THE MOST EXcellent History of Lysimachus and Varrona, daughter to Syllanus, Duke of Hypata, in Thessalia. Wherein are contained the effects of Fortune, the Wonders of affection, and the conquests of incertain Time. By I. H. R. — Sectantem grandia nerui Deficient, animusque— LONDON Printed by Thomas Creed. 1604. TO THE RIGHT Honourable Henry Wriothesly, Earl of Southampton, and Baron of Titchfield: I. H. wisheth increase of all virtuous and Honourable resolutions. REport (Right Honourable) that hath ennobled your singular, and manifold virtues, by nature and fortune, to the worlds recommendation, hath induced me, to thrust into the open light this my abortive issue, to be shrouded under the shadow of your Lordship's wings, the fruit of some idle hours, sith after many thoughts I could not excogitate any more pleasing recreation, whereon I might bestow times of leisure. The argument I confess, is of too base consequence; to procure your liking, or deserve your allowing. Nevertheless the force of duty, and zeal, possessing the chiefest portion of mine interests, overrule my thoughts and resolutions, in hazarding the entertainment thereof, at your favourable courtesy, and construction. And if I may perceive that your Lordship affords the countenance, to grace my papers with the demonstration, of the extremest degree of good liking, I shall be emboldened to raise my Muse's note, that now yields harsh music, to an higher key, a fairer fruit, of my better ordered vacant hours, and manifest my duty to your Honour, in some matter of greater import, than a superficial toy. But fearing to grow offensive through tediousness, I commit this simple work to your Lordship's patronage, and your Honour to the Almighty's protection: for the preservation of which, I will pray continually. I end. Your Lordship's most firmly devoted in all serviceable endeavours. I. H. To the Gentlemen Readers. GEntlemen, I have written the History of Lysimachus and Varrona, a work attempted to win your favours, but to discover mine own ignorance, in that ranging in a large field of copious matter, and being engulphed in an Ocean of conceit, I lie there overwhelmed. If my method be nothing pleasant, yet presuming upon your courtesies, I doubt not but you will smother it up with patience: and the virtue of your affection I trust will stand in the front as a strong fort of defence, to shield me from the descanting verdicts of such unfriendly Readers, which conceiting the Author's intent amiss, may wrest his meaning by wrong conjectures: and from the sour censures of the over-curious Moralists of our age, which glory to be termed the new uprearers of the long ago confuted Stoical Apathy. Howsoever the case standeth, I look for no praise for my labour, but pardon for my good will: it is the greatest reward that I dare ask, and the least which may be offered: I desire no more, I deserve no less. Thus Gentlemen, committing these my labours to your friendly view, and submitting myself to your courteous censures, I end: wishing to you all several good fortunes. Farewell. I. H. R. Verses in praise of the Book. COme see this work that is but slily wrought, Take but this simple travail in your view, As in a mirror there is deeply taught, The wanton vices of proud fancy's crew: There is depainted by most curious art; How love and folly jump in every part. This little Pamphlet more conceit combines, Then wanton Ovid in his art did paint: And sharper satires are within his lines, Then Martiala sung proud Venus to attaint. Sith then his art doth plainly yield such gains, Read it, and thank the Author for his pains. Ro. Bacchus. YE English gallants stoop and gather bays, Make Coronets of Flora's proudest flowers, As gifts for him, for he must have the praise, And taste the dews that high Parnassus' showers: As having leapt beyond old Ovid's strain, In taunting Lovers for their fruitless pain. Tho: Talkinghame, Gentleman. THE MOST EXcellent History of Lysimachus and Varrona, Daughter to Syllanus Duke of Hypata in Thessalia. IN Thessalia, when Nature hath made the soil proud with the beauty of Flora's riches, as though she meant to wrap Teilus in the glory of her vestments, there dwelled a Magnifico▪ a man of most honourable parentage, whom Fortune had graced with many favours, and Nature honoured with sundry exquisite qualities, so beawtified with the excellency of both, as it was a question whether Fortune or Nature were more prodigal in desciphering the riches of their bounties. This Knight thus enriched with virtue and honour, surnamed Syllanus, had to joy him in his age a daughter of great beauty, so exquisite in her exterior feature, as no blemish might eclipse that which Nature had bestowed in her lineaments. This Damsel whose name was Varrona, daily used to traverse the plains wherein her father's sheep were kept, partly to prevent inconveniences which through idleness might have annoyed ●●●●ealth, and partly to ply the care of her father's folds: (for sh● knew that the eyes of the master fáedes the cattle) which with such diligence was performed, as that she seemed with labour to enter 〈◊〉 against want and with her hands thrift to preoccupaie her heart's grief. 〈◊〉 thus daily the walks of Thessalia, the Shepherds not a little delighted at the view of so excellent an object, held their eyes fortunate when they might behold her feature, accounting him happy that could lay his flocks nearest unto her walks. Amongst these that fed their thoughts on her favours, there was one called Lysimachus, a young youth, that had the pride of his years triumphing in his countenance, a man, whose parentage though it were worshipful, yet was it not endued with much wealth, insomuch that his wit was better than his revenues, and his industry more beneficial than his substance. This Lysimachus travailing amongst the lawns, no sooner had a glance of her beauty, but set down his staff, resolving either to perish in so sweet a labyrinth, or in time happily to stumble out with Theseus: In which ecstasy he shall remain, till we have described the cause why he left Macedonia his native country, and the perilous events which happened during his voyage hither into Thessalia. This youth was one of the sons of Alexandro, who having passed the prime of his youth in sundry battles against Astolpho king of Lydia, at last (as the date of time hath his course) grew aged, his hairs were silver hewed, and the map of his age was figured on his forehead, in such sort, as that all men might perceive his glass was run, and that nature of necessity challenged her due. Alexandro that knew the term of his life was now expired, having two sons by his wife Olympias, the very pride of his forepast years, thought now, seeing death by constraint would compel him to leave them, with wholesome admonitions and loving persuasions for the increasing of their ensuing amity, to distribute in their portions the substance of his wealth for the countercheck of poverty. All which being done, to the end that they might not forget his axioms, he gave them a scroll, wherein they might read what their father dying, willed them to execute living. At which Alexandro shrunk down in his bed, and gave up the ghost. Whose death was greatly lamented of his two sons, and bewailed of all his friends, especially of his fellow warriors, who attended on his funerals, which were performed with great solemnities. His obsequies done, Valentine caused his Epitaph, with the contents of the scroll to be portrayed out, which were to this effect. The contents of the Schedule, which Alexandro gave to his sons. 1 LEt God's worship be your morning's work, and his wisdom the direction of your days labour. 2 Rise not without thanks, neither sleep without repentance. 3 Choose but a few friends, and try those, for the flatterer speaks fairest. 4 If you have discreet wives, make them your Secretaries, else lock your thoughts in your hearts, for women are seldom silent. 5 If they be fair, be not jealous, for suspicion cures not women's follies. 6 If they be wise, wrong them not: for if they love others, they will loathe you. 7 Let your children's nurture be their richest portion: for wisdom is more precious than wealth. 8 Be not proud amongst your poor neighbours: for a poor man's hate is perilous. 9 Nor too familiar with great men: for presumption wins disdain. 10 Neither too prodigal in your fare, nor die indebted to your bellies, enough is a feast. 11 Be not envious, lest ye fall in your own imaginations. 12 Use patience, mirth, and quiet: for care is an enemy to health. Valentine having thus set up his schedule, & hanged about his father's coffin many passionate poems, that all Macedonia might suppose him to be passing sorrowful, clad himself and his younger brother Lysimachus all in black, and in such sable suits discoursed his grief: But as the Hyena when she mourns is most guileful, 〈◊〉 Valentine under the show of dolour shadowed his heart full of contented thoughts: The Tiger though he hide his claws, will at last discover his rapine: The Lions look are not the maps of his meaning, nor a man's phisnomy the display of his secrets. Fire cannot be hid in straw, nor the nature of a man so concealed, but at last it will have his course: nature and art may do much, but that Natura naturans which by purgation is engrafted in the heart, will be at last perforce predominant. Even thus and no otherwise fared it with Valentine, for after a quarter of a years lamentation was ended, he entered into consideration how he might extort from his younger brother the substance bequeathed him by his father, if not defraud him utterly of his due, yet make such havoc of his legacy, as it should be a great deal the lighter, whereupon he began thus to meditate with himself. Valentine's meditation with himself. NOw Valentine, love and fortune have brought thee into a Labyrinth, thy thoughts are like janus pictures, that present both peace and war, and thy mind like Venus' anvil, where is hammered both fear and hope. Sith then the chance lieth in thy own choice, do not with Medea see and allow of the best, and then follow the worst; but of two extremes, if they be Immediata, choose that which may have least prejudice & most profit: entreat thy brother in favours, and entertain him with love, so shalt thou have thy conscience clear, and thy renown excellent. Tush, what words are these, far unfit (if thou be wise) for thy honour. What though thy father at his death talked many frivolus matters, as one that doted for age, and raved in his sickness, shall his words be so authentical, as thou wil● in observing them prejudice thyself? No, no, sick men's wil● that are parol, having no hand or seal, are like the laws of a City written in dust, which are broken with the blast of every wind. What man, thy father is dead, and he can neither help thy fortunes, nor measure thy actions, therefore bury his words with his carcase, and be wise for thyself: what, 'tis not so old as true, Non sapit, qui sibi non sapit But unhappy Valentine, whither dost thou rove? Do thy virtues increase like the pace of a Crab, who creepeth backward? Hast thou in the cradle been continent, and wilt thou in the saddle be impudent? Now I see, that albeit virtue hath bridled thy youth with chaste thoughts, yet vanity hath enchanted thy years with fond resolutions, resembling the Nettle, which may be handled in the bud, but stingeth in the flower: Art thou so well skilled already in thy father's precepts, as that thou meanest to buy folly and cheapen repentance? Are not we sons of one father, scions of one tree, birds of one nest? and wilt thou become so unnatural as to rob him, whom especially thou oughtest to relieve? Did not thy father tell thee, that brother's amity is like the drops of Balsamum, that salveth most dangerous sores? Did he exhort unto concord, and wilt thou show thyself careless? Fie upon these frivolous words, which rather than they should in such sort be prejudicial unto my prosperity, as detain me from reigning sole Lord over all my father's possessions, I would not only in forswearing the remembrance of them, violate natural affection, but with mine own hands work my utter confusion: for loath would I be deprived of so triumphant an expectation. In this humour Valentine left his Chamber, vowing the performance of these devilish resolutions. Thus for two or three day's being very pensive, and full of many passions, it chanced that as he walked thus in his muses, fetching the compass of his conceit beyond the Moon, he met with two beggarly fellows, who as their custom was, began their Exordium with I pray good Master, and so forth, hoping to find the Gentleman as liberal, as he was full of gracious favours: neither did they miss of their imagination, for he thought them likely to be drawn on to the execution of his purpose, conceited thus, that gold was as good as glue to knit them to any practice whatsoever, and therefore out with his purse & grea●ed them in the hands with a brace of angels. This unaccustomed reward made them more frank of courtesies, that every rag reached the Gentleman a reverence, with promise o● many prayers for his health. He that harped on another string took the men by the hands, & sitting down upon the green grass, discoursed unto them from point to point the beginning of his sorrows, & how by no means (except by them) he could rest satisfied. The beggars desirous to do the Gentleman any pleasure, said they were ready to take any pains that might redound to his content, whereupon he replied thus. Then my good friends, ye shall run into yonder town (pointing to Idomena) making solemn exclamations that if present remedy be not adhibited, there will be no question but that the destruction of a certain person in this wood will be unfallible, being sorely oppressed by a desperate russian: if ye can cunningly & closely thus convey unto the officers the tenor of your minds, I will ●o highly gratify you, as never afterwards ye shallbe found to exercise your old occupation. These hell hounds gla● of this large proffer, promised to venture ajoint, but they would further him in his enterprise: whereupon he dispatched them away, whose minds were so fixed on this liberal condition, that they be stirred their stumps till they came unto the town: where notice of their advertisement being taken, assisted by the Magistrate they made to the wood: who no sooner were come within the reach of Valentine's eye, but puffing & blowing, as though all would have split again, he posted unto them, charging them upon their allegiance they bore to their sovereign Lord their King, that they should not spare to execute the rigour of the law upon his brother, who esteeming gold sufficient honour, became so deaf against my father's philosophical harmony, and made more value of profit then of virtue, as to the end that he might strip me out of my possessions, came rushing in, and laid such violent hands upon me, as had not the sight of your approaching hither terrified his unnatural stratagem, he had ere this bereaved me of life. Whereupon seeing his notorious villainy which so long lay hid in the ashes of pretended simplicity, thus discovered, and after this sort detected, for his better security betook himself to his heels, whom if you follow down along this vale towards my house, he cannot possibly escape your hands. Fortune that saw how Lysimachus valued not her deity, but held her power in scorn, thought to have about with him, and brought the matter to pass thus. Lysimachus as his usual manner was, walked before his brother's house in a valley between two high mountains (topped with trees of marvelous verdure, whereby ran a fountain pleasant, as well for the murmur of the streams, as for the sweetness of waters) with his Boar-spear upon his neck, where having strooken a Dear, and but lightly hurt, he packed down by the grove in great hazel expecting his fall: from whence he might espy his brother accompanied with a crew of armed men following him: amazed at this sight, as he stood gazing, his nose on a sudden bled, which made him conjecture (as it was indeed) that there was some dangerous event pretended. As soon as they were come within his reach, Valentine commanded the officers without further examination, to carry him to prison. Lysimachus smiling both at the envious treachery, and cowardice of his brother, brooked all the injuries of fortune with patience. Lying in prison all night, the next morning as soon as the day broke, taking a Cithern in his hand, he warbled out this mournful Sonnet. Lysimachus Sonnet that he made in prison. YOu restless cares companions of the night, That wrap my joys in folds of endless woes, Tyre on my heart, and wound it with your spite. Since Time and Fortune proves my utter foes. Farewell my hopes, farewell my happy days, Welcome sweet grief, the subject of my lays. Mourn heavens, mourn earth, your servant is forlorn, Mourn times, and hours, since bale invades by bower, Curse every tongue, the place where I was borne, Curse every thought, the life which makes me lower. Farewell my hopes, farewell my happy days, Welcome sweet grief the subject of my lays. Yet drooping, and yet living to this death, I sigh, I sue for pity at his * at the Lord of hosts, shrine, Whose mighty power can quickly comfort breath, And make myself thus not in woes to pine. Farewell my hopes, farewell my happy days, Welcome sweet grief the subject of my lays. Mean while my sighs yield truce unto my tears, By them the winds increase and fiercely blow: Yet when I sigh the grief more plain appears, And by their force with greater power doth glow. Farewell my hopes, farewell my happy days, Welcome sweet grief the subject of my lays. Fortitèr ille facit qui miser esse potest. Having thus chanted over his Sonnet, he heard the prison door open, whereupon he grew passing melancholy, and not without cause, for the jailer certified him that the Burgomasters of the town were assembled in the common hall, to hear how he could clear himself of the accusations which were laid to his charge. At this Lysimachus taking heart of grace, being emboldened with his innocency, he boldly went with the officers unto the hall, with whom (as the nature of man is desirous of novelties) came a great press of people to hear the matter throughlie canvased. When Lysimachus was thus brought before the bar, Valentine his brother who had suborned these reckless rogues solemnly to depose that they saw him prejudicially bend, began his invective thus. I am sorry grave citizens and inhabitants of Idoniana, that this day I am come to accuse my brother Lysimachus, whose virtues hitherto have won him many favours and the outward show of his good qualities hath been highly applauded of all men: but my conscience constraineth me, not to conceal such heinous sin, and the rigour of the law chargeth me not to smother up so great an offence without rebuke. This considered, I am forced to discover a wicked deed that this Lysimachus hath committed, and that is this. It chanced (as I walked solitary down my woods to see if any of my Ewes and Lambs (as it is my ordinary custom) were straggled down to the strand to browse on sea ivy, whereof they take especial delight to feed that my brother having concealed a secret resolution of some desperate plot, and could no longer hide fire in the flax, nor oil in the flame (for envy is like lightning that will appear in the darkest fog) and seeing now opportunity answerable to the performance of a mischief, thought best not to let it slip, but assaulted me with such violence, redoubling his strokes with such courage, that had not the arrival of the officers been speedy, my death had been sudden. For proof hereof, these men pointing to the beggar's) shall here before you all make present deposition, and with that he reached them a Bible, whereon being sold unto sin, and sworn to wickedness, they swore that Lysimachus was most prejudicially bend. At which oath the people that were jurors in the cause, believing the protestations of Valentine, and the depositions of the rogues, presently found him guilty, and Valentine and the rest of the Burgomasters gave wagement, that he should the next day at the Market place lose his head. As soon as Lysimachus heard the censure, he appealed for no mercy, nor abashed any whit, as one desirous of favour, but li●ting up his eyes to heaven, only said thus. O God, which seest the secrets of all hearts, & knowest all things before they come to pass, which discernest the very inward thoughts▪ and trie●t the hearts & 〈◊〉: Thou knowest that my brother hath slandered me with 〈◊〉 me, whereof I was never guilty, that he hath produced these 〈◊〉 men by a sinister subordination to perjure themselves in a fault▪ when●● not so much as in thought, I committed such a fact▪ he hath to satisfy his malicious mind without cause devised this false crime. I confess O Lord myself to be a most grievous offender, and to deserve far greater punishment▪ but not for this dee●●. Hea● then my prayer, and let the innocency of my case plead before thy divine majesty: if it be thy will prevent his practices, confound his counsels, and let him which hath digged the pit for others, fall into the 〈◊〉 himself. Thou hast never as 〈◊〉 o Lord 〈◊〉 the succourless without help, but hast delivered them which fear the●, from all adversity. No● who hath trusted in thy mercy, which hath come to mishaps or who hath 〈◊〉 his hope in thee, and hath suffered harm? So o Lord if it be thy will, thou canst disclose the devise of this my brother Valentine, and unfold the follies of these false witnesses, help thou o Lord, for in thee is my trust. The people bearing, the salcu●●, 〈◊〉 nation's of 〈◊〉 Lysimachus, thought he had spoken these words to excuse his fault, but not that he was guiltless of the fact▪ giving more credit to the speeches of Valentine, and is the oaths of the man countenanced out by the Bourgomasters, then to the 〈◊〉 of a young man, supposing his speeches were more of custom to choke his follies, then of conscience to clear himself of that crime, returned him back again to prison, till the day assigned for his punishment. Where being deeply grieved, and yet smothering his sorrows with patience, he lay the rest of the day. When night was come, Fortune that was careful other champion began to smile, and brought it so to pass, that as Lysimachus was walking up the battlements of the Castle wherein he was prisoner, he espied from whence he might leap down withouthurt, and so escape away with security. Glad of this as a man most valiant, and trusting to his fortunes, courageously skipped down with little prejudice, which being performed, he trudged amain to the sea shore, where boarding a Foist which by chance there lay at Ancour, he boised up Sail, as having the winds somewhat benign, purposing thither to direct his course, whither Fortune and Aeolus would conduct him, whom for a while we will leave, and return again to Valentine. The morrow was the day of punishment, and Valentine was so desirous to see the execution performed, that he passed the night with little sleep: but as soon as Phoebus had veiled the curtain of the night, and made Aurora blush with giving her the Bezolas labras in her silver couch, he got him up, and dispatched an officer to the jailor to produce his prisoner to execution, who returned him this answer, Non est inventus. This news drove Valentine into a great melancholy, that presently he went to the Sheriffs, giving them to understand of this information, whose hearts were so set on fire, that they strait raised all the country, and made hue and cry after him. But Lysimachus knowing full well the secret ways that led unto the sea coast, stole away privily through a part of the Province of Mygdonia, and escaped safe to the sea. Valentine seeing himself thus brought into a fools paradise, despairing of his brother's recovery, as a man careless what should become of him, took horse and road home, where he trusted (seeing the stop was removed which galled him to the quick) to end the currant of his years in all contented quietness: having heaved up to promotion those two vassals of sin, whose lamentable fortunes, together with the principal member, shall at large hereafter be declared. These unexpected accidents compelled Lysimachus to leave his native country Macedonia, and in forrei●● places to purchase more favourable fortunes, with whom, we will now begin. Lysimachus having for the space of three or four days sailed without descrying land, sole Lord over the vessel, as having none to comfort him, at last he might discover the coast of Thessalia whereon (as a man joyful of land) he was cast: upon which ●●stening the Prince, he chanced on 〈◊〉 that led into the chick of a Forest, where wandering without meat, he was almost famished, at last hunger growing on so extreme, like a mad man he ranged up and down the woods, seeking to encounter some wild beast with a javelin which he made at his entrance into the chick●●. He had not gone far, but he espied a Shepherd, desirous therefore to be relieved by his favours, he saluted him thus. Shepherd, for so far thy attire warrants me: courteous, for so much thy countenance imports: if a distressed person whom fortune hath wronged, and the seas have favoured (if I may count it favour to live and want) may without offence crave so far aid, as to know some place where to rest my weary and weatherbeaten bones, thanks thou shalt have as thy due, and more thou canst not have, for my abilities deny me to perform a deeper debt. But if any ways it please thee to command me, use me as far as the power of a poor Gentleman will stretch. The Shepherd hearing him speak so gravely, made him this answer. Stranger, your degree I know not, therefore pardon if I give less title than your estate meriteth: Fortunes frowns are Princes fortunes, and Kings are subject to chance and destiny. Mishap is to be salved with pity, not with scorn, and we that are fortunes darlings are bound to relieve them that are in distress: therefore follow me, and you shall have such succour as a Shepherd may afford. Lysimachus was passing glad and protion (for so was the shepherds name) led the way, who being desirous to infer some occasion of parley, began his prattle thus. If thou be a man of such worth as I value thee by thy exterior lineaments, make discourse unto me what is the cause of thy pre●●nt misfortunes, for by the furrows in thy face thou seemest to be crossed with mishaps: but whatsoever or whosoever, let me crave that favour to hear the tragic cause of thy estate. Lysimachus seeing by the shepherds looks that he was desirous to hear the discourse of his fortunes, briefly shaped him this reply. In that your looks sees my grief, and your thoughts pity my woes, my tongue shall give you thanks (the bounty of sorrows tenant) and my heart pray that the gods may be as friendly to your flocks, as you are favourable unto me. How I arrived here gentle Shepherd inquire not, lest it be tedious for thee to hear it, and a double grief for me to rehearse it. protion not willing to occasionate offence, as having affection portrayed in his visage, he conveyed him home to his house, as soon as he was arrived there, he began at the door to entertain him thus. Sir, this is my cottage wherein I live content, and your lodging, where (please it you) you may rest quiet. I have no rich clothes of Egypt to cover the walls, nor store of plate to discover any wealth, for Shepherds use neither to be proud nor covetous. You shall find here cheese and milk for dainties, and wool for clothing, in every corner of the house Content sitting smiling, and tempering every homely thing with a welcome: this if you can brook and accept of ●as allow the meanest hospitality) you shall have such fare as Philemon & Baucis gave to jupiter. Lysimachus thanked him heartily, and going into his house found what he promised. After that he had sat a little by the fire & w●ll warmed him, he went to supper, where Lysimachus fed well, as one whom the sea had made hungry, and so plied his teeth that all supper he spoke not one word. After he had taken his repast, protion seeing him weary, and that sleep chimed on to rest, let him see his lodging, and so gave him the good night. The Sun was no sooner the next morning stepped from the bed of Aurora but the Shepherd got him up and went to his ●olds, where letting forth his sheep, after he had espied where they should graze, he returned home, and looking when his guest should rise, having slept in the last night, went roundly to his breakfast: by that time he had ended his the suine, Lysimachus was gotten up, against whose rising Od●●sa Procyon's wife had shown her cookery, and the Shepherd tired in his russet jacket, no sooner had espied his guest coming out of his Chamber but bade him good morrow, with a look not so much unfeigned as affectionate: whom after breakfast was ended, protion led forth to see his folds, plodding thus over the green fields, at last they came to the mountains where his flocks grazed, and there he discoursed unto him the pleasures of a country life, thus Did you but (Sir) live a while in this condition, you would say the Court were rather a place of sorrow then of solace. Here shall not fortune thwart you, but in mean misfortunes, as the loss of a few Sheep, which as it breeds beggary, so it can be no extreme prejudice, the next year may mend all with a fresh increase. We drink without suspicion, and sleep without care, envy stirs not us, we covet not to climb, our desires mount not above our degrees, nor our thoughts above our fortunes. Care (as I 〈◊〉) cannot harbour in our co●●ages, nor do our homely couches know broken slumbers: as we ●xcéede not ●ll diet, so we have enough to satisfy. The Shepherd made Lysimachus so much in love with the country life, that every day he led forth his flocks with such delight, that he held his exile happy, and thought no content to the bliss of a country cottage. Lysimachus using thus daily with bag and bottle to go a field in more pleasant content of mind then ever he was in his own country with Valentine his brother, it chanced on a day being enforced by the heat of the Sun to seek for shelter, as he sat under the shadow of Limon trees, fortune (who is like she Chameleon) variable with every object, and constant in nothing but in inconstancy, thought to make him a mirror of mutability, and therefore still crossed him contrarily. Thinking to recover his cottage, it fell out that certain rascals (who after they had foraged in the Thessalian confines) espying Lysimachus, and taking a general survey of his extraordinary lineaments, thought that he was very like for the performance of some bold attempt, and in time of necessity no small assistance unto their enterprises: whereupon thus resolved, they came rushing in, and laid violent hands upon him, who seeing that all hope of liberty should be taken away if he yielded, thought rather to die in his own defence, than any way be deprived of such an especial privilege, and therefore dealt such blows amongst them with his weapon, as he did witness well upon their carcases that he was no coward. But as ne Hercules quidem contra duos, so Lysimachus could not resist a multitude, having none to second him: so that he was not only bat●ed, but sore wounded, and to be brief perforce hoist a Shipboard, where for the space of a day or two being with the Pirates carried into the huge Ocean, at length the Fates sitting down in their Synod to make Lysimachus happy, ordered so the matter, that inaugre their beards (by a tempest which suddenly arose) they were cast again upon the borders of Thessalia. This adverse wind fatally sent for the purchasing of Lysimachus enfranchisement continued thus contrary three months, the violence whereof, with the strange accidents that during the continuance thereof befell, I refer to the Annals of the Thessalians, which dilate not a little of it. These Pirates thus by a stormy constraint being sore against their wills compelled to lie quiet at road, at length through long continuance necessity began to have eminency, swaying all things with a cheek, and constraining them as tributory to yield the sovereignty unto her supremacy. Whilst thus they were taxed with want, they bethought themselves how that the present season exacted a warm coat, and a hot chimney▪ and therefore deemed it not unbehoucable, if by the diligence of two or three, that want might be supplied. Which being concluded, our weather beaten soldier Lysimachus was enjoined (seeming that way desirous) to add in that exploit his indulgence: who putting up all abuses with patience by the outward appearance, seemed so content with that present condition, as that little mistrust of revenge in him was perceived. Well, being come into the wood, Lysimachus thinking it high time to put in: trial the assay of his redemption, heaved up a forest bill which he had on his neck, and the first he struck, had never after more need of the Physician, charging his blows with such magnanimity, that the slaves were amazed at his valour, so that in short time he had slain two, & left the third in such sor● sore wounded, as that there was none or very little hope of his recovery. Having rid his hands of these his well-willers, he had not so much care of executing his injunction, as he had of escaping away with safety, which as he performed with great diligence, so it wrought his future contented happiness. The Pirates after long expectation waited (but all in vain) for the return of their adherents, whom when they perceived that every hour they were more slack in hastening homewards, misdoubted (and not amiss) lest some unexpected casualty might befall them, which when by their arrival in that place they found true, seeing Lysimachus was absent, imagined that through his means these horrible deeds were brought to pass, but not daring to make pursuit after him, for fear of leaping over the shoes in transgressions, they rested patient, bearing unto their galley three dead carcases (for by this time the survivor had yielded nature her due) to solemnize their funerals with a watery burial: what afterward betead of them I cease to relate, in that I neither esteem the persons, nor value their actions. By this time Lysimachus was come within the view of his host Procyon's cottage, unto which he made with such celerity, as the recovery thereof was speedy: being entered, he found the Shepherd and his wife at dinner, whom after this manner he saluted. Gentle Shepherd, and courteous, tempered with the beauty of affability, and the lineaments of thy face graced with the favours of clemency, as many good fortunes to you and your wife, as yourselves can desire or imagine. protion hearing one so superfine, looking backward perceived that it was his guest Lysimachus, whom (suddenly rising from the table) he entertained with as many favours, as he tolerated his absence with dolours, whereupon he took him by the hand, and bade him welcome, willing him to sit down in his place, and in his room not only to eat his fill, but as Lord of the house to think himself welcome: well, ●o be short, he fell eagerly to his victuals, and feasted himself with such cates as they had. As soon as he had victualled the camp, the Shepherd and his wife were desirous to hear what hard fortune compelled him to be so long absent, requested Lysimachus to discourse (if it were not any ways prejudicial unto him) the cause of his so long discontinuance. Lysimachus (desirous to satisfy the courtesy of his favourable host, first beginning his Exordium with a volée of fighes, and a few lukewarm tears) prosecuted his discourse, and throughlie informed them of his misfortunes, how as he was sitting under a covert most pleasantly situated, which with the thickness of the boughs so shadowed the ●lace, that Phoebus could not pry into that arbour, so vnite● were the tops of so thick a closure, that Venus there in her jollity might have ●allied unseen with her dearest paramour. Fast by to make she place more gorgeous, was there a Font, so Crystalline and clear, that it seemed Diana with her Dryads and Hemadriades had that spring as the secret of their bathe. In this glorious arbour (I say) as I sat, it chanced that certain rascals coming a bootehailing into those parts discovered me, being discovered, haled me on shipboard, whither being haled, I had journeyed with them had not the winds in being more favourable forbade our course with their prosperous opposition. Lying thus still (quoth he) two months, at length necessity grew powerful amongst us, which willed us with labour to supply those things that else by propagation would be perilous, whereupon myself with three more being charged to undergo this enterprise, I supposed it not amiss being in a desert place, if I made hay while the Sun shined, and took opportunity by the forelocks, and thereupon betook myself to my weapon, minding in this resolution either to escape away with safety, or valiantly to die immediately, rather than I would be returned back and kept in such servile subjection, as though I were the son of some country vassal, from whom as you see I am delivered, and that with little prejudice. When protion heard this he fell on the neck of Lysimachus, being exceeding joyful for his safe arrival, being thereto moved by reason that (for sundry virtues which he 〈◊〉 shine in his honest simplicity) he loved him exceedingly, and took an intimate delight in his company: wherefore with these words of true friendship he did embrace him. Lysimachus, let not thy brother's unkindness which thou hast felt, the inclemency of thy kin that I doubt hereafter ●hou shalt find, nor the miseries whatsoever thou hast either passed, or dost endure, further appall thy spirit, then may be recovered by thy friend's comfort. Thou knowest how dearly I have held thee, and what care ever since thy first sight I received of thy well doing, I had rather in action make known my love, then in words but weary thy hearing: and albeit my ability cannot countervail my desire, yet in affection I will not be wanting any ways unto you. Lysimachus in a sudden passion surprised with this rare piece of friendship, after the recovery of a little trance, yielded him most humble thanks: adding moreover, that if ever fortune tied her favours in the top of his crest, he would not wound the remembrance of these his extraordinary courtesies with oblivion. Resting thus in the house with the shepherd, to avoid tedious conceits, he framed himself so to country labours, that he oft times would lead the flocks to the field himself, and being dressed in homely attire, seemed like amorous Paris courting Oenone. Near to this place dwelled the abovenamed Gentleman Syllanus, of great worship, greater possessions, but of greatest perfections, so that it was doubted, whether he was more indebted to his parents for pedigree, to nurture for piety, or to fortune for prosperity, yet most chiefly he thought himself beholden to Nature, that had in his decaying years, and decrepit old age, bestowed on him so precious a pearl and dear jewel as his young daughter Varrona, admired at that time as the only Paragon and Phoenix of Thessalia: which thing this good old sire perceiving, made him as careful to breed her, as joyful that she was borne, thinking within himself that as she was notable for her beauty, so should she be noted for her honesty: and seeing Nature had invested her with so pleasing a parsonage, Nurture should not deny her as plausible behaviour, and that she should be as sweet in manners, as seemly in making, which through his diligent performance afterwards came to pass. This Varrona was the very picture and pattern of incomparable comeliness, the perfect piece in whom nature played her prize against art, and in whom her silent oratory pleaded both for prick and price. This Paragon seemed to surpass the perfection of the rest amongst whom she was sorted, and amongst whom she shined as an orient pearl opposite to pebbles, or Cynthia's golden beams obscuring the twinkling stars: None erst looked on her, but loved her. Her stature was tall, and her golden wiered tresses wherewith her comely head abounded, were enfolded with Unions and Ouches, with Diamonds and Chrysolites, saving some lawless locks amongst the rest hung loosely adoring her temples, being all prettily frizzled, crisped, and tusked. In her high forehead wherein no wrinkle appeared▪ Cupid had placed his ivory Bow, on which her i●tlie eys-browes resembled Venus. beautified by the near opposition of her black bearded Vulcan. What shall I stand in describing her eyes, those celestial lamps, or her cheeks like damask roses sprinkled with morning dew? in whose dimples were the Grace's dwellings? What shall I recount her coral, dainty chin, and alabaster neck? each part deserved praise, each member admiration. In sweet eloquence she resembled Cornelia: her looks were cheerful, yet chaste: merry, yet modest: courteous, not contemptuous. Hercules Gallus had all men's ears linked in the chain which he held in his hand, but Varrona held both their ears, tongues, and hearts, all men prattled of her, all praised her. First, gazed they at the heavenly hew of her beauty, then at the excellency of her bravery, than wondered they at the rareness of her courtesy, than they admired her passing good graces, than were they amazed at the speciality of her fine behaviour, them the twinkling of her eyes did so dim their lesser lights, that they could neither sustain to behold her, or abstain from beholding her. This Virgin, or rather Goddess, every day used to view the plains wherein her father's sheep were kept (as it hath been already mentioned) in a scarlet petticoat, defending her face from the heat of the Sun, with no other vail, but with a garland made of boughs and flowers: which attire became her so gallantly, as that she seemed to be the Goddess Flora herself for beauty. On a day as Lysimachus sat amongst the shrubs, by chance fixing his eyes on the glorious object of her face, he noted her tre●ies in such sort, that whereas heretofore he was a contemner of Venus, was now by the wily shaft of Cupid so entangled in the perfection & beauteous excellency of Varrona, as now he swore no benign Planet but Venus, no God but Cupid, no exquisite Deity but love. Being thus fettered with the pliant persuasions of fancy, impatient in his new affections, as the horse that never before felt the spur, he could not bridle his new conceived amours, but before he came to Procyon's house where daily he did continue, he endured such a Metamorphosis in his mind, that he was constrained to cross himself with these or the like contrarieties. But stay: what new motions are these Lysimachus? what heavy conceits, what dampish thoughts possess thee? what strange and unacquainted fits disquiet thee? what fury, what fiend torments thee? by whom, where, when did it come Lysimachus? Ah Varrona, Varrona, heavenly Varrona, and nothing but Varrona! why how now? hast thou so long escaped the snares of beauty, and must thou now taste of the bait? hast thou gazed on so many faces, & none but this could fit thy fancy? accompanied heretofore so many gallants, yet none could please thee? descried so many behaviours, viewed so many virtues, and none could delight thee, none could entice thee? yea but stay Lysimachus, run not too fast, lest thou lose thy breath: wade not too far sith thou art sure to sink: yield not to love, as thou lovest thy life: kill it in the root, or break it in the bud, beware of the blossom, as thou tenderest thy safety. Thou hast been always accounted the despiser of fancy, and wilt thou now be noted the desirer of beauty? thou which hast trod Venus under thy feet, wilt thou wrap therein thy heart? erst rejecting them as sluttish rags, and now regarding them as the garments of a Goddess? But Varrona, Oh sweet Varrona, the very pattern of Virtue, beauties lively grace, the only Idea of jupiters' dream, and paragon of nature's perfection. By this time he was come home, and casting himself immediately on his bed, on a sudden started as one in an ecstasy, surprised with the notable view of some rare singularity, or drowned as it were in a deep sea of surpassing delight, and wholly contemplating the substance of Varrona, which he already most curiously had shadowed in his heart, he began to fall into a slumber, but love impatient of delays and controlment, bestowed a sharp arrow upon him to aggravate his sore that already was uncurable, which made him with a new supply redouble his griefs, with this passionate part. I see there is no stopping of the stream, but to force the greater flowing: no killing the vine by cutting it: the repressing of Cupid's rage, is the more to kindle affection. Ah cursed Cupid, ah unjust dieitie, the restrainer of liberty, the master of folly, the overthrow of honesty, a ruin of youth, an arch nemie to the whole world: hast thou none to prick, none to poison, but poor Lysimachus? then would I he were not Lysimachus, or else as he hath been Lysimachus. But alas must I needs shake hands with liberty, and bid freedom farewell, must my quiet weal become a malcontented war? must my pleasures be passions, my songs sighs and sobs, my mirth melancholy, my moderate thoughts amorous conceits? Then farewell discretion where desire divelleth: farewell wit, if will bear sway: and farewell counsel, if love be the Lawyer. But why dost thou argue with love; seeing thou hast not thy love? assay rather to enjoy thy love, so that any t●ay thou 〈◊〉 ease thy love. Ah but whom do I love? Varrona, easy to be won if she were not Varrona. But infortunate Lysimachus, if he win not Varrona: yea but what hope canst thou have of her amity, with whom as yet thou hast no acquaintance? Cease therefore to furmise that which surpasseth thy sense, die rather with desire then live for disgrace, for well mayst thou love Varrona, but never be liked of Varrona. Lysimachus having thus tented his wound, and finding the hurt so desperate, yielded his maimed mind as a patient to be cured by Varronas only mercy: persuading himself that there was none so dainty, none so lofty, and none so cruel, but loyalty with constancy might make them courteous. hovering in this hope he began to take heart a grace, assuring himself almost of that gain that was not so lightly gained, but when he mustered in his conceits how Varrona was descended, how women's ears are not their tuchstones, but their eyes, and how a dr●m of honour weighs down a pound of wit, how their hearts reacheth to the pulses of their hands, and let a man rub that with gold, and 'tis hard but they will prove his heart's gold, he was presently driven into such damps, and being as it were in a labyrinth of thoughts, was fain to cease thinking. At the last coming to himself, he took it not amiss, if the next day he walked abroad to see if the fields would further his desires, or minister some matter to mitigate his malady: but coming into the air, the ag●e of loves disease began to sha●e him afresh, and made him sometimes hot, sometimes cold, sometimes in hope, and sometimes in fear; and thus at every step in a contrary thought, he heard the Nightingale record in her song as he surmised his passionate sorrows, and applying his tune to her note, he began to bear his part. Should I accuse mine eyes that boldly gazed On that fair object not to be obtained? Or, blame the worth in Europe wonder blazed, That them to look, and me to love constrained? Eyes for excuse allege prevailing reason, Heart in extremes on fancies wrong exclaimed: Hopes Sun shine clouded like obscurest season, Yields to despair, at my misfortunes aimed. Nature too lavish, outward graces planted, Virtue too friendly, inward bounties sowed, Yet those fair eyes of courteous looks are scanted, And Angels hue on tigers thoughts bestowed. Tush, love with griefs which did oppress me fore Is cause, that I my death like life deplore. When Lysimachus had warbled out those words, and wrested the consideration of Varronas disposition Venus willing to bestow upon him the benefit of that friendly aspect, which he most desired, ordered so the matter that Varrona according to her usual manner did frequent the leas wherein her father's sheep grazed, who with two other damosels sat under the side of an hill, making a garland of such homely flowers as the fields did afford. This sight so revived his spirits that he drew nigh, with more judgement to take a view of her singular perfection, which he found to be such, as in that country attire she stained all the country dames of Thessalia: while thus he stood gazing with piercing looks on her surpassing beauty, Varrona cast her eye aside, and espied Lysimachus, as yet altogether unknown unto her, which sudden sight made her to blush, and to die her crystal cheeks with a vermilion red, which gave her such a grace as that she seemed far more beautiful. And with that rising up, Lysimachus, (that could well skill to court all kind of degrees, lest he might then be thought to have little manners) encountered them thus. ladies believe me, love is of more force than wars, and the looks of women pierce deeper than the stroke of the lance, there is no Curtle-axe so keen, but armour of high proof can withstand: but beauty's arrows are so sharp, and the darts that fly from women's eyes are so piercing, as the corselet tempered by Vulcan for Dido's paramour, hold● not out the violence of their strokes. The gods tremble when Mars shaketh his lance, but he feareth when Venus casteth a frown. Alexander never took notice of the legions of his enemies, but he stood frighted at the beauty of the Amazon. Then sweet saints of Thessalia, marvel not if I were driven into a maze at the sight of such beauteous creatures, whose faces are Venus' weapons wherewith she checketh the pride of overdaring warriors. I cannot (Ladies) court it as your gallant youngsters, that tie their wits-to their fancies, nor fill your ears with amorous discourses, as Cupid's apprentices, that spend their time in such loving philosophy. Nor can I feign conceited supposes of affection, to prove myself lovesick by poetry, but as a blunt shepherd new come from the folds, I offer myself a devout servant to your beauties, swearing to defend your honours against all men with the hazard of my blood, and in pawn thereof, generally to you all, but specially to one (as love hath his unity) I desire to be entertained as a dutiful servant to the Lady Varrona. Lysimachus having thus boldly boarded these lovely virgin, the Ladies seeing with what affection he offered his service to Varrona, began to bite the lip, and she to blush, who seeing herself touched to the quick, made this answer. I know not (shepherd) how to answer of love, because as yet I never knew love: ignorant of his forces, because never acquainted with his fortunes. Vesta forbids us virgins to name Venus▪ as they of Ephesus hateful Erostratus. Diana déeles not in Paphos, nor suffers she any of her maidens to hunt in Erecynus, lest meeting with Venus' meacocks, they skip with Calisto, and so seek after loss. The less you are private the loves passions, the more welcome to our presence: for rather had we fill our ears with shepherds sonnets, then with 〈…〉, and sweeter are the tears that grow from the loss of a few sheep, than a smile from a comic tale of fancy, For your service (gentle swain) finding myself unworthy, I crave pardon, but if it please you to be accepted as a worthy Shepherd, and my father's friend, look for such favour as my honour and virginity can afford. Lysimachus hearing the plausible answer of Varrona, although her first infirmation seemed to answer for his purpose, as preferring the lawns of Diana, and fires of Vesta, before loves holy temples, yet she concluded so sweetly as might stand with the modesty of her honour, he therefore made thus his reply. In that Madam we are but novices in love, the simpler are our thoughts, and the nearer should be the sympathy of our affections. doves match when they are young, ●ens are graffed when they are sprigs, the one part not but by death, nor are the other severed but they perish. shepherds are like Virgins, the one striving to live virtuous, the other to die patiently, both enemies to love, while they wait on those which brook not love, I mean labour, and Vesta. But both must love, as having hearts, and thoughts, eyes to see beauty, and ears to judge of virtue: I Madam, while I thought none greater than Pan, was vowed to Pan, but seeing women's wits are more powerful than he, I have resigned over my fortunes at his shrine, and mean to make proof of the sweetness of love: glad that in my first entrance I have the patronage of your gracious favour, armed with the which, Mars well may frown, but not conquer. But sir, (quoth Varrona) I granted any favour to Lysimachus the Shepherd, not to Lysimachus the lover. And so (Madam quoth he) I accept of it, for I am a Shepherd to do you service, and a lover despite of myself. Varrona being a Lady of passing merry disposition, hearing him thus to reason prettily, thought to sift him in this manner. I see well (Shepherd) that as women have their favours, so men have their sayings, the one prodigal in gruess, the other politic in deceits, being as cunning to dissemble love, as we chary to discharge love. We thought to have found you a flat Shepherd, as ignorant in loves, as we of fancies, but how closely soever you cover the flame, the fire will be known by the sinoake. For your talk so favours of loves principles, as we judge you are as cunning in feigning a passion, as in folding sheep, and can as soon deceive a woman with a pen, as add a cure to a diseased lamb. This will make us to take you for a day friend, and what we like in you present, to disallow to morrow, swearing if you bring amongst us Venus roses, we will beat you with Vesta's nettles: and therefore if you will be admitted as our Shepherd, we either forbid you to say no more of love, or else you shall be out of our favours. If (Varrona) said he, thou hadst enjoined me as juno did to Hercules most dangerous labours▪ I would have discovered my love by obedience, and my affection by death: with that pulling forth his Pipe, began after some melody to carol this Madrigal. What are my Sheep without their wonted food? What my life except I gain my love? My Sheep consume, and faint for want of blood, My life is lost, unless I grace approve. No flower that sapless thrives. No turtle without fere. The day without the Sun doth lower for woe, Then woe mine eyes unless they beauty see, My Sun Varro●●● eyes, by whom I know Wherein delight consists, where pleasures be. Nought more the heart revives, Then to embrace his dear. The stairs from earthly humours gain their light, Our humours by their light possess their power: Varronas eyes fed by my weeping sight, Infudes my pains or joys, by smile or lower. So wends the source of love, It feeds, it fails, it ends. Kind looks, clear to your joy, behold her eyes, Admire her heart, desire to taste her kisses: In them the heaven of joy, and solace lies, Without them every hope his succour misses. Oh how I love to prove, Whereto this solace tends. Scarce had the Shepherd ended this Madrigale, but Varrona began to frown, saying, he had broken promise. Lysimachus alleged if he uttered any passion, 'twas sung, not said. Thus these two in an humorous descant of their pra●tie, espied a far off other Shepherds coming towards them, so that he leaving the Gentlewomen, taking his leave friendly of them all, but specially with a pitiful glancing look towards Varrona, as craving some favour for his farewell, he stole to his Sheep, & the damosels incontinently went home, who by the way recalled to mind the proportion of Lysimachus, his not vulgar behaviour, adding besides that his gate was more stately than ordinary Shepherds: moreover, a kind of majesty that remained in his looks, the séemelines of which did so shine far above the rest, that all Thessalia supposed that he was Coridon, or one more fine than Coridon, sweet Phyllis her good man. When Varrona was come home, she took leave for a while of her two friends, and stealing into her closet, she began to remember the divine perfection of the Shepherd. Cupid waiting to spy this Vestal at advantage, seeing her half at discovert, unlosed a shaft, headed with desire, & feathered with conceit, which piercing the tender breast of this young maiden, he made her shrink at the blow, and so breath out this complaint. Ay me, now I see, and sorrowing sigh to see, that Diana's laurels, are harbourers of Venus' doves, tha● there trace as well through the lawns, wantoness, as chaste ones, that Calisto be she never so chary will cast an amorous eye at courting love, that Diana herself will change her shape, but she will not honour love in a shadow: maidens rises, be they as hard as diamonds, yet Cupid hath drugs to make them more pliable than ware. See Varrona how fortune and love have interleagued themselves to be thy foes, and to make thee their subject or else their object, have inveigled thy sight, with a most glorious object. Of late thou heldst Venus for a giglot, not a Goddess, now thou shalt be forced to sue suppli●●● to her deity: Cupid was a boy and blind, but alas his eye had aim enough to pierce thee to the heart. I have heard them say, that love looks not at low cottages, that Venus jets in robes, and not in rags, that her son flies so high, as that he scorns to w●ich poverty with his 〈◊〉. Tush Varrona the s●are 〈…〉 tales, and neither 〈…〉 all precepts, no 〈…〉 once 〈◊〉 thee, that peta●●● have their 〈◊〉 as well as Princes: that swains, as they have there labours, so have they their amours, & love lurks assoon about a shaeycoate as a palace. And for those dames that are like Diana, that affect jove in no shape, but in a shower of gold, I wish them 〈◊〉 with much wealth and little wit, that the want of the 〈◊〉 blemish the abundance of the other. It 〈◊〉 stain the 〈◊〉 shepherds life to set the end of passions upon pelf. loves 〈◊〉 look not so low as gold, there are no fees to be paid in Cupid's courts, and in elder times the shepherds love gifts were apples and chestnuts, and their desires were loyal, and their thoughts constant. As she was thus bevating the passions of her mind, one or her acquaintance interrupted her disquiet with his approach from the Duke her father presently to come to him; where for a while I will leave her, and return again to tell you how the matter stood with Lysimachus. Such was the inconstant sorrows that he sustained to think on the wit and beauty of Varrona, as that he began to lose his wont appetite, to look 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 in stead of or mirth, to feed on melancholy: for country merriments; to use cold dumps. In so much that not only protion and his wife Odrisa, but all the whole village began to marvel at his sudden alteration▪ thinking that some lingering sickness had brought him to this state. Wherefore they caused Physicians to come, but Lysimachus hither would let them minister, nor so much as suffer them to see his urine: but remained still so oppressed with passions, as he feared in himself a further inconvenience. His poverty wished him to cease from such follies, but love forced him to follow 〈◊〉, yea and in despite of poverty, 〈…〉 the conque●●● so that her 〈◊〉 desires caused him ●o find new 〈◊〉. For he 〈…〉 his chamber, there he began to put down the passions of his pen to this effect. To the chas●ost Varrona continual health. Madam, whether 〈…〉 our beauty, or the virtue of your behaviour hath a 〈◊〉 my loves affecti●● 〈◊〉, I leave it to your sweetest sense to conjecture. But this I feel (although 〈◊〉 ●ummed in every part) that some strange accident hath taken possession in the chiefest part of my heart, vowing there to 〈…〉 he hath conquered 〈…〉 of mind, and sworn thei● 〈◊〉 do 〈◊〉 to yourself, as their right sovereign, and true mistress. Although I denied him not the allegiance of a most loving and faithful subject, yet such was his rigorous justice 〈◊〉 upon me, that I should not enjoy my 〈…〉, and wounding my thoughts with the piercing 〈◊〉 of your heavenly 〈◊〉, restored my conceited in this gi●es of best liking permitting me to live, only to think on you. The bondage of my slavery did not so greatly dislike me, as the beholding of young beauty did every way delight me: neither the straightness of my fetters did put me to so great pain, as the remembrance of my thought did procure my displeasure. As honour Varrona is it then a prison? nay a paradise: to serve Varrona is it captivity? nay rather a heavenly bravery. Content (quoth I) I like, I love, I honour Varrona. I feed, I hue, I die for Varrona. Your loving captive and true subject, Lysimachus. When Lysimachus had written out his passionate fancies he carried the paper to the messenger, which he for that purpose had prepared, desiring him to use the best regard in delivery of it, wishing him not to present his mistress therewith until he saw her in some pleasant vain, for he was in great fear lest Varrona would rather rend then read it. Toxeus (for so the messenger was called) expecting opportunity, espied a time as he thought most convenient, Varrona and two or three Gentlemen merrily discoursing of amorous philosophy, this messenger almost marveling to see her so pleasant, thought it now the fittest time to make delivery of his message, gave her Lysimachus letter, who perusing it to the first period, perceived the practice of all, and beautifying her face with modest blushing, was half angry with Toxeus that he made himself messenger of so vain a matter, yet considering it came from that worthy shepherd, she vouchsafed it, and wished the messenger in the evening to come for an answer. Varrona immediately upon her man Toxeus departure perused it a thousand times, and a thousand times kissed it, till at last wrapping it in a white silk scarf, she gave it a place amongst her jewels of price: very glad therefore that Lysimachus had given the onset, she determined to counterbuff him in this manner. Varrona to Lysimachus health. WHen I read (kind Lysimachus) thy Letters, and spied thy loves, I blushed at mine own thoughts, and sorrowed at thy fortunes. I search not the cause of thy love, for it sufficeth me thou dost love, if it lay in me, either to grant thy desire, or satisfy thy passions. Thy comeliness (Lysimachus) knocks at the closet of my heart, thy exquisitie feature sue for their masters liberty: thy loyalty enters peel meal with my thoughts, and giveth a sore assault to my settled resolution: all these put in their pleas, do purchase favour for young Lysimachus. But Vesta, hard hearted Vesta, that makes her virgin's pliant to her own properties, commands that I shut mine ears against such alluring Syren● I count myself greatly favoured with the love of so worthy a swain, and over will Varrona covet to prooveds thankful, as he affectionate: only in love pardon me, for that I never mean to fall into that predicament. Wade not therefore where the ford hath no footing, bark not with the wolves of Syria against the Moon, look not to climb to Olympus, way not at impossibilities, but pacific that with patience, which thou canst not obtain being passionate. If thou thinkest these denials be but words of course, and persuadest thyself that women will be first coy, and then courteous, as the marble that drops of rain do pier, thou shalt (sweet heart) deeply deceive thyself, and highly wrong me. In a word, I wish quiet to thy thoughts, and an end to thy loves. Thine ever but in love, Varrona. Varrona having thus ended her letter, she delivered it to Toxeus, who sending him speedily to Lysimachus lodging, 〈◊〉 him very melancholy, and all God w●t was about Varrona. Lysimachus having received the letter, entered into his Chamber, and read the contents. No sooner had he viewed and reviewed over her cruel determination, but in a great ecstasy of mind he cried out (Dulcior est mors quam amor:) and with that slinging out of his Chamber, he fell into bitter, and extreme sorrows. protion grieving at his friends hard fortune, sought with plausible persuasions to appease his furious melancholy, wishing him whatsoever Varrona wrote, still to think her a woman, that would one while thrust out fancy with a finger, and straight entertain love as a friend: that either time, or his constancy would make her stoop to the lure of his desires. Thus sought the Shepherd to wrest him from his passions; but in vain, for her answers confirmed with such perswas●●e determinations so quieted the conceit of his hope, that going melancholy to his bed, love left him to his quiet slumbers which were not long, for as soon as Phoebus' shaking his dewy locks on the mountains, had posted from the watery cabin of Nereus, summoning plough swames to their handy labour, Lysimachus rose, and with protion went into the fields, where unfolding their Sheep, they sat them down vn●e● on Olive tree, both of them diversly affected, Lysimachus joying in the excellency of Varrona, and protion sorrowing for the griefs which Lysimachus sustained, not quiet in thought till he might hear of his health. As thus both of them sat in their 〈◊〉 they might espy where Varrona with her two Gentlewomen tripped amongst the lawns. At this sudden spectacle, as a man metamorphosed, he lightly sprang from the groaned, desiring to salute the sole mistress of his thoughts: wherefore willing the Shepherd to expect his return, he bonded her with this kind of greeting; giving her likewise the Boniorno thus. Gentle Nymph, all hail, and as prosperous be you in your enterprises, as you happy in content. If I be blunt in discovering my affections, and 〈…〉 loquence in ●uelling out my loves, I appeal to the 〈◊〉 of verity which moweth no subtleties, to 〈◊〉 myself therefore 〈◊〉 your 〈…〉, with 〈…〉 and 〈…〉 Varrona, that before I saw you I knew not loves cumber, but held affection as a toy, not as a malady, using fancy as the Hiperborej do their flowers, which they wear in their bosoms all day, and cast them into the fire for fuel at night. I liked all, because I loved none, and who was most fair, on her I fed mine eyes, but as charily as the be, that as soon as she hath sucked honey from the Rose, straight flies to the Marigold. Living thus at my own list, I wondered at such as were in love, and when I read their passions, I took them only for poems that flowed from the quickness of their wit, not the sorrows of the heart. But now fair Nymph love hath taught me such a lesson, that I must confess his deity and dignity, as there is nothing so precious as beauty, so there is nothing more piercing then fancy. For since my eye took a curious survey of your excellence, I have been so fettered with your beauty and virtue, as (sweet Varrona) Lysimachus without further circumstance loves Varrona. I could point out my lovely desires with long ambages, but seeing in many words lies mistrust, and that truth is ever naked, let this suffice for country wooing, Lysimachus loves Varrona, and none but Varrona. Although these words were most heavenly harmony in the ears of the Nymph, yet to seem coy at the first courting, and to disdain love, howsoever she disdained love she made him this reply. Ah Lysimachus, though I seem simple, yet am I more subtle then to swallow the hook, because it hath a painted bait: as men are wise, so women are wary, specially if they have that wit by others harms to beware. Do we not know Lysimachus, that men's tongues are like Mercury's pipe, that can enchant Argus with an hundred eyes? and their words as prejudicial as the charms of Circe's▪ that transformed men into monsters? If such Sirens sing, we poor women had ●●de stop our ears, lest in hearing we prove so foolish hardy, 〈◊〉 to believe them: and so perish in trusting much, and suspecting little. Lysimachus Piscator ictus sapit▪ he that hath been once poisoned, and afterwards fear not to bows of every potion, is worthy to suffer double penance. Give me leave to mistrust, though I do not condemn. Lysimachus is now in love with Varrona, he a Shepherd of mean parents, she a Lady of great parentage: he poor, she honourable. Can love consist of contrarieties? Will she Falcon perch with the ●atresse? the Lion harbour with the Wolf? Will Venus join robes and rags together? or can there be a sympathy between a King and a beggar? Then Lysimachus, how can I believe that love should unite our thoughts, when fortune hath set such difference between our degrees? But thou likest of Varronas beauty. Men in their fancy resemble the Wasp which scorns that flower from which she had fetched her wax: playing like the inhabitants of the Island Tenerifa, who when they have gathered the sweet spices, use the trees for fuel: so men, having glutted themselves with the fair of women's faces, hold them for necessary evils, and wearied with that which they seemed so much to love, cast away fancy, as children do their rattles: and loathing that which so deeply before they liked, especially such as take love in a minute, and have their eyes attractive like jet, apt to entertain any object, are as ready to let it slip again. Lysimachus hearing how Varrona harped still on one string, which was the doubt of men's constancy, he broke off her sharp invective thus. I grant Varrona (quoth he) many men have done amiss, in proving soon ripe, and soon rotten, but particular instances infer no general conclusions: and therefore I hope, what others have faulted in, shall not prejudice my favours. I will not use sophistry to confirm my love, for that is subtility: nor long discourses, lest my words might be thought more than my faith: but if this will suffice, that by the trust of a Shepherd, I love Varrona, and woe Varrona, not to crop the blossoms, & reject the tree, but to consummate my faithful desires in the honourable end of marriage. At this word marriage, Varrona stood in a maze what to answer, fearing if she were too coy, to drive him away with her disdain: if she were too courteous, to discover the heat of her desires; in a dilemma thus what to do, at last this she said. Lysimachus, ever since I saw thee, I favoured thee, I cannot dissemble my desires, because I see thou dost faithfully manifest thy thoughts, & in liking thee, I have thee so far as my honour holds fancy still in suspense, but if I knew thee as virtuous as thy actions do pretend, and as well qualified whereof you make demonstration, the doubt should be quickly decided, but for this time to give thee answer, assure thyself thus, I will either marry with Lysimachus, or still live a virgin, & with this they strained one another's hand. He having his answer, gave a courteous adieu to them 3. but specially to Varrona, & so playing loath to depart, he went to protion, who all this while attended his coming, unto whom Lysimachus made a true relation of all those things which passed between them, advertising him of the lenitive remedies which she applied unto his maladious spirit, whom we will for a time permit to meditate on his singular expectations, and return unto Syllanus, Varronas father. He having intelligence of the secret meetings which these two lovers daily used, being exceeding much displeased, upon a day as he walked into his Garden, by chance he met with Varrona, accompanied with divers Gentlewomen, whom saluting very graciously, he passed by them, and taking his daughter by the hand, walking aside with her into an open green walk, fell into this talk with her. Why housewife (quoth he) are you so idle tasked that you stand upon thorns until you have a husband? are you no sooner hatched with the Lapwing, but you will run away with the shell on your head? soon pricks the tree that will prove a thorn, and a girl that loves too soon will repent too late. What a husband? why the maids of Rome durst not look at Venus' temple till they were 30, nor went they unmasked till they were married, that neither their beauties might allure other, nor they glance their eyes on every wanton. Egypt is plagued with a dearth, I tell thee fond girl when Nilus overfloweth before his time, the trees that blossom in February, are nipped with the frosts in May: untimely fruits had never good fortune, & young Genile-women that are wooed and won ere they be wise, sorrow and repent before they be old. What 〈◊〉 thou in Lysimachus that thine eye m●st choose, and thy heart must fancy? Is he beautiful? why fond girl, what thy eye liketh at morn, it hateth at night: love is like a haven but a blaze: and beauty, how can I better compare it then to the gorgeous Cedar, that is only for show, and nothing for profit? to the apples of Tantalus that are precious in the eye, and dust in the hand? to the star Artophilax that is most bright, but fitteth not for any compass: so young men that stand upon their outward portraiture, I tell thee are previdiciall: Demophoon was fair, but how dealt he with Phillis? Aeneas was a brave man, but a dissembler: all but little worth if they be not wealthy. And I pray thee what substance hath Lysimachus to endue thee with? hast thou not heard that want breaks amity, that love which beginneth not in gold, doth end in beggary: that such as marry but to a fair face, tie themselves oft to a soul bargain? And what wilt thou do with a husband that is not able to maintain thee? buy forsooth a dram of pleasure with a pound of sorrow, and a pint of content with a whole tun of prejudicial displeasures? But why do I cast stones in the air, or breathe my words into the wind, when to persuade a woman from her will is to roll Sisyphus' stone: or to tie a headstrong girl from love, is to tie furies again infetters. Therefore housewife as you tender my affection I command you to surcease those vain and idle matters, which please me as much as the stinging of a wasp: and shall profit you as little, as fire to cool your thirst. And with that in a rage he flung away not admitting her reply. Varrona perceiving her father's good will thus alienated from her, fearing a further inconvenience, did in humility submit herself to his disposing, not using any longer her accustomed walks. Which Lysimachus perceiving, mused greatly what should become of his love; somewhile he thought she ha● taken some word unkindly, and had taken th● pet, than he imagined some new love had withdrawn her fancy, or happily she was sick, or detained by some great bu●●nesse of Syllanus. These 〈◊〉 ●id Lysimachus cast into his head, who having love in his heart, proved restless, and half without patience that Varrona wronged him with so long absence: for love measures every minuit, and thinks hours to be days, and days to be months, till he feeds his eyes with the sight of his desired object. Thus perplexed lived poor Lysimachus, while on a day sitting with protion in a great dump, he was credibly informed by Toxc us of those sorrowful accidents: at which being suddenly surprised with grief, and string his eyes on the starry concave, began thus in their presence to utter passionate complaints, not limiting his lamnents with distinct clauses, for his moan admitted no method. Injurious heavens (quoth he) hath your influence effected this misfortune? injust gods, have you in envying this my prosperity, deprived me of the view of that wherein I imagined my whole felicity should consist? ungentle Cupid hast thou deeming my Varrona fairer than thy Pshyche, thwarted thus my doting humour? I will wander through the earth augmenting the springs with streams of my tears, filling the woods with rebounding Echoes of my woes, tracing the plains with my restless steps. O that I might equal Orpheus in art, as I excel him in anguish! the powerful virtue of his heavenvly tunes amazed furious beasts, stayed fluent streams, raised stones, assembled trees, moving sense in senseless things. Descending to the silent ●aults of A●heron, he caused ghosts to groan, shadows to sigh, effecting relenting thoughts in hell's remorseless judges. But were I his fere in that profession, I would do more, enforcing Syllanus her father not touched with such a sympathy, to leave his suspicion, and grant me my love: whither do I wandere Is this to rest: leave Lysimachus: nay proceed Lysimachus: cease to suppose, begin to sorrow: Ay me, wretched me, hopeless, hopeless, what means can I now conceit, what devise may now be potted▪ Her●a● he s●●pt, and opening the floodgates of his eyes, distilled a shower of tears, supplying his speeches with deep sighs: But resolving to proceed, he was interrupted by the shepherd: who hearing the words of his complaints, lamented at the 〈◊〉 of his sorrows, 〈◊〉 by all means to 〈…〉 of his memory the remembrance of these caushalties, assuring him that time being the wachstone of love, would no doubt sort all things for his content: and so (quoth he) you s●● it is time to ●old our flocks, with that they 〈◊〉 sheep 〈…〉 home: but he poor soul that had love his 〈…〉 thoughts set on fire with the 〈…〉 began to cauponate 〈◊〉 upon the 〈◊〉 which Varrona had received from her father. Remaining in this pitiful plight, feeding on nothing but heavy despair, he became so changed in his body and soul, as though they had been now 〈◊〉. But 〈◊〉 good hap his mourning being overheard by the good shepherd, and finding him so transformed, 〈…〉 ●●formed Varrona thereof. She having taken diligent notice of this his information, admired greatly at the constancy of his affection, and seeing her father upon urgent affairs was rode to the Court, she deemed if not amiss herself to go and visit him. Who calling upon Lysimachus with a ●hrill voice, recovered him better with her words, than withal the potions or hot drinks she could devise to give him. Lysimachus staring her in the face, muttered (as it seemed) to himself, but remained speechless, but she with great care comforted him (as a woman want no good words in such a case) and brought him again to the use 〈◊〉 his tongue, wherewith he soul●red out these words. Ah Varrona! cruel despair hath so mangled my sweet hope, that unless I find some speedy remedy, the wound will grow incurable, and willing to go forward his breath failed him. Lysimachus (quoth she) as I am ignorant of the cause, so I am sorrowful for thy disease: and I would I had as much power to heal thy extremity, as will to perform it, if it shall not prejudice the glory of my credit, or blemish my honour▪ therefore if it be in my hands to better thee▪ assure thyself to 〈◊〉 the benefit, the honour of my name always excepted. Lysimachus 〈…〉 a while thought it best to discover himself, and presently to receive the con●●t to life, or the reply to death (for his life & death did depend in her answer) & praying the rest to depart, with a sighing spirit, and trembling cheer, disclosed himself. A● my sweet Varrona, in whose answer is seated my heaven or hell; to recount to you my sorrows, or repent my love, can neither ease me of the one, or further me in the other, s●eing yourself shall appear a witness in them both. Although that reason did somewhat prefer me, by the benefit of seemly government, keeping in subjection the untamed appetite of furious affections, yet confirming it by my own eyesight, the manifold grace● wherewith ●ame nature hath mightily enriched you, I found my thoughts so fiercely assaulted, that either I must yield to be your captive, or else die in the combat. Yea the glistering bea●●●● of your heavenly perfections so pierced my heart, that I was forced to forsake reason▪ to follow affections and to forego liberty, to live in bondage: if it may be termed bondage, to serve with love such rare excellency. Having tasted so much of fancy's cup, and the drink dispiersing itself into every part, I felt such passions in mine unacquainted conceits, that nothing but the remembrance of your sweetest sake, could procure my ease, fully resolved to serve, love, and honour Varrona, till the destinies of death should deny me. Tumbling in the extremity of these strange passions, and hearing that thy father's suspicion, or rather jealousy of our late united sympathy, doth watch like Argus over Io, unwilling that thou shouldest pass beyond the reach of his eye, unless as the thinks thou shouldest overreach thyself, my contents were turned into delays complaints, and my pleasure wrapped in this labyrinth of grievous lamentations: but now noting the ex●temitie of thy fortunes, I find that Venus hath made this constant to requite my miseries, and that where the greatest onset is given by fortune, there is strongest defence made by affection. Thus I doubt not but thy father in watching thee, overwaketh himself, and (I hope) profiteth as little, as they which gaze on the flames of Aetna, which vanish out of the sight in smoke. Varrona throughlie understanding his rare and ruthful discourse, with weeping eyes, and sorrowful cheer, embracing him in her arms, after a sugared kiss, gave him this sweet comfort. The heavens Lysimachus by their miraculous working have taken truce with our affections, whose divine influence, I think by some secret contemplation do seem to conclude our loves. It may be I have been liked of some, and flattered of many, but never deserved of any, but only of thee Lysimachus, whose life, love, and loyalty, may justly claim an interest in the favourable consent, and constancy of thy Varrona. Lysimachus hearing this heavenly harmony, was so ravished between joy and fear (for he feared lest it had been but a dream) that he was not able to utter one word, but at last sensibly perceiving that it was no vision, but the verity of his desires, staying himself by her hand, concluded thus. Ah sweet Varrona, the only reviuer of my dying spirit, although neither heaven nor earth can afford me thanks sufficient to requite thine honourable favour, yet shall the zealous truth and tried love of Lysimachus affections encounter the glory of Varronas beauty. And I vow by the heavens, that when Lysimachus shall let his eye slip from thy beauty, or his thoughts from thy qualities, or his heart from thy virtues, or his whole life from ever honouring thee, then shall heaven cease to have stars, the earth trees, the world elements, and every thing reversed shall fall to their former Chaos. Having thus plight their troth each to other, seeing they could not have the full fruition of their love in Thessalia, for that Syllanus consent would never be granted to so mean a match. Varrona determined as soon as time and opportunity would give her leave, to provide a great mass of money, and many rich and costly jewels for the easier carriage, and then to transport themselves and their treasure into Thracia, where they would lead a contented life, until such time as either she should be reconciled to her father, or else by succession, (being the sole child her father had) come to the Dukedom. This devise was greatly praised of Lysimachus, for he feared, if the Duke her father should but hear of the contract, that his fury would be such, as no less than death would stand for painment. He therefore told her that delay bred danger, that many mishaps did fall out between the cup and the lip, and that to avoid anger it were best with as much speed as might be to pass out of Thessalia, lest fortune might prevent their pretence with some new despite. Varrona, whom love pricked forward with desire, promised to dispatch her affairs with as great haste as either time or opportunity would give her leave, and so resting upon this point after many embracings and sweet kisses they departed. Varrona having taken her leave of her best beloved Lysimachus, went immediately home, her merry countenance giving no suspicion of mistrust at all. Lysimachus poor soul was no less joyful, that being a Shepherd, fortune had favoured him so, as to reward him with the love of a Lady, hoping in time to be advanced from that condition, to be the husband of a rich Princess. So that he thought every hour a year, till by their departure they might prevent danger, not ceasing still to go every day to his Sheep, not so much for the care of the flock, as for the desire he had so see his love, and sweet heart Varrona, who oftentimes when opportunity would serve privately repaired thither (albeit her father's prohibition to the contrary) to feed her fancy with the sweet content of Lysimachus presence. And albeit she never went to visit him but most secretly, yet her oft repair made her not only suspected, but known to divers of their neighbours, who for the good will they bore to old protion, told him secretly of the matter, wishing him to advertise Lysimachus of it, that he would if it were possible restrain his liberty. In the mean time Varrona was not slack in her affairs, but applied her matters with such diligence, that she provided all things fit for their journey. Treasure and jewels she had gotten great store, thinking there was no better friend than money in a strange country: rich attire she had provided for Lysimachus, and because she could not bring the matter to pass, without the help and advise of some one, she made the old servant of hers called Toxeus, who had served her from his childhood privy to her affairs, who seeing no persuasions could prevail to divert her from her settled determination, gave his consent, and dealt so secretly in the cause, that within short space he had gotten a Ship ready for their passage. The Mariners, seeing a fit gale of wind for their purpose, wished Toxeus to make no delays, lest if they pretermitted this good weather, they might stay long ere they had such a fair wind. Toxeus fearing that his negligence should hinder the journey, in the night time conveyed the Trunks full of treasure into the Ship, and by secret means let Lysimachus understand, that the next morning they meant to depart: he upon the news slept very little that night, but got him up early and went to his sheep, looking every minute when he should see Varrona. Now see the valiantness of a virgin, or rather consider the force of love, which maketh the weak strong, the witless wise, the simple subtle, yea, and the most cowards most courageous. For that morning Varrona attired herself in one of her Page's apparel, and trudged out of the town, as if she had been sent on some message, and so fast as her faint legs (but strengthened by love) could carry her, she hasted through the woods to the fields, where the saint whom she only honoured was ready to receive her: who though at the first he knew her not, but thought she had been Cupid or Mercury fallen from the heavens, yet at length by her loving looks cast upon him, he knew who it was, and embracing her fast in his arms, said; If jupiter (sweet wench) should see thee in this Page's apparel, no doubt but he would forego his Ganymede, and take thee up into heaven in his steed. O most sovereign Lady and Mistress, what service shall I be able ever to do you, which may countervail this kindness? what duty can be a due recompense to this good will? If I by any means can requite this courtesy, I never doubt to be deemed ungrateful while I live. But accept (good Lady) I beseech you, that which is in me to perform, which is, the faithfullest heart that ever was vowed to Lady, which when it swerveth from you, let the torments of Tantalus, Tytius, Sisyphus, and all the ruthful rout of hell be heaped upon me. Varrona hearing him so earnest, said. Few words (most worthy Lysimachus) are enough to win credit to a matter already believed: for only upon confidence of your constant & faithful heart towards me, I have thus unadvisedly adventured mine honour as you see, desiring you not sinisterly to think of this my attempt, being boldened thereto by the great love which I bore towards you, & by the loyalty which I look for of you towards me. Ah (said Lysimachus) if I should make any ill interpretation of your virtuous love and sincere affection towards me, I were the veriest villain on earth: for I take God to witness, I take your forward will for such friendly favour, that I doubt my deserts will never be able to answer thereto as I desire: and with that he aptly ended his talk upon her mouth. Now from thence they posted to the haven where the Ship lay, not daring any longer to stay for fear of apprehension by posts which should be sent after them. Whither so soon as they were come, the Mariners were ready with their Cockboat to set them aboard, where being couched together in a cabin, they horsting their main sails weighed anchor, and haled into the deep, having a lusty gale in the poop which drove them gallantly forward. But on the next morning about the break of the day, the air began to be overcast, the winds to rise, the seas to swell, yea presently there arose such a fearful tempest as the Ship was in danger to be swallowed up with every sea, the main mast with the violence of the wind was thrown overboard the sails were torn, the tackling went in sunder, the storm raging s●ill so furiously, that poor V●rrona was almost dead for fear, but that she was greatly comforted with the presence of Lysimachus. The tempest continued three days, all which time the mariners every minute looked for death, and the air was so darkened with clouds, that the master could not tell by the compass in what coast they were. But upon the fourth day about nine of the clock, the wind began to cease, the sea to wax calm, and the sky to be clear, and the mariners descried the coast of Arcadia: shooting off their ordinance for joy that they had escaped such a fearful tempest. Lysimachus hearing that they were arrived at some harbour, sweetly kissed Varrona, & bade her be of good courage, being set on land, and rewarding the mariners bountifully for their pains, they sojourned in a little village a mile distant from the sea, where after they had rested for a day, they made provision for their marriage, which according to the sacred rites was solemnly celebrated: which being performed, putting on pilgrim's apparel, they went hand in hand, and heart in heart, wailfully and wilfully wandering in that unknown country Arcadia, to avoid further punishment and displeasure. See (gentlewomen) the lamentable lot of love which drove Varrona from her pleasant palace, from her flourishing friends, from her train of servants, from her sumptuous fare, from her gorgeous garments, from variety of delights, from secure quietness: yea from heavenly happiness, to wild wilderness: to desert dens, to careful caves: to hard cheer with haw●s and hips, to pilgrims pelts: to peril of spoiling, to danger of devouring to misery of mind, to affliction of body, yea to hellish heaviness. O pitiless parent! to prefer his own hate before his child's love, his own displeasures, before his child's pleasures, to forget that himself was once young and subject to love, to measure the fiery flames of youth by the dead coals of age, to govern his child by his own lust, which now is, not which was in times past To seek to alter his natural affection from his daughter upon so ●ight a cause, showing himself a rebel to nature, to undo the destinies, and disappoint the appointment of the Gods, showing himself a traitor to them. Two or three days being passed, and no news heard of Varrona, Syllanus assured of her escape, cried out as a man half lunatic, he was by Lysimachus robbed of his only jewel, whereupon in a despairing fury he cmomanded protion to be sent for in all haste. Who marveling what the matter should be, began to examine his own conscience, wherein he had offended the Duke, but imboldn●d with his inocency, courageously went to the palace: whither assoon as he came, he was not admitted unto the presence of Syllanus, but presently sent to prison. Many passionate thoughts came into his head, till at last he began to fall into consideration of Lysimachus tollies, and to meditate with himself: leaning his head on his hand, and his elbow on his knee, full of sorrow, grief, and disquieted passions, he resolved into these terms. Unhappy protion, whom too much courtesy hath led to these misfortunes, and vain credulity wrapped in the maze of these calamities. Now I see, but alas too late, that the smoothest tales for the most part have put small truth, that the foulest skin is covered with fair paintings, that vice lieth obfuscated in the cinders of honest simplicity. Woe worth the day wherein my eye offended in the prodigality of her sight: woe worth that I pitied his destresses, relieved his wants, took compassion of his necessities, succoured his state, entertained him, favoured, affected him, and approved his behaviour. All these I greatly fear, will if not ruinate myself, yet make shipwreck of my credit and liking with the Duke, so that by living I shall die to want, & by death purchase such a name of infamy as never shall be forgotten: be penitent, & assign thy life some penance to discover thy sorrow, & pacify his wrath. In the depth of this his passion, he was sent for to the duke, who with a look that threatened death, entertained him & demanded of him where his daughter was. protion made answer, that indeed Lysimachus was too familiar with Varrona his daughter▪ whereupon I fearing the worst (quoth he) about 3. or 4. days passed very sharply rebuked him for his sauciness: adding moreover, that if it were not lest, he would bring both upon himself extreme previdice, and eternal confusion upon me and my wife: now the next morning after, I neither heard of him or saw him. Sylla●us perceiving the man's unfeigned simplicity, let him depart without incurring further displeasure, concealing such secret grief for his daughters re●●hlesse folly, that she had so forgotten her honour, and parentage by so base a choice, to dishonour her father, and discredit herself, that with very care and thought he fell into a quartain fever, which was so unfit for his aged years and complexion, that he became so weak, as the Physicians would not grant him no life. And one day being in his agony he breathed out his griefs in this sorrowful sort. I● nature by the divine providence of God, did not move us to the 〈…〉 of mankind, surely the charge of children is such a heavy burden, that it would fear men from entering into the holy state of matrimony. For to omit the inconvenience of their infancy, which are infinite, when they draw once to man's estate, what time they should be a stay to our staggering age, good God with what trouble do they torment ●●●with what cares do they consume us? what annoys do they afflict our decaying years withal? They say we are renewed and revived as it were in our offspring, but we may say we die daily in thinking of the desperate deeds of our children. And as the spider ●●eleth if her web be pricked but with the point of a p●●me: so if our children are touched but with the least trouble that is, we feel the force of it to pierce us to the heart. But how well this tender care is by them considered, alas it maketh my heart bleed to think. If we look for obedience of them, and that ●hey should follow our counsel in the convey of their affairs, why they imagine we dote, and their own wits are far better then ones. If we warn them to be wary and thrifty, they think it proceedeth rather of covetousness then of kindness: if we provide them no marriages, it is because we will depart with no living to them: if we persuade them to marriage, it is because we will have them to forsake all good fellowship, and live like clowns in the country by the plough tail: if we persuade them to learning, it is, that they might live by it without our charge: if we persuade them to one wife rather than an other, it is because the one is richer than the other. If we look severely to them, we love them not: if we use them familiarly, we feed them with flattery, because we will give them little: and so of all our loving deeds they make these lewd devices: yea when we have brought them up with great care and cost, when we have travailed all our time by sea and by land, early and late, in pain and in peril, to heap up treasure for them, when we have by continual toil shortened our own lives, to lengthen and enlarge their livings and possessions, yet if we suffer them not to roist and to riot, to spill and to spoil, to lavish and to consume, yea and to follow the fury of their own frantic fancies in all things, this forsooth is our recompense, they wish an end of our lives, to have our livings. Alas, a lamentable case, why hath not nature caused love to ascend as well as descend? why hath she endued the Stork with this property, to feed his dam when she is old, and men with such malice to wish their parent's death when they are aged? But I speak perchance of my own proper grief, God forbid it should be a common case: for my daughter (why do I call her daughter) hath not only wished my death but wrought it. She knew she was my only delight: she knew I could not live, she being out of my sight: she knew her desperate disobedience would drive me to a desperate death. And could she now so much dote on a poor shepherd, to force so little of her loving father? Alas a husband is to be preferred before Father and Friend▪ but had she none to fix her fancy on but a Swain, the son of I know not whom? Alas love hath no resp●●● of persons: yet was not my good will and 〈◊〉 to be craved therein? alas she saw no possibility to obtain it. But now alas, I would grant my good will, but it is too late, her fear of my fury is too great ever to be found, her 〈◊〉 is too great, ever to look me in the face any more, and my sorrow is too great, ever to be salved. And thereupon got him to bed very heavily affected, daily bewailing the loss of his daughter Varrona, with whom I do now begin. The Sun sojourning in his winter mansion had disrobed Arcadia of all her pleasures, and disgarnished Vesta's mantle of delights variable choice, wherewith Flora had in plenty powdered the freshness of her erst green hue. Night suited in a dusky rob of pitchy darkness, besieged the globe with long shadows, while Phoebus wanting wont vigour, did by darting his scarce reflected beams, afford sural comfort to the earth's increase, so that Arcadia erst the sovereign seat of all content, and sole place of world's perfections, seemed now a pattern of the ancient Chaos, wherein all things (if things) were confounded. Fields flowerlesse, trees leavelesse, ground heatelesse, brooks streamelesse, springs unhaunted, groves unhallowed, augmented this hue of horror, blemish of Europa's paradise. The maiden huntress Arcadia's patroness, did seldom trace the plains guarded with her troop of virgin knights, to fix shafts on the flying beasts, whose wont was in time of heavens more mild aspect, to grace the fields with her daily presence, and when her brother's scorching heat tired her limbs with faintness, to bathe her chaste body in some pleasant brook. Nor did the wanton satires lightly skipping on the painted meads, (painted I mean by nature's workmanship) vaunt their body's agility to the fairy wood-Nymphs. Pan, Arcadia's precedent, penned up himself in his winter lodging, and the other rural powers seeing their glories date ended for that year, shrouded themselves in the place of their wont repose. In this season, a season well fitting their melancholy thoughts distracted with moody passions, Varrona and Lysimachus, the maps of fortune's mutability, left their country, wandered in midst of winter's rage surcharged with sorrow, the extremity whereof made them hapless abjects, while rough Boreas' winter's henchman mustering legions of storms, scourged the plains with a trou●e of tempests, and aimed his violent blasts at the tallest trees to loy their heights pride, and combating with his companions, filled the air with dreadful noise of their tumultuous encounter; these infortunate lovers, in whose minds love martialled millions of striving passions, thus wandering, whom fancy tossed in a boundless Ocean of perplexing thoughts, ceased not their travail till the weathers intemperate fury calmed by heavens milder influence, took truce with time, and sealed the atonement with a sudden change. But when Phoebus renewing his yearly task, and denying longer residence to stormy winter, had pierced earth's entrails with comfortable warmth, opening a fruitful passage for the issue of her womb, to clothe Pomonaes' branches with nature's bounty, and diapre her own mantle with Flora's sense-alluring pomp; Lysimachus and Varrona entered the main continent of Arcadia, where seeing the late hue of horror turned to an heaven of eyes happiness, they redoubled many sighs drawn from the depth of their woeful heart's centre: for remembering that Tellus was erst dismantled, the trees bereaved of their blossoms beauty, earth's natural defects anatomised by time, in the place where frosty Hiems had displayed her icy trophies, they lamented to think that these tokens of world's mutability, had recovered their former flourish by the years timely alteration, but their desperate fortunes (as they imagined) had no hope of any happy spring to calm the winter of their woes. Drowned in these deep meditations, they proceeded pensive, but they had not walked far, when they espied a fair broad Oak, whose spacious branches environed the ground lying underneath with a shady circle. There they determined to rest a while their bodies wearied by long journeys, and somewhat disburden their souls by displaying their sorrows. As thus they were discoursing of their fortunes, they beheld as they looked back an Arcadian, and by his habit seemed a Shepherd, who overhearing the last words of their complaints, and aiming (though amiss) at the occasion of their sorrows, thought that being strangers he lamented the loss of their way, to which imagination applying his words, he began thus. Friends (for so I may term you without offence) the day is almost spent, and the night being dangerous for such as you are, or at least seem to be, I mean strangers: accept then a simple lodging in my cottage, with such homely fare as shepherds houses yield, and when to morrows Sun shall display his bright (though late forceless) beams, ye may prosecute your intended journey, wherein if my directions may further you, ye shall find me ready to afford them. They wondering at such rare humanity harboured in those contemptible weeds, made a long pause as if they had enjoined their mouths to perpetual silence, at last Lysimachus shaped him this reply. Friend (for so your preffered courtesy binds us to term you) muse not that sobs interrupt my words, or sorrows season my discourse, which only comfort my fates have assigned me. What we were we list not now to repeat, what we are, you see, we grieve: a lodging in your cottage we gladly accept: your country fare we will thankfully receive; your directions will be needless, for we wander thus up and down to light on some cottage, where I and my wife, with this our servant may dwell, for we purpose to buy some Farm, and a flock of sheep, to become shepherds, meaning to live low, & content us with a country life: for I have heard some say that they drink without suspicion, & sleep without care. And if this double favour do proceed from you, then in requital of your courtesy, first, we beseech jupiter Xenius the patron of hospitality, and protector of strangers, to bless our labours, prosper our attempts, and enrich your store with hoped plenty: next, we vow by that bright lamp heavens ornament, that if fortune (as she is never stable) raise us from so low an ebb to the wont height of our good hap, we will remunerate your kindness with most ample recompense. Alexis (such was the shepherds name) seeing majesty in their looks, gravity seated in disguise, royalty suited in base attire, gathered by these probable conjectures, that they could be of no mean degree; moved therefore with a deeper remorse, he courteously entreated them to repair to his ●●mple lodging, and remain there till fortune should convert her frowns into favours, protesting that though he could not entertain them as the quality of their condition required, yet he would supply in good will the disabling defects of his low estate; and for the buying of a Farm (quoth he) ye come in good time, for my Landlord intends to sell both the Farm, hill, and the flock I keep, and cheap ye may have them for ready money: which wrought such cheerfulness in their hearts, that they yielded him millions of thanks, and accompanied him to his house. Into which when they entered, they found it not gorgeously embossed, yet gailie trimmed: not courtly, yet comely: though homely, yet handsome: and they were kindly welcomed by Alexis wife, who gréeted them with a merry countenance, being by her husband certified of their fortunes. The next morn they lay long in bed, as wearied with the toil of unaccustomed travail; but as soon as they got up, they resolved there to set up their rest, & by the help of Alexis, swapped a bargain with his Landlord, and so became masters of the Farm, & of the flock, herself putting on the attire of a Shepherdess, and Lysimachus of a young swain, both esteemed famous amongst the Shepherds of Arcadia. Living thus jointly together, they began to be as Ciceronicall, as they were amorous, with their hands thrift coveting to satisfy their heart's thirst, & to be as diligent in labours, as they were affectionate in loves, so that the parish wherein they lived so affected them for the course of their life, that they were counted the very mirrors of a democratical method. Living thus in a league of united virtues, fortune envying their prosperity, raised up one Maechander to race & beat down if it were possible, the firm foundation of their faithful building, and biding together. For this Maechander glancing his gazing eyes on the blazing beauty of Varrona, received so deep an impression of her perfection in his heart, that immediately he fixed his fancy upon her comely corpse. And being the chief ruler of the city, he persuaded himself that there was none in that town so stout, but would stoop at his lure: nor any so fair, but would fain employ themselves to pleasure him: but one the other side, the renowned virtue of Varrona came to his mind, which persuaded an impossibility to his purpose: and floating thus between hope and despair, he entered into these terms. O miserable wretch that I am, to whom shall I address my complaints? Is it the heavenly power & gods of love that have deprived me of my senses, & showed their done working in me? Or is it the hellish hags, and spirits of spite, that bereaved me of reason, & executed their cruelty on me? Is it love that leadeth me to this lust? or is it hate that haileth me to this hurt & mischief. No, no, the Gods guide us to goodness, the furies of hell they force us to filthiness: neither doth that any way deserve the name of love, which bringeth such torment to my troubled mind, that all the devils in the world could not perform the like. But see my rashness, why am I so blindly bold, beastly to blaspheme against that which proceeds altogether from nature, which nature hath imparted to all men, and which I ought to follow without repining or resisting? for so long as I follow nature as my guide, I cannot do amiss, & seeing nature hath taught us to love, why should I not rather prove her precepts, than rebuke that which by nature's lore is allowed? And touching torment of mind, or other inconvenience that it bringeth, is it all able to impair the least comfort which I shall enjoy in embracing my Varrona? Is it not meet that he which would reap, should sow, he that would gather fruit, should plant trees, he that would reach the sweet rose, should now and then be scratched with the sharp briars? I mean, is it meet, if I purpose to possess so proper a piece as Varrona is, that I should eschew labours, or refuse any peril in the pursuit thereof? And hereupon he determined to follow the fury of his fancy, what pangs or danger soever he thereby endured, & having resolved many ways in his mind how he might aspire to his purpose, at length he resolved upon this, to institute a sumptuous banquet: whereto he invited the chief of the city, amongst whom Lysimachus & his wife Varrona were not forgotten, the only authors of the feast. Now for the more ●oyall receiving of his guests, he met them at the entry into his palace, and gave them this greeting. Fair Ladies, as I am right joyful of your presence, so am I no less sorrowful for the pains you have taken, in undertaking so great a journey this dark and misty evening, for the which I must account myself so much the more beholding to you, by how much greater your labour was in coming, and by how much less your cheer shall be able to countervail it now you are come. And taking Varrona by the hand, he said softly unto her. I pity the pains of these gentlewomen the less, for that you were in their company, whose piercing eyes, as celestial stars, or heavenly lamps, might serve for ●ights in the dark, whose sweet face might perfume the air from all noisome smells which might annoy them, & beholding your lively looks, & perfect shape, they might take such delight, that the weariness of the way could nothing molest or grieve them. Varrona hearing herself so greatly praised of so great a parsonage as he was, could not keep the roses red out of her alabaster cheeks, & thinking no serpentine malice to lie hid under these m●rrie & sugared words, she gave him this courteous answer. If sir the company had made no better provision for lights, and other things necessary, than such as you speak o●, they might soon have slipped into the mire: but as I perceive by your words, you are disposed to jest, and be merry, so I am content for this once to be made the instrument thereof, thereby to ease some part of the pains which you are like to take in receiving such troublesome guests as we are: and for our cheer you need take no thought, for it shall be so much too good for us, by how much less we have deserved any at all your hands. After this amorous encounter, he caused the company to sit down to the banquet, and so disposed the matter that Varrona sat at the table right over against him, whereby he freely ●ed his eyes on that meat which converted rather to the nourishment of sickness, then to wholesome humours of health. For as the finest meats, by one in extremity of sickness, resolve not to pair blood, to strengthen the body, but to waterish humours to feed the liver and disease, so though her face and looks were fine and sweet, and brought delight to all the beholders eyes, yet to him they wrought only torment & vexation of mind. And notwithstanding he perceived her beauty to breed his bane, and her looks to procure the loss of his liberty, & that as the Cockatrice by sight only slayeth, so she by courteous countenance only killed & wounded his heart, yet would he not refrain his eyes from beholding her, but according to the nature of the sickly patient, which chiefly desireth that which most of all is forbidden him, he so incessantly threw his passionate glances towards her, that his eyes were altogether bleared with her beauty, and she also at the length began to perceive his loving looks towards her, which made her look pale, in token of the little pleasure she took in his toys, & of the great fear she had least some other should mark them, whereby her good name might come in question. The banquet being ended, every one of them prepared themselves to hear a stage play, which was then ready to be performed: But Maechander being able to play but one part, which was of a poor distracted lover, determined to go forward with the tragedy already begun between Varrona and him, and seeing her set out of her husband's sight, placed himself by her, and entered into reasoning with her, to this purpose. If (fair Varrona) this simple banquet had been so sweet and pleasant to your seemly self and the rest, as your sight is delightful to me, I am persuaded you would not have changed your cheer for Nectar and Ambrosia, which the Poets feign to be food of the gods, but seeing there was no cause of delight in the one, & the other containeth that in it which may content the Gods themselves, I shall desire you in good part to accept the one, and courteously to accept me worthy to enjoy the other. And though I have not heretofore by dutiful service manifested unto you the loyalty of my love, yet if my poor heart could signify unto you the assaults which it hath suffered for your sake, I doubt not but that you would confess, that by force of love I had won you, & were worthy to wear you. For albeit by human laws your husband only hath interest in you, yet by nature's laws, which being more ancient, aught to be of more authority, he ought to enjoy you, which joyeth most in you: which loveth you best, & endureth most pain for your sake. And for proof of nature's laws, may it please you to consider the quality of the she wolf, who always chooseth that wolf for her make, who is made most lean and foul by following her: besides that, my title marcheth under the ensign of justice, which is a virtue: giving to every one according to his deserts: & that the reward of love, is only love again, I know you are not ignorant. For all the Gods in the world are not able to requite good will, the one belonging to the mind, the other incident to the body: but from the equity of my cause I appeal to your good grace & favour: and at the bar of your beauty, I humbly hold up my hands, meaning to be tried by your own courtesy, & my own loyalty, & minding to abide your sentence either of consent unto life, or denial unto death. Varrona hearing this discourse, looked one while read for shame, another while pale for anger: neither would disdain let her make him answer, nor grief give her leave to hold her peace: but standing in a maze, between silence and speaking, at length she broke of the one, and burst out into the other in this sort. If (sir) your banquet had been no better, than this your talk is pleasant unto me, I am persuaded the dishes would have been taken whole from the table without touching: but as the one was far better than the company deserved, so the other, for a far worse woman might more fitly have seemed: & if your sweet meat have such sour sauce, the next time you send for me I will make you such an answer as was made to Craterus the Emperor by Diogenes, when he sent for him to make his abode with him in his court: who answered, he had rather be fed at Athens with salt, then to live with him in all delicacy: so for my part, I promise you. I had rather be fed at home with bread & water, them pay so dearly for dainty dishes. Touching the pains you have endured for my sake, I take your words to be as false towards me, as you would make my faith towards my husband: But admit they were true, seeing I have not been the cause of them, I count not myself bound in conscience to countervail them, only I am sorry they were not bestowed on some more worthy your estate, and less worthy an honest name then myself▪ which being the chief riches I have, I mean most diligently to keep. The interest which cauellingly you claim in me, as it consisteth of false premises, so though they were true, yet the conclusion which you infer thereof followeth not necessarily. For were it so that your love were greater towards me than my husbands (which you cannot induce me to believe) yet seeing he by order of law hath first taken possession of me, your title succeeding his, your succession & suit must needs be cold & nought: for as yourself saith of laws so of titles, the first are ever of most force, and the most ancient of most authority. Your wolvish example though it show your foxely brain, yet doth it in force no such proof to your purpose, but that by my former reason it may be refelled, for that the wolf is free from the proper possession of any: but therein truly you observe decorum▪ in using the example of a beast in so brutish a cause: for like purpose like proof: like man like matter. Your manly marching under the ensign of justice, if reason be your Captain general to lead you, I doubt not but soon to turn to a retire: for if it be good will which you bear me, I must needs grant you duly deserve the like again, but when you are able to prove it good will to deflower my chastity, to bereave me of my good name, to despoil me of my honour, to cause me to transgress the bonds of honesty, to infringe my faith towards my husband, to violate the sacred rites of Matrimony, with other innumerable enormities, when I say you are able to prove these to proceed from affection, then will I willingly yield consent to your request. But see the unreasonableness of your suit, would you have me in showing courtesy towards you, commit cruelty towards myself? Should I in extending mercy to you, bring myself to misery? Should I place you in pleasure, and displace myself of all joy? For what solace can a woman purchase, having lost her chastity, which ought to be the joy, iowell, and ien●me of all Gentlewomen of what calling and countenance soever? Your appeal from your own cause to my courtesy, bewrayeth the naughtiness thereof: for if it be not ill, why stick you not too it? if it be good, why appeal you from it? But seeing you have constituted me judge in this case, you know it is not the part of a judge to deal partially, or to respect the man more than the matter, or to tender more my own case then your cause: therefore indifferently this sentence definitive I give, I condemn you henceforth to perpetual silence in this suit, and that you never hereafter open your mouth herein, being a matter most unseemly for your honour, and most prejudicial to my honesty: and in abiding this sentence (if you can be content with honest amity) for the courtesy which I have found at your hands, and for the good will which you pretend to bear me, I promise you, you shall enjoy the second place in my heart, and you shall find me friendly in all things, which either you with reason can ask, or I with honesty grant. Maechander having heard this angel thus amiably pronouncing these words, was so rapt in admiration of her wisdom, and ravished in contemplation of her beauty, that though she had not enjoined him to silence, yet had he not had a word to say: and lest his looks might bewray his love, and his countenance discover his case, he secretly and suddenly withdrew himself into his chamber, to study what face to set on the matter: and casting himself upon the bed, after he had dreamt a while upon his doting devices, at length he awaked out of his wavering thoughts, and recovering the possession of his senses again, he sung this mournful Ditty. Maechanders' Sonnet. O Cupid thou, which dost in ha●ty skies, Amongst the great and mighty gods sojourn: And eke that present art with terreine wight●▪ To cause their hearts with lovers laws to burn. To thee O God, whose bow and golden sha●● Doth wound both gods, and men alike: And causest every one, to yield themselves to thee, And subjects to become, for all Diana's spite. To thee I make, and swear my fixed vow, If I by help of thee, my wished joys attain: Then must I only praise thy mighty bow, And subject will to thee always remain. By this time the Play was ended, and his guests ready to depart, whereupon he was driven to come forth of his chamber, to take leave of them: and bidding his mistress good night, he gave her such a look, that his very eyes seemed to plead for pity: so that what his tongue durst not, his eyes did. His guests being gone, he disposed himself to rest, but love willed him otherwise to employ that night, which was in examining particularly every point of her answer. And though the first part seemed somewhat sharp and rigorous, and the second contained the confutation of his cause, yet the third and last part seemed to be mixed with metal of more mild matter, which he repeated to himself a thousand times, and thereupon, as upon a firm foundation, determined to raise up his building again, which the two former parts of her answer had utterly ransacked to the ground. But mistaking the nature of the soil whereon the foundation was laid, his fabric (as if it had been set in the sand) soon came to ruin: for by that promise of friendship, which she kindly made him, he sinisterly conceived hope of obtaining that, which she neither with honour could promise, nor with honesty perform: and feeding himself with that vain hope, in great bravery, as in a manner assured of the victory, he wrote unto her to this effect. Machander to Varrona, wisheth what he wants himself. ALbeit good mistress, you have enjoined my tongue to silence, yet my hands are at liberty to bewray the secrets of my heart: and though you have taken my heart prisoner, yet my head hath free power to plead for release and relief. Neither would I you should count me in the number of those cowardly soldiers, who at the first Canon that roareth, give over the siege: for I have been always settled in this opinion, that the more hard the sight is, the more haughty is the conquest● and the more doubtful the battle, the more doughty the victory. And as it is not the part of a politic Captain to put himself in peril, without hope of gain or praise: so to win the bulwark of your breast, I count it a more ●ich booty, than Caesar had in ransacking so many Cities: and a most r●●e praise, than ever Alexander had in subduing so many nations. And though my presumption may seem great in assaulting one as is your sweet self, yet seeing in all degrees of friendship equality is chiefly considered, I trust you will clear me of crime that way: neither would I you should think my flight so free, as to stoop 〈…〉 the haughty Hawk will not pray on carrion, so neither will courtly silks practise country sluts. 〈◊〉 because I 〈◊〉 that to be in you, which both concerneth my ca●●ing and consenteth with my fancy, I have chosen 〈◊〉 to for the● 〈◊〉 of my devotions, humbly 〈…〉 that it may not be said your name hath been, called upon in vain▪ ●hereby you may lose that honour which I in 〈…〉 unto you. The benefit which you bestow on me, 〈…〉 the second place in your heart, as I mus● 〈…〉, though somewhat unthankfully, so must I crave a greater, though 〈…〉 heart and body are yours, 〈…〉 amends. Weigh the mat●●● uprigh 〈…〉 cas● courteously, and take compassion on me 〈…〉 Yours altogether Maechander. To this letter ●e 〈◊〉 this passion. MY boat doth pass the straits of seas incensed with fire: Filled with forgetfulness, amidst the winter's night: A blind and careless boy, (brought up by fond desire) Doth guide me in the sea of sorrow and despite. For every oar, he sets a ran●e of foolish thoughts, And cuts (in stead of wave) a hope without distress, The winds of my deep sighs (that thunder still for nought,) Have split my sails with fear, with care and heaviness. A mighty storm of tears, a black and hideous cloud, A ●housand fierce disdains, Do slack the tackle oft, Till ignorance doth pull, and error hale the shroud, No star for safety shines, no Phoebe from aloft. Time hath subdued art, and joy is slave to woe, Alas (love-guide) be kind, what, shall I perish so ● Varrona having received and read this letter, was assailed diversely: sometimes with sorrow, in thinking on the time she first saw him, or he her: sometimes with repentance of her former promise made him: sometime with pity on his part: 〈◊〉 with pity on her own: but at length pity vanquished pity, and caused her to send this rough reply to his letter. Varrona wisheth to Machander remorse of conscience, and regard of honesty. THe little account you make of me, and my good will, I perceive by the little care you have to satisfy that which I gave you in charge. You would ill have done as the knight V●●● did, who at the commandment of his Lady Lis●● forbear the use of his tongue, and remained dumb the term● of three years. But as you subtly think to discharge yourself of my injunction, by writing, and not speaking, so by writing I simply do you understand, that from henceforth you look for no more favour at my hands, then at strangers, I will not say an enemies. For seeing my promise was but upon condition, the condition being violated, my promise is void. And seeing you have played the pelting merchant venturer, to hazard that good will and credit you have had with me, to get more, the tempest of my just displeased mind hath driven your suit against the rough rocks of repulse, and you have made shipwreck of al. Your courageous persisting in your purpose, proveth you rather a desperate sot than a discreet soldier: for to hop against the hill, & strive against the stream, hath e●er been counted extreme folly. Your valiant venturing for a pray of value, proceeds rather of covetousness then of courage: for the valiant soldier seeketh glory, not gain: but therein you may be fitly resembled to the caterpillar, which eleaveth only to the good friute: or to the moth, which most of all eateth the best cloth: or to the canker, which commonly breedeth in the fairest rose. The equality which you pretend to be between us, is altogether unequal, for both you 〈◊〉 me in degree, and I ●●ell you in honesty 〈◊〉 neither in calling or quality, their i● any equality between us Whereas you have chosen me for your goddess, I beseech you suffer me to remain an earthly creature: and 〈◊〉 you that God which can bridle your wanton desires, and give you grace 〈…〉 leave to live honest●●e by you, 〈…〉 vain, who will verily punish your vanity at the length, though for a time he suffer you to wallow in your wickedness. For it is the prudent policy of God, 〈◊〉 suffer the sinful long time to swim in their sin, to make their downfall more hideous, by their sudden shrinking from prosperity to adversity. For that is ever most bitter unto him, who hath long time lived in prosperity: neither must you think that that which is deferred is taken way. For as 〈◊〉 self or 〈◊〉 other, that oweth 〈◊〉, though you defer your creditor for a time, yet you defraud him 〈…〉, though God take days with you soon 〈◊〉 yet assure yourself he will pay you at the length: yea and 〈◊〉 with large usury, besides the due debt. And this good counsel take of me, as the last benefit which you shall 〈…〉 at my hands. Yours nothing at all, Varrona. Maechander having sin this rigorous resolution of his mistress, went another way to work, he subdr●ed ●n old woman of the city, well seen in soliciting such suits, to go 〈◊〉 her and present her from him with many rich jewels, all which (he wiled her to tell) he would willingly bestow for one simple consent of her good will. The old woman 〈…〉 would have said) having done his shameful message, said 〈◊〉 self in this sort. Surely mistress Varrona, if the experience which old years have given me, might crave credit for the counsail● which I shall give you, I would not wish you to 〈◊〉 the 〈…〉 such a one as is Maechander, 〈…〉 pearls, and fulfil you with pleasures every way: Neither is it wisdom for you to spend your golden years, but in a golden pleasure, and not to be tied to one 〈◊〉 which bringeth 〈◊〉 and loath●●mnesse, but ●o have choice of change which bringeth appetite and lustiness. The chaste ears of Varrona not able to endure this base discourse, she cut of her ghostly counsel with these invective words. Gentlewoman if you were endued with as many good conditions as you have lived years, you would never have undertaken so shameful a message: and were it not more for reverence of your years, then in respect of your errand, I would make your filthy trade of life so famous, that you should ever hereafter be ashamed to show your face in any honest company. What do you think, though money can make you a bawd, that it can make me an harlot? and though you for gain flee no filthiness, that I for glory follow no faithfulness either towards my spouse and husband, or towards my Lord and God? Do you judge me so covetous of coin, or so prodigal of my honour, that to get the one, I will lose the other? Or doth he that sent you think so obiectlie of me, that gain may more prevail with me then good will, money more than a man, jewels more than gentleness, pearls more than troubles which he hath endured for my sake? No let him understand, if any thing could have caused me to serve from my duty, love not lure should have alured me thereto. But as I am fully resolved, faithfully to keep my vow, and promise made to my husband, so I beseech him not to bestow any more labour in attempting that, unto which he shall never attain: for before this my resolution shall be reversed, he shall see the dissolution of my body into dust. But if he will not thus give over his suit, he will cause me to make those privy to his dealings, who will make him ashamed of them: and for your part, pack you hence with this your trumpery, to those which measure their honour by the price of profit, and their glory by the guerdon of gain. This good old subaudi gentlewoman being gone away with a flea in her ear, Varrona began to think on the matter with advised deliberation, and entered into reasoning with herself in this sort. What fearful folly is this in me to contemn the friendship of so great a Lord, whom the bravest Lady in this land would willingly receive for husband, and I rigorously refuse for servant? What is that honour whereupon I stand so stiffly? Shall it not rather increase my dignity, to have so noble a servant? And what is that chastity which I seek so charily so keep? Do not some men say, that women always live chastened enough, so that they live charily enough? that is, so that they convey their matters so covertly, that their doings be not commonly known: for otherwise to incontinency were added impudency; likewise for a woman to enter in conversation with a rascal of no reputation, cannot be but a great blemish to the brightness of her name: for a foul adulterer, is ever worse than adultery itself. And is it not a great sign she loatheth her husband, when she liketh one better, which is every way worse? But to have a friend of reservation whose very countenance may credit her husband, methinks cannot be no great dishonour, either to the one, or to the other. What discredit was it to Helen, when she left her husband Menelaus and went with Paris to Troy? did not the whole glory of Greece to her great glory go in arms to fetch her again? And if she had not been counted a piece of price, or if by that fact she had defaced her honour, is it to be thought the Grecians would have continued ten years in war continually to win her again? But to leave honour and chastity, and come to commodity and safety, what do I know what perils will follow of this repulse? Is it likely Maechander will put up this reproach patiently? May I not justly look to have his love turned to hate, and that he will either by tyrannous means seek the subversion of my husband, or by treacherous designments work the overthrow of me, and my good name? For the first, Edward a King of England may serve for an example, who when the Countess of Salisbury would not consent to content his incontinent desire, he so raged against her parents and friends, as that the father was forced to persuade his own daughter to folly, and the mother as a bawd to prostitute her to the King's lust, and bring her to his privy chamber. For the second, the Earl of Pancaliar may serve for testimony, who when the Duchess of Savoy would not yield to his lascivious lust, wrought such wiles, that she was condemned for adultery, and judged to suffer most shameful death by burning. Now to prevent either of these perils, it lieth in my power: and seeing of evils the least is to be chosen, I think it better than to hazard life, living, or good name, to lose that which shall be no great loss to my husband or myself: for as the Sun though it shine on us here in Arcadia, yet it giveth light likewise to those which are in England, and other places, so is there that in me wherewith Lysimachus may be satisfied, and Maechander sufficed. And this encourageth me thereto the rather, for that I see by experience in most of my neighbours, that those are ever most made of, who that way deal most falsely with their husbands. Besides that, how openly soever they deal in these affairs, their husbands never hear of it: and though they do, yet will they not hearken unto it: and albeit they do in a manner see it, yet will they not believe it: and though thereto they give credance, yet will they love them the better, to have them leave it the sooner. Again, what know I whether my husband deals falsely with me, and row in some other stream, which if it be so, I shall but save his soul in paying his debts, and exercise the virtue of justice in requiting like for like. And touching the corruption of my blood, I think it made more noble, in participating with one of more dignity than is my husband. But canst thou harlot call him husband whom thou meanest so wickedly to betray? Am I in my wits to use these senseless words? Is it my mouth that hath uttered this blasphemy? or was it the Devil within me that delivered it forth? No if I were guilty but in thought hereto, I would restore the fault with criminal penance: yea if I felt any part in me apt to any such evil, I would cut it off, for fear of infecting the rest of the body. Good God whither now is honour fled, which was ever wont to be the fairest flower in my garland? whither now is chastity banished, which hath been always the chiefest stay of my state? shall the sun of my shining life be now eclipsed with an act ●o filthy, that the very remembrance thereof is no less grievous than death? Why was Helen for all her heavenvly how any other accounted then a common harlot? and was it not only to be revenged on her, and on her champion Paris that the Grecians continued their siege so long? And touching the inconveniences which may incur by this refusal, is any evil worse than dishonesty? Is there any thing to be feared more than offence? Is not the less of goods less than of ones good name? Is not an honourable death to be preferred before an infamous life? And touching the Countess before rehearsed, had she ever married with the King if she had not continued in her constancy to the end? And for the Duchess of Savoy, what hurt sustained she by that false accusation? did it not make her glory and virtue show more splendentlie to the view of the whole world? yes no doubt of it. For like as streams the more you hinder their current, the greater is the deluge, or as the herb Camomtle, the more it is suppressed, the more it spreadeth abroad: even so virtue and honesty, the more they are wronged with envy, the more they elevate and extend their flourish: for honour evermore is the reward of virtue, and doth accompany it as duly as the shadow doth the body. And as the Sun though it be under a cloud keepeth still his brightness, albeit by us it cannot be discerned: so virtue though it be darkened with devilish devices, yet it reserveth her power and vigour still, though to us it seem utterly to be extinguished: so that so long as I remember virtue and honesty, I need not care what man, what malice, or the devil can devise against me. No, no, sweet husband, I will not make thee ashamed to show thy face amongst the best of them: and I will let thee understand the villainy which that viper Maechander endeavoureth to do thee. And shall I deal so fond indeed? Is not the repulse punishment enough, unless I bewray his doings to Lysimachus, and so procure him further displeasure? yea, I might thereby be occasion to set them together by the ears, whereby it might fall out (as the event of battle is always doubtful) that my husband might be hurt, or slain, and the common report would be (as the people are ever prone to speak the wrost) that I, being an ill woman, had conspired his confusion and set Maechander to slay him. And though no such thing chanced (as God forbid it should) yet this at least I should be sure to get by it, that my husband ever after would be jealous over me, and right careful would he be to keep that which he saw others so busily to seek. And (such is the malice of men) perchance he would judge some light behaviour in me to be the cause that encouraged Maechander to attempt my chastity. For men have this common opinion amongst them, that as there is no smoke but where there is fire, so sieldome is there any servant love, but where there hath been some kindness showed to kindle one's desire. Moreover, this toy may take him in the head, that it is a practice between us two to prevent suspicion, and cloak our love: and with the firm persuasion of my invincible chastity, to lull him a sleep in security, and than most to deceive him, when he least suspected guile. And if at any time he hear of it by others, I may stop his mouth with this, that I myself told him of it, which if I had meant to deal falsely with him, I would not have done. Yea what know I whether he will like the better or worse of me, for breeding such a bees nest in his brain? Lastly, I should derogate much from my own chastity, and in a manner accuse myself of proneness to fall that way, as though I were not strong enough to withstand his assaults without the assistance of my husband. Yes God, in whom I repose my trust, shall fortify me against the fury of my foes, and give me grace with wisdom to escape his wiles, with chariness to eschew his charms, and with piety to resist his pravity. Now to return to Maechander: so soon as that old bawd had related unto him at large the answer of his mistress, he fell from the place where he sat, flat upon the groved, and lay in a trance a great while: and now those sparks which before love had kindled in him, were with continual sighs so blown, as it were with a pair of bellows, that they broke forth into fiery flames, & that which before was fancy, was now turned into turie. For being come to himself, or rather being quite past himself, with staring looks, pale countenance, with fier●e eyes with gnashing teeth, with trembling tongue, in rage he roared forth these words. And shall I thus be frustrate of my desire? shall I with words and works, with prayers and presents, pursue the good will of a dainty disdaining dame, and receive but labour for my love, and grief for my affection? But oh frantic fool, why do I in a fury rage against her, who is the most fair and courteous creature under heaven? No, it is that churl Lysimachus that soweth the seed of my sorrow, it is his severity towards her, that causeth her cruelty towards me, the fear which she hath of him, is the cause, she dareth not take compassion on my afflictions. And shall be swim in bliss, and I lie drenched in deep despair? shall he be ingorged with pleasure, and I pine away in pain? No I will make him feel that once, which he maketh me feel athousand times a day. And hereupon determined with himself by some means or other, to procure the death of Lysimachus, thinking thereby the sooner to obtain his purpose of his wife. And calling unto him one of his swearing swashbuckler servants, he laid before him the platform of his purpose, and told him plainly if he would speedily dispatch Lysimachus out of the way, he would give him a thousand crowns in his purse, to keep him in another country. His servant though altogether past grace, yet for fashion sake began to advise his master more wisely, saying. For my own part it maketh no matter, for an other country is as good for me as this, and I count any place my country where I may live well and wealthily: But for yourself, it is requisite that extraordinary care be added, in regard that your love towards Varrona is kowne to divers of this city, by reason whereof, if I should commit any such fact, it must needs be thought that you are accessary thereto, which will turn, though not to your death, (for that none hath authority above you to execute the rigour of the laws upon you) yet to your utter shame and reproach it cannot but convert. Tush (said his master) the case is light where counsel can take place: what talkest thou to me of shame, that am by imurious and spiteful dealing deprived of the use of reason, and dispossessed of my wits and senses. Neither am I the first that have played the like part. Did not David the chosen servant of God, being blasted with the beauty of Bersheba, cause her husband Urias to be set in the vanward to be slain, which done he married his wife? And why is it not lawful for me to do the like? But I know the worst of it, if then wilt not take it upon thee, I will either perform it myself, or procure some other that shall. The man seeing how his master was bend, both to satisfy his mind, and to gain so great a sum of money, consented assoon as opportunity would give him leave to murder Lysimachus: wherewith Maechander remained somewhat appeased, hoping now to be invested into the throne of his delights. But the ground of this unnatural devise was most strangely detected. For all their consultations were overheard by Conscionato, an other of Maechanders' men, but more religiously addicted, being then resident in a chamber near adio●ning unto that place wherein those things were thus debated. He utterly condemning his masters too much luxurious thoughts, and greatly misliking his fellows impudent promise, but especially affecting Lysimachus as a man in whom the true sparks of virtue were eminent, made manifest incontinently the whole conspiracy, which Maechander for the love of his wife had devised against him, desiring him not to account him a traitor for bewraying his masters counsel, but to think that he did it for conscience: hoping that although his master inflamed with desire, or incensed by lust, had imagined such causeless mischief, yet when time should assuage his desires, and moderate his affections, that then he would count him as a faithful servant, that with such care had kept his masters credit. Lysimachus had not fully heard the man tell forth his tale, but a quaking fear possessed all his limunes, thinking that there was some plot wrought, and that the fellow did but shadow his craft with these false colours; wherefore he began to wax in choler, and said that he doubted not Maechander, sith he was his friend, and there h●d never as yet been any breach of amity: he had not sought any ways to wrong him, with slanderous speeches to offend him, by sinister reports to molest his patience: but in word and thought he rested his at all times: he knew not therefore any cause that should move Maechander to seek his death, but suspected it to be a compacted kna●●rie of some, to bring the gentlewoman and him at odds. Conscionato staying him in the midst of his talk, told him, that to dally with suspected friends, was with the Swans to sing against their death: and that if some had intended any such secret mischief, it might have 〈◊〉 better brought to pass, then by 〈◊〉 the conspiracy: therefore he did ill to misconstrue of his good meaning, 〈◊〉 his intent was to hinder murder, not to become a murderer: and to confirm his promise, if it pleased him with his wife to fl●● out of Arcadia for the safeguard of his life, he would go with him, and if then he found not such a practice to be pretended, let his imagined treachery be repaid with most monstrous torments. Lysimachus hearing the solemn protestation of the servant, attributed credit thereto, willing him to abide at his house a day or two, that thereby the man which should accomplish this stratagem being discovered, he might with more security avoid the ensuing danger. Now when the 〈◊〉 was grown by many hours aged, Conscionato who had given Lysimachus to understand of this intended purpose might espy where his fellow Christopher do mala mente came posting to his house amain, which thing after Lysimachus had known, aiming himself for the purpose, as having a sword obscured by the coverture of his cloak, walked down a grove which Christopher perceiving, and seeing none near for his succour, with his cutlax violently rushed upon him: but Lysimachus having evermore an eye upon him, with facility avoided the blow, and with such courage threw him to the ground, falling upon his chest with so willing a weight, that Christopher yielded nature her one, and Lysimachus the victory. He forthwith informed the chief officers of the city of these accidents, who examining very effectually the matter, found Maechander a duating lecher, whereupon they not only amersed him a great fine to be paid to Lysimachus and Varrona, but put him for ever after from bearing any office in that city. Thus where these two lovers delivered from their enemies, and reckoned now famous for their virtues through all Arcadia. This strange event spread abroad through all the country, and as same flies swift and far, so at length it came to the ears of Syllanus, who hearing by sundry reports the same of their forwardness, how Lysimachus coveted to be most loving to his daughter, and she most dutiful to him, and both to strive to exceed one another in loyalty, and glad at this mutual agreement, he fell from the fury of his former melancholy passion, and satisfied himself with a contented patience, that at last he directed letters to his son in law, that he should make repair to his house with his daughter. Which news was no sooner come to the ears of this married couple, but providing for all things necessary for the furniture of their voyage, they posted as fast as they could to the sea coast. Where taking ship, and having a prosperous gale, in a day and a night they were set on shore in Thessalia: who speedily arriving at their father's house, found such friendly entertainment at the old man's hand, that they counted this smile of fortune able to countervail all the contrary storms that the adverse Planets had inflicted upon them. Syllanus for the safe recovery of his daughter, surprised with exceeding great joy, wait the last end of his lives legend. Lysimachus after the death of his father in law was created Duke of Hypatae, and being willing to recompense old protion, of a shepherd made him a knight. Toxeus was preferred into the king's service, being substituted Captain of his guard: and because I will not blot from your thoughts the remembrance of all those actions, Conscioanato by act of parliament was made Baron of Cypera, & their farm in Arcadia made sure to Alexis, Et haeredibussuis in perpetuum. These two lovers thus floating in the top of lovers gallantise, transtreated the sea of their life in so peaceable a calm, turning all their actions with the sweet consents of mutual amity, that they were accounted the only precedents of married government. What should I say? they lived a mirror to men, a wonder to women, and a maze to all, which when it changeth expect for news. Now to close up this comical Catastrophe with a tragical stratagem, I will relate unto you the history of Valintine, brother to Lysimachus, and the fortunes of those two suborned villains, as in the beginning hereof I promised. The History of Valentine, and the two Beggars. VAlentine utterly forgetting the abuses which he had offered his brother, thought himself so surely seated, as no sinister chance or dismal influence might remove. She that is constant in nothing but inconstancy, began in a fair sky to produce a tempest thus. It fell out as he frequented the court of Diocles' King of Macedonia, that he fired his eyes on the face of a noble gentlewoman, named Fulvia, daughter of Hermodius. And as the mouse mumpeth so long at the bait, that at length she is taken in the trap: so he bit so long at the bait of her beauty, that at length he was caught in Cupid's snare. And on a time as she was at cards in the presence chamber, this youth Valentine stood staring in her face in a great study, which Fulvia perceiving, to bring him out of it prayed him to reach her a bowl of wine, which stood upon a cupboard by: and as he approached therewith to the place of her presence, his senses were so ravished with the sight of her sweet face, that he let the bowl fall forth of his hands, and retiring back with seemly shamefastness, went for more, and being come therewith, she thanked him for his pains, saying, I pray God that the fall of the wine hinder not my winning, and bring me ill luck, for I know many that cannot away to have salt, or drink, or any such like thing fall towards them. Madam (said Valentine) I have often heard it disputed in Schools, that such as the cause of every thing is, such will be the effect, and seeing the cause of this chance was good, I doubt not but the effect will follow accordingly: and if any evil doth ensue thereof, I trust it will light on my head, through whose negligence it happened. Fulvia answered, as I know not the cause, so I fear not the effect, and in deed as you say, hitherto you have had the worst of it, for that thereby you have been put to double pains. If that be all (said he) rather than it shall be said any evil to have ensued of this chance, I will persuade myself that every pain which you shall put me to, shall be double delight, and unto me treble contentation. You must use (quoth she then) great eloquence, to persuade you to such an impossibility. Oh if it please you (said he) there is an Orator which of late hath taken up his dwelling within me, who hath eloquence to persuade to a far greater matter than this. If (said she) he persuade you to things no more behoveful for yourself then this, if you will admit of my admonition, you shall not give him house-room long. Madam (replied he) it is an assured sign of a free and friendly mind to give good counsel, but it is hard for one in bondage, and out of his own possession to follow it. For what know you whether he hath already taken entire possession of the house wherein he is, which if it be so, what wit is able to devise a writ to remove him from thence? If sir (said she) he entered by order of law, and paid you truly for it, it is reason he enjoy it: mary your folly was great to retain such a tenant: but if he intruded himself by force, you may lawfully exclude him by strength. Indeed (said he) he entered vi & armis, forcibly, but after upon parley, I was content he should remain in peaceable possession, mary as yet he paid me nothing, but he promiseth so frankly, that if the performance follow, a house with beams of beaten gold, and pillars of precious stones, will not countervail the price thereof: yet if I were placed in quiet possession of it, I would think myself richer, I will not say then the King, but which is more, than God himself, who ruleth heaven and earth. And as the hope of obtaining the effect of that promise heaveth me up to heaven, so the doubt ●o be deceived thereof driveth me down to hell. And what jolly fellow (said she) is this that promiseth so frankly? will he not promise golden hills, and perform dirty da●es? Would to God (said he) your seemly self were so well acquainted with him as I am, than would I make you judge of the worthiness of the thing he hath promised, for that you know the goodness thereof, none better. The Lady smelling the drifts of his devices, and seeing the end of his talk seemed to tend to love, and that touching her own self, thought not good to draw on their discourse any longer, but concluded with this answer. As I am altogether ignorant what your obscure talk meaneth, so care I not to be acquainted with any such company as is your Landlord, for so (me thinks by you) I may more fitly call him, then term him your tenant: and so departed away into her lodging. Valentine likewise his mistress being gone, gate him to his Chamber to entertain his amorous conceits, and being alone, broke forth into these words. O friendly fortune, if continually hereafter thou furiously frown upon me, yet shall I all the days of my life count myself bound unto thee, for the only pleasure which this day thou hast afforded me, in giving me occasion to talk with her, whose angels voice made such heavenly harmony in my heavy heart, that where before it was plunged in perplexities, it is now placed in felicity: and where before it was oppressed with care, it is now refreshed with comfort. Yea every look of he is able to cure me, if I were in most deep distress of a most dangerous disease: every sweet word proceeding from her sugared lips, is of force to fetch me from death to life. But alas how true do I try that saying, that every commodity hath annexed unto it a discommodity? How doth the remembrance of this joy put me in mind of the grief, which the loss of this delight will procure me & yea it maketh all my senses shake, to think that some other shall enjoy her more worthy of her then myself: and yet who in this court, nay in all Christendom, nay in the whole world, is worthy of her? No, if she never have any, until every way she have one worthy of her, she shall never have any. And shall I then, being but a poor Gentleman, seek to insinuate myself into a place so high? Shall I by my rude attempt purchase at least the displeasure of her friends and parents, and perchance of hers also, whom to displease would be no less offensive unto me then death? Alas, and must love needs be rewarded with hate? must courtesy be countervailed with cruelty? must good will be returned with displeasure? Is it possible that bounty should not abide, where beauty doth abound? and that courtesy should not associate her comeliness? Yes, I am sure at the least she will suffer me to love her, though her young years, and high estate will not suffer her to affect me: and though she will not accept me for an husband, yet I am persuaded she will not reject me for a servant: and though she will not receive my service, yet I doubt but she will affablie take the tendering thereof unto her. And touching her parent's displeasure, what care I to procure the ill will of the whole world, so I may purchase her good liking. Yea, if I should spend the most precious blood in my body, in the pursuit of so peerless a piece, I would count it as well bestowed, as if it were shed in the quarrel of the Gods, thy Prince, or country. For she is the Goddess whom with devotion I will adore: she is the prince, whom with duty I will obey: she is the country in whole cause I will spend my life, living, and all that I have. Neither is there such cause why her friends should much storm at the matter: for my lands and revenues are such, as that they will not suffer me to want any thing pertaining to my estate and degree. Why Alearne a youth like myself, being enamoured with Ardalesia daughter to the mighty Emperor Otho stole her away, and married her: and do I stick to attempt the like with one of far meaner estate, though of far more worthiness? And albeit frowning Fortune tossed him for a while in the tempestuous seas of adversity, yet at the length he arrived at the haven of happy estate, and was reconciled to the good grace of the Emperor again. And though at the first my ship be shaken with angry blasts, yet in time I doubt not but to be safely landed on the shore, and have my share of that which the showers of shrewd fortune shall keep me from. He is not worthy to suck the sweet, who hath not first savoured the sour: And as the beauty of a fair woman, being placed by a foul, blazeth more brightly, so each joy is made more pleasant, by first tasting some sour sops of sorrow. Did not the peril which Leander ventured in the Ocean, and the pain which he took in swimming, make his arrival to the haven of his heavenly Hero more happy and pleasant? yes no doubt of it: for besides the feeling of the present pleasure, the remembrance of the danger past delighteth. Besides that, by how much more a man hazardeth himself for his mistress sake, by so much the more he manifesteth the constancy of his soul, and meriteth solace at her hands the more worthily. This saying also is no less tried then true, that fortune ever favoureth the valiant: & things the more hard, the more haughty, high & heavenly: neither is any thing difficult to be by him accomplished which hardly enterpriseth it. With that he took a Lute in his hand and played a note to a ditty which he sung as followeth. Valentine's Song. I would thou wert not fair, or I were wise, I would thou hadst no face, or I no eyes: I would thou wert not wise, or I not fond, Or thou not free, or I not so in bond. But thou art fair, and I cannot be wise, Thy sunlike face, hath blinded both mine eyes: Thou canst not be but wise, nor I but fond, Nor thou but free, nor I but still in bond. Yet am I wise to think that thou art fair, Mine eyes, their pureness in thy face repair: Nor am I fond, that do thy wisdom see: Nor yet in bond, because that thou art free. Then in thy beauty only make me wise, And in thy face, the Graces guide mine eyes: And in thy wisdom only see me fond, And in thy freedom keep me still in bond. So shalt thou still be fair, and I be wise: Thy face shines still upon my cleared eyes: Thy wisdom only see how I am fond: Thy freedom only keep me still in bond. So would I thou wert fair, and I were wise: So would I thou hadst thy face, and I mine eyes: So would I thou wert wise, and I were fond, And thou wert free, and I were still in bond. With these, and such like sayings, encouraging himself, he purposed to pursue his purpose, and sailed not daily to attend upon his mistress with all duty and diligence, & sought all occasions he could to let her understand his loyal love, and great good will towards her: which she perceiving, disdained not to acknowledge by her amiable and courteous countenance towards him, wherewith he held himself as well satisfied, as if he had been made Monarch of the whole world. And though he were oft determined in words to present his suit unto her, yet when it came to the point he should have spoken, fear of offending her altogether disappointed his purpose, and made him mute in the matter which he minded to utter. But at length perceiving that delay bred danger, for that she had many other suitors, and feeling by experience, that as fire, the more it is kept down, the more it flameth up: so love, the more he sought to suppress him, the more fiery forces within him he expressed: he began to set fear aside, and to force a supply of courage in his faint heart, and seeing his mistress fit in the presence alone, he entered into reasoning with her in this manner. Madam, for that I see you without company, I am the bolder to presume to press in place, whereof though I be altogether unworthy, yet am I willing to supply it: and if my company may content you, as well as your sight satisfieth me, I doubt not but you will accept it in good part: and so much the less I hope my company shall be cumbersome unto you, for that you are busied about nothing whereto my presence may be prejudicial. And verily when I consider the common course of life, which your sweet self, and other maids of your estate lead, me thinks it is altogether like the spending of your time at this present, which is (with your leave be it spoken) idly, unfruitfully, without pleasure, without profit. And if my credit were such with you, to crave belief for that which I shall speak, I would not doubt but to persuade you to another trade of life, more commendable to the world, more honourable amongst all men, and more acceptable in the sight of God. For believe me I pity nothing more than virgins vain pity, who think they merit reward for living chastened, when in deed they deserve blame for spending their time so wastly. Sir (said she) as your company contenteth me well enough, so your talk liketh me but a little: for though I must confess I sit at this present without doing any thing, yet in my fancy it is better to be idle, then ill employed as yourself is now, in reprehending that state of life which excelleth all others, as far as the Sun doth a star, or light darkness: and wherein I mean, for my part, to pass the pilgrimage of this my short life, if either God dispose me not, or my friends force me not to the contrary. God forbid Madam (said he) you should continue your time in any such trifling trade of life, which indeed is to be counted no life at all, as the Grecian Ladies can truly testify, who (as Homer reporteth) reckon their age from the time of their marriage, not from the day of their birth: and if they be demanded how old they be, they begin to number from their marriage, and so answer accordingly: for then only (say they) we begin to live, when we have a house to govern, and may command our children and our servants. Tush (said the Lady) this is but the sentence and proper opinion of our peculiar people, who perchance by nature of their country or otherwise, are more desirous of husbands than other: neither is it any more reason that we should be tied to their example, than they bound to follow our virgin Vestals: or other, who consume the whole course of their life without contaminating their corpse with the company of man. Nay rather (said he) without receiving their perfection from men, according to the opinion of Aristotle. But Madam I did not produce that example as necessary for all to follow, but as profitable to prove and show, what base account they made of virginity, which you so highly esteem of. But to leave particular opinions, and come to general constitutions and customs, I mean both natural, human, and divine laws, and you shall see them all to make against you. And first if you consider natures, which in the doings of creatures without reason are plainly set down, you shall behold no living wight in the world universal, but that so soon as by age they are apt thereto, apply themselves to that life whereby their kind may be conserved, and number increased. Behold the high flying Falcon, which soareth so high in the air, that a man would think she should neither stoop to lure or lust: yet she is no sooner an Entermurer, or at the farthest a white Hawk, but that of her own accord she cometh to the call of the Tersell-gentle her mate. Likewise the Do, which flingeth so freely about the woods, as though she made no account of the male, yet she is no sooner a forressister, but that she seeks the society of the Buck. Yea if it would please your seemly self to enter into the consideration of your own nature, or if your courtesy would deem me worthy to have the examination of your secret thoughts, I doubt not but you would confess yourself to feel a fiery force of that natural inclination which is in other creatures: which being so, you must grant to deal unnaturally in resisting that motion which cannot be ill or idle, because nature hath planted it in you. For God and nature do nothing vainly, or after a vile manner. And in that some do amiss in rebelling against her, their own scrupulous niceness is the cause, when they will impose upon themselves heavier burdens than they are well able to sustain, and refuse those which nature hath appointed them to bear, being indeed but light. What talk you sir (said she) so much of nature, and of creatures without reason, as though we ought to follow either the instinct of the one, or the example of the other. I have been always taught, that reason is the rule whereby our actions ought to be directed, and that we ought to lay before us the deeds of creatures endued with reason to follow and imitate. For if you stick so strictly to the example of brute beasts, you should use the company of women but once or twice at the most in a year, as most of them do with their females, whereto I am sure you would be loath to be tied. Madam (replied he) a Gentlewoman of this city hath already answered this objection for me. Why then (quoth she) will you condemn their doings in some points, and place them for patterns to be practised by other some? Yea why not (said he) otherwise you might generally take exception against the example of men, for that some men in some matters do amiss. The good ever is to be used, and the evil rejected. Doth not every man so soon as his daughter is arrived to ripe years, travail to bestow her in marriage, whereby she may enjoy the fruits of love, and participate with pleasures incident to that estate? whereby they plainly show that the cause why they beget them with pleasure, and bring them up with pain, is to have them enter into that trade of life, wherein not only themselves may live happily, abounding in all pleasure, but also by the fertile fruit of their body make their mortal parents immortal, that when they shall be blasted with age, and withered away, the issue of their seed may begin gréenely to grow, and flourishly to spring, to the great comfort both of father and daughter. For what pleasure the Grandfather taketh in the sporting pastime of his proper daughters pretty children, I think you partly understand: and what delight the mother taketh in the toys of her little son, you soon shall perfectly perceive, if it please you freely to follow the friendly counsel which I frankly pronounce unto you. For do you think, if virginity were of such virtue, that parents would not rather pain themselves to keep their daughters modest maids, than strain themselves and their substance to join them in juno's sacred bond? Yes persuade yourself, if ●our mother were so assured, she would rather lock you up c●ose in her closet, then suffer any to enjoy the sovereign sight of your beauty, or once aspire to your speech, whereby you might be persuaded to some other kind of life. But she experienced by years knoweth what is best for your behoof, and would you should follow her example, and make no conscience to lose that which she herself hath lest, which except she had, we had missed so rare a jewel as your seemly self is, which what a detriment it had been to myself, I dare not say, lest you should count virtue vanity, and truth trifling flattery. But to our purpose, you perceive (as I said) your parents pleased with the access of Gentlemen unto you, whereby you may conceive their mind is you should accept such service as they proffer, and partake with those pleasures which they prefer unto you. Why sir (said she) you altogether mistake the meaning of men in this matter: for when fathers tender marriages to their daughters, it is not for any mind they have to have them married; but only for fear lest they should fall to folly other ways: for knowing the fickle frailty of youth, and our propens●ues to gravity, and weakness, they provide us marriages to prevent mischiefs: and seeing of evils the least is to be chosen, they count wedlock a less evil than the lightness of our life and behaviour. Alas good Madam (said Valentine) why do you so much profane the holy state of Matrimony, as to count it in the number of evils, whereas the Gods themselves have entered into that calling, whereas Princes pleasantly pass their time therein, whereas by it only mankind is preserved, and amiss and love amongst men continued, of the worthiness whereof I am not sufficient to open my lips. Sir (said Fulvia) I speak it not of myself, but according to the opinion of the most wise and learned Philosophers that ever lived, amongst whom one Aminius so much misliked of marriage, that being demanded why he would not marry, answered, because there were so many inconveniences incident to that estate, that the least of them is able to slay a thousand men. Why Madam (replied he) you must consider there is nothing in this mortal life so absolutely good and perfect, but that there be inconveniences as well as commodities thereby incurred: by that reason you may take the Sun out of the world, for that it parcheth the Summer green, and banisheth away the beauty of those that therein blaze their faces. But to leave natural and human laws, and come to divine precepts proceeding from Gods own mouth, doth not God say, It is not good for a man to live alone, and therefore made Eve for an help and comforter? Likewise in divers places of Scripture he doth not only commend marriage unto us, saying, Marriage, and the bed undefiled are honourable, but also commandeth us to it, saying, You shall forsake father and mother, and follow your wives. Why sir (said she) and doth not God say, It is good for a man not to touch a woman? And if thou be unmarried, remain so. But why allege you not this text, It is better to marry then to burn? whereby is plainly showed, that marriage is but a mean medicine for the burning in concupiscence and lust. But because we entered into these mysteries, I could refer you to an history, where it is reported that in heaven Virgins chiefly serve God, and set forth his glory. And Mahomet the great Turk, when he was in heaven, said, he saw there Virgins, who if they issued from heaven would lighten the whole world with their brightness, and if they chanced to spit into the sea, they would make the whole water as sweet as honey: but here is no mention of married folks. Belike (said he) those Virgins are like yourself, and then no marvel though God be delighted with the sight of them, which perchance is the cause he hath them in heaven to attend upon him, as first Hebe and after Ganymedes did upon jupiter. But generally of women, the histories record, that by bringing forth of children they shall be honoured, and enjoy a place in heaven, which must be by marriage, if honestly. But because I am persuaded that it is only for argument sake that you disallow marriage, and that you pretend otherwise in words, than you intent to do in works, I am content to give you the honour of the field, and thus far to yeels my consent to your opinion, that virginity considered of it own nature, simply without circumstance is better than matrimony: but because the one is full of peril, the other fraught with pleasure: the one full of jeopardy, the other full of security: the one as rare as the black swan, the other as common as the black crow: of good things, I think the more common, the more commendable. I (said she) I have gotten any conquest thereby, I thank mine own cause, not your courtesy, who yields when you are able to stand no longer in defence. Nay Madam say not so (quoth he) for in that very yielding to your op●●●on, 〈◊〉 marriage better than virginity, for that it is more common: neither would I have you turn my silence 〈◊〉 this matter in lack of knowledge, or reprehend me, if I spare to enforce further proof in a matter already sufficiently proo●ed: no more than you would rebuke the spaniel, which ceaseth to hunt, when he seeth the hawk seized on the partridge. But you may marvel madam what is the cause that maketh me persuade you thus earnestly to marriage, which as mine own unworthiness willeth me to hide, so your incomparable courtesy en●●rageth me to disclose, which maketh▪ me think that it is no small cause which can make you greatly offended with him, who beareth you great good will, and that what suit soever I shall prefer unto you, you will either grant it, or forgive it: pardon, or pity it. Therefore may it please you to understand, that since, not long since. I took large view of your virtue, and beauty, my heart hath been so inflamed with the bright beams thereof, that nothing is able to quench it, but the water which floweth from the fountain that first infected me: and if pity may so much prevail with you, as to accept me, I dare not say for your husband, but for your slave and servant: assure yourself, there shall no doubt of danger drive me from my duty towards you, neither shall any Lady whatsoever have more cause to rejoice in the choice of her servant, then shall yourself, for that I will account my life no longer pleasant unto me, than it shall be employed in your service. Fulvia dying her little cheeks with vermilion red, and casting her eyes on the ground, gave him this answer. As I am to yield you thanks for your good will, so am I not to afford consent to your request: for that I neither mind to marry, nor think myself worthy to retain such a servant. But if I were d●●p●sed to receive you any way, I think the best manner mean enough for your worthiness. Immediately hereupon there came company unto them, which made them break off their talk, and Fulvia being got into her chamber▪ began to think on the suit made unto her by Valentine: and by this time Cupid had so cunningly carved and engraved the idol of his person and behaviour in her heart, that she thought him worthy of a far more excellent wife than herself: and persuading herself by his words and looks, that his love was loyal without lust: true without trifling, and faithful without feigning, she determined to accept it, if her parents would give thereto their consent. Now Valentine nothing dismayed with her former denial, for that it had a courteous close, so soon as opportunity served, set on her again in this sort. Now Madam you have considered my case at leisure, I trust it will stand with your good pleasure to make me a more comfortable answer. I beseech you sir (said she) rest satisfied with my former resolution, for other as yet I can make you none. Alas Madam (quoth he) the extremity of my passion will not suffer long prolonging of remorse, wherefore I humbly entreat you, presently to pass your sentence either of bale or bliss, of salvation or damnation, of life or death: or if the heavens have conspired my confusion, and that you mean rigorously to reject my good will, I mean not long to remain alive to trouble you with any tedious suit: for I account it as good reason to honour you with the sacrifice of my death, as I have thought it convenient to bestow upon you the service of my life. Alas (quoth she) this jesting is nothing joyful unto me, and I pray you use no more of it, for the remembrance of that which you utter in sport, maketh me feel the force thereof in good earnest: for a thousand deaths at once cannot be so dreadful unto me, as once to think I live to procure the death of any such as you are. If (said he) you count my words sport, jest, and dalliance, assure yourself it is sport without pleasure: jest without comfort: and dalliance without delight, as tract of time shall truly manifest. But if you love not to hear of my death, why like you not to give me life? which you may do only by consent of your good will. Why sir (quoth she) you know my consent consisteth not in myself but in my parents, to whom I owe both duty and honour, therefore first it behoveth you to demand their consent. Why Madam (quoth he) shall I make more account of the meaner parts then of the head, you are the chief in this election, and therefore let me receive one good word of your good will, and then let heaven and earth do their worst. It is not the coin, countenance or credit of your parents that I pursue: for to purchase such a treasure as is your good will, I could be content all the days of my life to be obnoxious unto all calamities, so that you be maintained according to your desire and worthiness. Well (said she) seeing I am the only mark at which you shoot, assay by all means to get my friends good liking, and if you level any thing strait, me you shall not miss. Valentine upon this procured the King's letters (for in his favour he was highly interested) to her father in this behalf, who having perused them, said, he trusted the King would give him leave to dispose of his own according to his pleasure, and that his daughter was too near unto him, to see her cast away upon one, who for lack of years wanted wisdom to govern her, and for lack of lands, living to maintain her. And calling his daughter before him, he began to expostulate with her in this sort. Daughter, I ever heretofore thought you would have been a solace and comfort to my old years, and the prolonger of my life, but now I see you will increase my hoa●●e hairs, and be the hastner of my death. Doth the tender care, the careful charge, and chargeable cost which I have ever used in bringing you up, deserve this at your hands, that you should pass a grant of your good will in marriage without my consent? Is the piety towards your parents, and the duty of a daughter towards her father, so utterly forgotten, that you will prefer the love of an unthrift, before my displeasure; and to please him care not to offend your parents, who travail to bestow you upon one worthy your estate and ours? No, never think Valentine shall enjoy you with my good will, and never take me for your father, if you grant him your assent thereto. Fulvia hearing this cruel conclusion of her father Hermodius, with bashful countenance and trembling tongue framed her answer in this form. I beseech you good father not to think me so graceless a child, as once to imagine, much less to do any thing which may heap your heaviness, or hasten your death, the least of which two, would be more bitter unto me then death. For if it please you to understand, I have not granted my good will to any, unless yours be thereto gotten. Neither have I as you see preferred the love of an unthrift before your displeasure. But as I cannot let that noble Gentleman Valentine to love me, so can I not, to confess the truth, but love him, mary in heart only, for my body as you gave it me, so shall you have the disposing of it. And as I faithfully promise you by the love which of duty I owe you, that I will never have any husband without your approbation, so I humbly beg of you, for the affection which by nature you bear me, that you will never force me to any without my good liking. For if for the transitory life you have given me, you make me pay so dearly, as to be linked with one against my will, I must needs count it a hard pennyworth, and well may I wish that never I had been borne. I beseech you (Sir) consider the inconveniences always incident to those marriages, where there is more respect of money, then of the man: of honours, then of honesty: of goods, then of affection of the parties each to other. What strife, what jars, what debate at bed, and at board, at home, and abroad, about this, about that, never quietness with contentation, never merry countenance without countersaiting, never loving deeds without dissimulation? And whence, but from this rotten root springeth so many dishonest women, so many evil living men? Is it not the loathing of never liked lips, that maketh women stray from their husbands, to strangers? And is it not either the difference of years, or the diversity of manners, or disagreement of natures, that maketh the husband forsake the wife, and follow other women? And where are any of these differences, or inequallities between the married, but where the force of friends, not liberty of love, linketh them together. These things by your wisdom considered, I trust as you restrain me from one whom I love, so you will not constrain me to any whom I love not: in so doing doubt not but you shall find in me modesty meet● for a maid, virtue fit for a virgin, duty beseeming a daughter, and obedience becoming a child. Her father having mildly heard her modest talk, told her, he meant not to force her to any, but would provide her a husband, whom he doubled not should like her better every way than Valentine did, and therefore willed her to race out of her mind the liking which she had conceived of him: and so gave her leave to depart. And being in her Chamber, she began to devise all the means she could to ●oose out of her heart the love which she bore unto Valentine, and revoked to her memory her father's displeasure, and her own preferment, with many other discommodities that way arising. But nothing prevailed, for as the bird caught in sin, the Dear in a soil, the more they strive, the faster they stick, so the more diligently she laboured to get out of the labyrinth of fancy, the more doubtfully was she therein infricated: and as ●ne climbing on high, his feet fasting, and he in danger to fall, more firmly fasteneth his hold then before he did: so Love, seeing himself ready to be dislodged out of her breast took such sure hold, and fortified himself so strongly within her, that no vigour was of force sufficient to fetch him from thence. Which the good Gentlewoman perceiving, thought best for her case and quiet, to yield the summons of love, to be disposed at his pleasure, wherein no doubt she had reason. For as the swift running stream if it be not stopped runneth smoothly and without noise, but if there be any dam or lo●ke made to stay the course thereof, it rageth, and waxeth, and, swelleth above the banks, so Love, if we obey his lore, and yield unto his sovereignty: dealeth with us gently, and like a loving Lord reigneth over us, but if we withstand his ●or●e, and seek to stay the passage of his power, he rageth over us like a cruel tyrant. Which this Gentlewoman (as I said) perceiving, without any more resistance determined in her heart to love Valentine only and ever. Now Valentine notwithstanding the angry look of the father, the frowning face of the mother, and the strange counterfeit countenance of the daughter, followed his suit so effectually, used such apt persuasions to the maid, and in short time insinuated himself so far into her familiarity, that her parents lowered not so fast, but she alured as much, and thought she received no other contentation in the whole world but in his company, which her parents perceiving, and besides dreading the King's displeasure, thought as good by their consent to let them go together, as by severity to keep th●m asunder, whom the Gods seemed to join together: and so much the rather they were induced thereto, for that they saw their daughter so affected to Valentine, that the hearing of any other husband was hateful, and unto her hurtful. And hereupon the marriage was concluded, and consummated, and to this bargain only the fancy of Valentine forced him. Now behold the nature and condition of fortune: for she having saived these men (namely Valentine, and the two rogues) a long while with roses, 〈◊〉 now to whip them with nettles, and having presented them with the brightness of her favours, now she crossed them with many frowns. They that did think themselves the most fortunate amongst men, may now account themselves the most distressed of all men. For they having carelessly floated in the seas o● voloptuousnes, and recklessly reigned in the lazy seas of lawless liberty, where they fed on nought but looseness and liceutiousnes, whereby most prompt to wickedness, were wrapped in the performance of most desperate designments. For one of them named Delfridus was by the furies of hell so set on fire in libidinous lust towards his mistress Fulvia, that he sought all the means possible to win her to his wicked will, not much unlike Maechander above mentioned: the other called Insolainder, was so instigated on with arrogancy, that he daily aucupated after the destruction of him who was the cause of his elevation unto prosperity, utterly casting behind them the remembrance of their former state and condition. This Insolainder was so blinded with promotion, that upon hope of a little commodity purchased by his masters death, sought as (I said) by all means to work his ruin: which being perceived (for God will not suffer such wild attempts to be practised) Valentine prosecuted the matter so earnestly against him, that he was thrown into prison, where for shame of his deed, and dread of deserved punishment, he did himself desperately to death. Now Delfridus seeing his mistress too firmly fortified in virtue to be by consent vanquished by villainy, determined also by death to remove the obstacle. And as nothing is so impossible which frantic fury will not enterprise, nothing so shameful which unbridled desire will not undertake, nothing so false which fleshly filthiness will not forge, so to bring his purpose to pass, as Valentine on a time (in ill time) passed through a blind lane of the city, he throwded himself in a corner, and as he came by, shot him through with a Pistol, which done, he forthwith repaired home, making grievous lamentation (but in a counterfeit manner) for the cruel murder of his most loving and affectionate master as he termed him. fulvia hearing of this unnatural deed, and by circumstances knowing Delfridus to be the author thereof, tearing her hair, scratching her face, and beating her body against the ground, so soon as the floods of tears had flown so long that the fountain was dry, so that her speech might have passage which before the tears stopped, she began to cry out in this careful manner. O God, what injustice is this, to suffer the earth to remain polluted with the broud of innocents? Didst thou curse Cain for killing his brother Abel? and wilt thou not crucify Delfridus for slaying Valentine? Is thy heart now hardened that thou wilt not, or are thy hands now weakened that thou canst not preserve thy servants from the slaves of Satan? If there be no safety in innocency, wherein shall we repose ourselves? If thou be not our protector, who shall defend us? If the wicked vanquish the virtuous, who shall set forth thy honour and glory? or who will so much as once call upon thy name? But what mean I wretched wight to exclaim against God as the author of my evil, whereas it is only myself that am guilty of my husband's death? It is I that pampered up my beauty, to make it glister in the sight of every gazing eye, in the thriftless thread whereof this miscreant was entangled, that to unwind himself thereout, ●ée hath wrought all this mischief. It is I that would not detect his doings to the view of the world, whereby the peril which hung over my husband's head might have be ●e prevented. And seeing I have been the cause of his death, shall I (being a murderer) remain alive? Did 〈◊〉 seeing the dead carcase of her husband C●i● cast on shore, willingly cast herself into the Sea ●o accompany his death? and shall I see my sweet belou●d true Valentine●laine ●laine, and not drink of the same cup? Did true 〈◊〉 gore he gorgeous body with the same sword wherewith princely Pyramus had prick● himself to the heart? and are not my hands strong enough to do the like? Did julietta die upon the corpse of her Romeo, and shall my body remains on earth, Valentine being buried? No gentle death come with thy direful dart, and pierce my painful soul, and with one death rid me out of a thousand at once. For what thought do I think on my Valentine, which doth not procure me double death? What thing do I see belonging to him, which is not a treble torment unto me? But it is cowardliness to wish for death, and courage valiantly to take it. Yes I can and will bestow my life for my Valentines sweet sake. But O God, shall the varlet remain alive to triumph in his treachery, and vaunt in his villainy? Shall I not lo his fatal day before my final end? It is his blood that will be a most sweet sacrifice to the ghost of my Valentine: and then can I end my life contentedly, when I have offered up this acceptable sacrifice. And until such time as I have opportunity hereto, I will prolong my woeful d●yes in direful grief, and only the hope of revenge shall heavily hold my loathsome life and sorrowful ●oule together. For other can●● why I should desire life I have not, for that I am utterly deprived of all joys of life. For as the bird that is bruised with some blow lieth aloft in the ●eaues, and hears his fellows sing, and is not able to utter one warbling note out of his mournful voice, but rather hates the harmony which other birds do make, so I, my heart being broken, sit solitary alone, and see some h●ng about their husband's necks, some closely clip them in their arms, some trifle with them, some talk with them, all which redoab●● my pain, to think myself destitute of those pleasures: yea, to a wretched wounded heart that dwells in dole, every pleasant sight turns to bitter anguish, and the only object which shall ever content my eyes, shall be the destruction of that judas which hath brought me to this desolation. Now Delfridus thinking that time had taken away her ●eares and sorrow, and supposing that neither she, or any other had suspected him for the murder of Valentine, began to enter into she lifts of lu●● again, and with a new encounter of incontinency to set upon her. But she so much abhorred him, that if she had but heard his name, it caused her nature to fail in her, and all her senses to faint: so that when he saw no possibility to impel her to impiety, he meant to solicit her in the way of marriage, and caused her near kinsfolks and friends to move his suit unto her (for he was a man well countenanced of many) who laboured very earnestly in the matter, and were so importunate upon her, that no answer would satisfy them. Now Fulvia seeing she could not be rid of her friends, and foreseeing that by this means she might be freed from her enemy, agreed to take him to husband. And the day of solemnizing the marriage being come, they went together to the temple of Diana, where all things according to custom being consummated, the Bridewife (as the use was) drank to her husband in wine as he thought, but indeed in poison which she had provided of purpose: and when she saw he had drunk up his death, she said unto him, Go now, and in steed of thy marriage bed get thee a grave, for thy marriage is turned to murder, a punishment just for thy outrageous lost, and merciless designment: for vengeance, asketh vengeance, and blood, blood, and they that sow slaughter, shall be sure to reap rheum and destruction. Now Delfridus hearing these words, and feeling the force of the poison to work within him, assayed all the remedies he could to heal himself, but all in vain. Fulvia also feeling the poison to prevail within her, fell upon her knees before the altar of Diana uttering these words. O Goddess, thou ●●owest how, since the death of my sweet husband, this life h●●h been most loathsome and sour unto me, and that the only offering up of this sacrifice hath kept me from him, which now in thy presence being performed, I think myself to have satisfied my duty, and purchased thereby a passport to pass to the habitation and paradise where my husband hath his dwelling. Immediately upon this, so well as she could, she crawled home to her house, where she was no sooner, but tidings were brought her that Delfridus was dead, wherewith with great joy she cast herself down upon her bed, and called her little son which she had by Valentine, whom blessing and bussing, said. Alas pretty imp, who shall now defend thee from thy ●oes, who shall redress thy wrongs? Thy father is gone, thy mother is departing, and thou poor soul must abide behind, to endure the brunt and bitter blasts of this wretched world. Ah if the love which I bore my husband had not been exceeding great, nature would have caused me to have some care of thee, and for thy sake to have suffered myself sometime longer to live: but now as I have showed myself a loving wife, so have I scarce showed myself a natural mother. But alas it was reason I should pre●er him before thee, who was the author of thee, and who blessed me with thee. Well I see now my time is come, my tongue begins to ●aile, come dear child and take thy last Congee of thy dying mother: God shield thee from shame: God preserve thee from peril: God send thee more prosperous fortune then have had thy poor parents. And thus farewell my fruit, farewell my flesh, farewell sweet babe. And welcome my Valentine, whom I see in the Skies ready to receive me And so in sorrow and joy she gave up the ghost. Thus was the end of Valentine●atally ●atally no doubt sent, thus was the end of the beggars miserably accomplished. Now I would wish you blazing stars, which stand upon your chastity, to take light at this lot, to take heed by this harm▪ you ●ée the husband slain, the lecher poisoned, the wire dead, the friends comfortless, the child parentlesse. And can the preservation of one simple woman's chastity countervail all these confusions, had not the loss of it been less then of her life? But it is naturally incident to women to enter into extremities, they are too loving or too loathing: too courteous or too coy: too willing or too wilful: too merciful▪ or too merciless: too forward, or ●oo froward: too friendly, or too fiendly: the mean they always slenderly account of: otherwise she might with (reason, sooner than outrage) have suppressed his rage: she might with some continent courtesy have cooled his incontinent desires: and better it had been to have drawn him on with delays, then to have driven him into such despair: and to have brought him into some error, then into such fear to have pre●●pated him. But howsoever my words run, I would not you should take them altogether to tend to her dispraise: for as I must condemn her cruelty, so can I not but commend her constancy, and think her worthy to be compared to Lucrece, Penelope, or what woman soever that ever had any pre-eminence of praise for her virtue. And I would wish my gallant youths, which delight to gaze on every beautiful glass, and to have an oar stirring in every lovely boat, not to row past their reach: not to fire their fancies upon impossibilities: not to suffer themselves to be blasted with the beams of beauty, or scorched with the lightning of loving looks: such affection towards the married is ever without love: such fire is without fear: such suits are without shame: such cankers, if they be not at the beginning cured, grow to the confusion of the whole body. Therefore gentlewoman, I leave it to your judgements, to give sentence, whether is more worthy of reprehension he or she. He had the law of love on his side, she the law of men, and of marriage on her part: love led him which the Gods themselves cannot resist: chastity guided her which the Goddesses themselves have lost: he killed him whom he counted his enemy: she slew him whom she knew her friend: she with reason might have prevented great mischiefs, his wings were too much limed with lust, to flee forth of his folly. FINIS.