the Commonwealth, & thou art a foe to nature, in loving disloyal Arbasto: & can the Gods but plague those monstrous injuries? No, no Myrania, thou hast deserved more mishap than either Fortune can, or will afford thee. Ah cruel and accursed Arbasto, I see now that it fareth with thee, as with the Panther, which having made one astonished with his fair sight, seeketh to devour him with bloody pursuit, & with me poor wench, as it doth with them that view the Basilisk, whose eyes procure delight to the looker at the first glimpse, but death at the second glance. Alas, was there none to like but thy foe? none to love but Arbasto? none to fancy but a perjured Dane? none to match with but a flattering mate. Now hath thy lawless love gained a luckless and: now thou triest by experience, that the tre● Alpin● is smooth to be touched, but bitter to b●e tasted: that the fairest Serpent is most infectious, the ●●est colour soon stained, the clearest glass most brittle, and that lovers, though they bear a delicate show, yet they have a deceitful substance: that if they have honey in their mouths, yet they hau● gal● in their hearts: the more is the pity, in thee to tru●t without trial, and the great● impiety for him to be a traitor, being so well truste●.  
Is this this the curteise of Denmark towards friends, to entreat them so dis●ightfull●? is my goodwill not only rejected without cause, but also dis●ained without colour? Alas what shall I do to this extremity being a forlorn wretch, in a foreign Country? which wa● shall I turn me, of whom shall I seek remedy? Pelorus will reject me, and why should he not? Arbasto hath re●●cted me, and why should hee● the one I have offended wish too much grief, the other I have served with too great good will: the one is lost with love, the other with hate: Pelorus, because I cared not for him: Arbasto, because I cared for him, but alas too much. And with that she fetch such a sigh, as witnessed a heart pained with most intolerable passions, yea car● and grief so fiercely and freshly assaulted her, as sh●e fell into a fever, refusing all sustenance, wishing and calling for nothing but death.  
While she thus p●ned away with grief, I thought to search out her sore, but I could not perceive the cause of her sorrow, only I did conjecture this, that she doubted my Nobles would not consent to our marriage: to ●id her therefore of this care, I presently called a Parliament, where without any great controversy it was concluded.  
This news being come to the ears of Myrania, it no whi● decreased her dolour, but did rather far the more augment her distress, which made Egerio to muse, and dra●e me into a great maze: so that accompanied with my Nobles, I went to comfort her, and to carry her news, that if she could but come into the Chamber of her presence, she should there be crowned Queen. But alas, when I came & saw her ●o altered in one w●●ke, wasted to the hard bones, more like a ghost ●han a living creature, I began thus to comfort her.  
Ah Myrania quoth I) more loved of me than mine own life, and more dear unto me● than myself, would God I might be plagued with all earthly diseases, so I might see thee free from distress: how can Arbasto be without sorrow to see Myrania oppressed with sickness? how can he but ●inke in calamity, to see her but once touched with care? alas, unfold unto me thy sore, and I will apply the salve, make me privy to thy malady, & I will procure a medicine: If want of wealth work thy wor, thou hast the kingdom of Denmark to dispose at thy pleasure: if absence from friends, thou hast such a friend ●f thy loving spouse A●basto, as death itself shall never dissolve our love.  
I had no sooner uttered this word, but Myrania, as one possessed with some hellish fury, start up in her bed, with staring looks, and wrathful countenance, seeming by her raging gestures to be in a frenzy●: but being kept down by her C●●es, she roared out these hateful curses.  
O vile wretches (quoth she) will you not suffer me in my life to revenge myself on that perjured traitor Arbasto, yet shall you not deny me but after death my ghost shall torment him with ga●●ly vi●●ons. O thrice accursed caitive, dost thou seem to help me with thy scabbard, and secretly hurt me with thy sword: dost thou offer m●e honey openly, and privily present me with gall? dost thou say th●u wilt cure me with love, when thou seekest to kill me with hate? have I redeemed thee from mishap, and wilt thou requite me with misery? wa● I the means to save thy life, and wilt thou without cause procure my death? have I forsaken my Country, betrayed my Father, and yet wilt thou kill me with discourtesy? O hapless Myrania, could not Medea's mishap have made thee beware? could not Ariadne's ill luck have taught thee to take heed? could not Phillis misfortune have feared thee from the like folly: but thou must like and love a straggling stranger? Ay m● that repentance should ever come too late: folly is sooner remembered then redressed, and time may be repent, but not recalled.  
But I see it is a practice in men to ●aue as little care of their own ●●thes, as of their Lady's honours, imitating jupiter, who never kept ●ath he swore to juno, didst thou not false Arbasto protest with solemn vows, when thy life did hang in the balance, that thy love to Myrania should be always loyal, and hast thou not since sent and sued secretly, to win the good will of D●●alicia? didst thou not swear to take me to thy mate, and hast thou not since sought to contract with h●r a new match? thou didst promise to be true unto me, but hast proved trusty unto her: what should I say, thou hast presented her with pleasant drinks, and poisoned me with bitter potions, the more is my penury, and the greater is thy perjury. But vil● wretch, dost thou think this thy villainy shall be unrevenged. No● no Egerio, I hope the Gods have appointed thee to revenge my iniu●ies, thou hast sworn it, and I fear not but thou wilt perform it. And that thou mayst know I exclaim not without cause, see here the Letters which have passed between this false traitor and Doralicia.  
The sight of these Letters so galled my guilty conscience, as I stood as one astonished, not knowing what to do, excuse myself I could not, confirm my love I durst not, yet at last the water standing in mine eyes, clasping her hand in min●, I was ready to crave pardon, if she had not prevented me with these injurious speeches.  
Clear thy false trayte●●● Arbasto thou canst not persuade me● thou shalt not, for●iue thee I will not, cease therefore to speak for in none of these thou shalt speed. Eger●o I saved thy life, than revenge my death, and so content I die, yet only discontent in this, that I cannot live to hate Arbasto so long as I loved him.  
And with that turning upon her left side, with a gasping sigh she gave up the ghost which sight drove me into such a desperate minde● that if Egerio and the rest had not holden me, I had sent my soul with he●● to the grave.   

CHAP. 8● After myrania's death, Doralicia relenteth, and sendeth to Arb●sto, who then hated her as much as he loved her before.  
AFter myrania's death, being carried by force to my b●d, I lay for certain days oppressed with such sorrow, as if I had been in a tranc●, cursing and accusing myself of ingratitude, of perjury, and of most despiteful disloyalty, I lay perplexed with inc●●●ant passions.  
W●ll, this heavy and hapless news being noised in France, Pelorus taking the death of his daughter to heart● in short time died, leaving Doralicia the only inheritor of his kingdom.  
But yet see how Fortune framed up this tragedy, who meant t● ca●● Doralicia from most happy felicity, to most hapless miseri●: for she seeing that no sini●●er chance could change my affection, that neither the length of time, nor the distance of place, the spite of Fortune, the fear of death, nor h●r most cruel discourtesy, could diminish my lou●: musing I say, on this my inviolable constancy, Cupid meaning to reu●ng●, seeing her now at discovert, drew home to th● head, and struck her so deep at the heart, as in despite of Vesta she veiled bonnet, and gi●ing ground, sobbed forth secretly to she these words: Alas I lo●e Arbasto, and none but Arbasto.  
Venus' seeing that her boy had so well played the man, began to triumph over Doralicia, who now was in her dumps, striving as yet between love and hate, till fancy s●t in her foot, and then she yielded up the bulwark in these peaceable terms.  
Why how now Doralicia (quoth she) dost thou dream or dote? Is it folly or frenzy: melancholy or madness, that driveth thee thus into dumps, and so strangely distresseth thee with dole●? what ●on● thoughts, what unacquainted passions: what slumbering imaginations are these which perplexeth thee? hast thou now ●●ele fire to spring out of the co●d flint? heat to ●ry or 〈◊〉 th● chilling frost? love to come from hate, an● desire from dis●●ine? Dost th●u fare as though thou hadst been drenched in the River jellus in Phrig●a? which at the first br●edeth sorrow through extreme cold, but forthwith burneth the sinews through raging heat? Hath V●●us now in despite of Vest● made th●e vail ●onnet? the more (poor wench) is thy mishap, and the worse i● thy fortune: for love (though never so sweet) cannot yet h● digested without a most sharp sauce: faring like the gold that is never p●●ect till it hath passed through the furnace●  
Love Dolaricia, but whom dost thou love, Arbas●o: what the man whom even now thou didst s● deadly hate? hast thou so littl● force over thy affections, as to fancy thy ●oe? No, no, fond fool, Arbasto is thy friend, and one that honoureth thee as a Saint, and would seru● thee as his sovereign, that loveth and liketh thee as much as thou canst desire, but more than thou dost deserve, who being bitterly crossed with discourtesy, could never be touched of inconstancy: but still remaineth like to Aristo●les Quadratus, which howsoever it is turned always standeth steadfast. Thou canst not then of conscience Doralicia, but repay his love with liking, and his firm fancy with mutual affection: he is beautiful to please the eye, virtuous to content the mind: rich to maintain thy honour, of birth to countervail thy parentage, wise, courteous, and constant, and what wouldst thou ●aue more?  
Yea but alas I have rejected his service, and now he will not respect my suit: I have detested him, and now he will despise me: I have requited his good will with cruelty, and he will revenge me wit● contempt.  
Better hadst thou then conceal it with grief, than revelle it t● thine own shame: for if thou aim at the white and miss the mark, thou shalt be pointed at of those that hate thee, pitied of those that love thee, scorned at by him, and talked of by all: suffer rather then (poo●● Doralicia) death by silence, than derision by revealing thy secrets, for death cutte●h off all care, but decision bre●deth endless calamity.  
Tush dost tho● think Arbasto can so harden his heart, as to hate thee, so ma●●●r hi● affection's as to flee from fancy, that he will become so proud as to r●fus● thy proffer? No, if thou sendest him but one line, it will mor● harm him, than all Circe's enchantments: if thou lendest but one friendly look, it will be more esteemed than li●e. Why, but Doralicia● and with that she sat still as one in a ●rance, building castle's in the a●re, ha●ging be●w●en● fear and hope, trust and disprize, doubt 〈…〉 elf therefore from these ●umps, sh● took her Lu●e, whereupon 〈…〉 this ditty: 

IN time we see that silver drops  
The craggl● stones make soft●  
The slow●st ●n●ile in time, we see,  
D●th creese and climb alo●t.   

With feeble puffs the tallest pine  
In tract of time doth fall●  
The hardest heart in time doth yield  
To Venus' luring call.   

Where chilling frost o'late did nip,  
There flasheth now a fire:  
Where deep disdain bred noisome hate,  
There kindleth now desire.   

Time causeth hope to have his hap,  
What c●re in time not eased?  
In time I loathed that now I love,  
In both content and pleased.    
Doralicia having ended her ditty, laid down her Lute, and betook her to her former passions, wherein she had not long plodded, but she determined to write unto me with as much speed as might be, framing her Letters to this effect.  
Doralicia to Arbasto, health.  
WEighing with myself (Arbasto) that to be unjust, is to offer injury to the Gods, and that without cause to be cruel, is against all conscience: I have thought good to make amends for that which is amiss, & of a feigned foe, to become thy faithful friend: for since the receipt of thy Letters, calling to mind the perfection of thy body, and perfectness of thy mind, thy beauty and virtue, thy curtes●e and constancy, I have been so snared with ●ancy, and fettered with affection, as the Idea of thy person hath p●●●hed me with most hapless passions.  
If I have been reckless of th● 〈◊〉 will, 〈◊〉 m●, if ruthless through cruel speeches, I 〈…〉 now, that of late I loathed, and desiring 〈…〉 even n●w I ●●spis●d, which a● often as I call to mind, I can not but blush to myself for shame● and fall out with myself for anger.  
But the purest Diamond is to be cut before it be worn, the Frankincense is to be burnt before it be smelled, and Lovers are to b● tried before they be trusted, lest, shining like the Carbuncle, a● though they had fire, yet being touched, they prove passing cold, for the mind by trial once scoured of mistrust, becometh more fit ever after to belief: so that Arbasto, as I have pined thee with bitter pills, I will now pamper thee with sweet potions: as I have galled thee with cruelty, I will heal thee with courtesy: yea, if thy good nature can forget that which my ill tongue doth repent, or thy most constant kindness forgive that my unbridled fury did commit, I will countervail my former discourtesy with ensuing constancy, I will be as ready after to take an injury, as I was to give an offence, thou shalt find my love and duty such and so great, as ●ither Doralicia can perform, or Arbasto desire. And thus committing my life and my living into your hands. I attend thine answers, and rest more thine than her own.  
Doralicia.  
The Messenger by whom she sent this message, making speed to perform his Mistress command, arrived within few days at Denmark, where delivering me the Letter, I was greatly amazed at the sight thereof, musing what the contents should be, at last unripping the se●les, I perceived to what Saint Doralicia bent her devotion, but the shower came too late when the grass was withered: yet I stood for a time astonished, hovering between love and hate. But at the last such loathsome misliking of her former discourtesy so incensed my land, that to displease her, and to despite Fortune, I returned her speedily this hateful answer.  
To Doralicia● neither health nor good hap.  
I Received thy Letter Doralicia, which no sooner I read with mine ●ye, but I threw into the fl●● wi●h my hand, least by viewing them I should grow into great fury, or by keeping them show ●hee any friendship. For we shun the place of pestilence for fear of infection, the looks 〈◊〉 the Catharis because of diseases: the eyes of the Cockatrice for fear of death, City's drinks are dreadful charms, and Siren's t●nes doubting enchantments: should I not then eschew thy alluring baits, when thou hast galled me with the hook? ye● I will, and must, least I be entrapped with thy sub●ilt●e, or entangled with thy sorcery. Truly Doralicia that once I loved thee I cannot deny, that now being free I should fall to such folly, I more than utterly refuse, for as before I liked thee in constant hope, so n●w I lo●th thee wi●●●●t●full contempt, comparing thy cursed nature to the herb Basill, which both engendereth Serpents, and killeth them: so th● show of thy virtue inflamed me with love, but the trial of thy vanity hath quenched it with hate. Hate, yea, I more than hate thee, most cruel and ingrateful monster, whose beauty I hope was given thee of the Gods, as well to procure thine own misery, as others mishap, which if I might live to see, as Infortunio did by Eriphila, I would think I did lead my hapless life to a most happy end. Thus thou seest how I account of thy love and accept of thy Letters, esteeming the one filthy cha●●er, and the other as forged charme●, and saying to them both, that proffered service stink●. Wa●t more wind I will not, to sp●●d more time is most ill spent, therefore take this as a farewell, that if I hear of thy good hap, I live displeased, if of thy misfortune, content, if of thy death, most sorrowful, that the Gods did not give thee many days, and much distress: so wishing thee what ●pight either Fortune or the Fates can afford. Adieu.  
Sworn thy foe till death. Arbasto.   

CHAP. 9 Doralicia having received Ar●astoes unkind answer, dieth of a Frenzy: and Arbasto is banished his Kingdom.  
DOralicia having received these Letters, and read the contents, was so impatient in her passions, that she fell in to a Frenzy, having nothing in her mouth but Ar●●●●o, A●b●sto, ever doubling thi● word with such pitiful cries and scrich●s, as would have moved any but me to remorse: she continued not in this case long before she died. But I alas leading a loathsome life, was mo●● 〈◊〉 crossed by fortune, for Ege●io conspiring with th● 〈◊〉 of my Realms in short time by civil wars dispossessed me of my Crown and Kingdom. Forced then to 〈◊〉 f●om mine own ●ubi●cts: after some travel I arrived at this 〈◊〉, where considering with myself the fickle inconstancy of unjust Fortune● I have ever since lived content 〈◊〉 this Cell to des●i●: ● Fort●n●, one wh●●● sorrowing for the mishap of Myrania, and another while joying at th● misery of Doralicia: but always smiling that by contemning fortun●, I learn to lead her in triumph. Thus thou hast heard wh● in mine estate I pass my days content: rest therefore satisfied, that thus I have lived, and thus I mean to die.  
FINIS.