THE SECOND PART OF THE HISTORY, CALLED THE NATURE OF A WOMAN: Containing the end of the strife betwixt Perseus and Theseus. Compiled by C. M.  
AT LONDON, Printed by the Widow Orwin for Clement Knight, and are to be sold at his shop at the little North-door of S. Paul's Church. 1596.   

To the courteous and friendly Reader.  
AS it fares in the estate of all things that are so changed from their first, as if the Fathers of the first world lived to revise this last, they should hardly learn to know that wherein then they lived. So fares it in this use of these trivial toys, which men were wont to call by the names of some personages, whose lives or deaths were deciphered therein: but now framing their fancies to a new fashion, they will needs have them named according to their natures, Sicut trahit sua quemque voluntas. And for myself was loath to break square, I have entitled this History, The nature of a Woman: which though therein it answer not every man's private expectation in what they mean, yet could not I fit it better to the matter, containing indeed nothing but the envious practices of two wicked women: wherein if any take offence, let him for this time wink at my fault, as rather affecting to frame myself to the new fashion, that it should be accounted new stuff, then following the old be esteemed as too stolen.  
Yours. C. M.   
The second part of the History, called the nature of a Woman: containing the travail of Perseus, after he had fled from his Army.  

CHAP. 1.  
AFter that the unconstant state of never stayed fortune, had thrown down these unfortunate people from the height of those heavenvly pleasures (which before they enjoyed in prosperity) down even to the lowest degree, of black bottomless adversity. First, in rooting out the hope of their succeeding remembrance, likely to live long after they should die, in their happy children. Then, with the eating canker of all undoing envy, severing asunder by their wars their well grounded commonwealth, which they so long had governed in peace. And lastly, laying upon themselves, that which their dissension had overloaded their poor countrymen withal, the hard sentence of exiles extremity, more grievous than the coldest kind of bitter pinching poverty; a more dismal divorsive sentence, then is the separation of a secure soul from an earthly blessed body: for that the one ends all adversity, the other gins their after misery: the one changes the stinking state of this loathsome life into the never dying joys of heavenly felicity: but the other with a countermanding course pulls back the forward fortune of men's still mounting minds, whom nature feeds with the hope of more and more happy blessings, into the despairing gulf of all undoing extremity. This is the bridle where with foul fortune binds in the strong headed state of many mighty Monarchies, when neither love of virtue, nor hate of vice, fear of their friends ill, nor care of their own weal, plagues at home, nor other punishment abroad, can pull back to behold the wicked ways they have over walked: then suffers she them to persever in their peevish penance meriting purpose, till unawares they be assailed with the envious encounters of unlooked for exile, where they must wear out their age with sorrow, whose youth was wasted in all joy, and learn to eat the bitter bread of banishment abroad, that could not satisfy themselves with the abundant pleasures of their country's content at home, and let their death conquering deeds die in desolation, which should after death eternize their everliving names, to their yet unthought of generation, where no pen shall paint out their perfect picture, nor any tongue shall tell their true stories: but die like the soul (wanting bodies) of brutish beasts; the process of whose forespent life, no man's memories admits.  
Such was the harmful hap of these now hopeless Kings, who whilst with the sunshine of their lucky love, they blessed the furthest borders of this their then thrice renowned regiment, made fortune proud that it lay in her power to advance them. But now they unadvisedly have broke down the force of their brotherly affections, entering as nakedly into woe, as whilom when they were borne into the world, 'gins like a guideles ship to turn with every tossing sea, that were wont to stand steady like two sturdy rocks, till at length severed asunder to go seek their several punishment. Perseus that for his safeguard had ta'en his way to the desert hills, that with their height compasses that country, wasting many a weary day in the sad remembrance of his shipwreck, 'gins now by the sour sauce of fortune's adversity, judge with himself the pleasure of his former prosperity: and like a man that settled with himself to try the hardest brunts of this envious ill luck, now in stead of comfortable company, to whom he might complain his case, expels sorrow with sorrow, and quench the fire of his inward foggy sighs, by uttering to the ears of those unacquainted echoes, the harsh history of his ill ending days, delighting in stead of the reply of a favourable friend, to hear the aggravating echo resounding from the craggy caves of those hollow hills, the sorrowful sound of woe ending words. Whereat the poor soul sat down and sighed, till the overcharged burden of his heart forcibly breaking out in abundance of crystal tears, did with satiety of sorrow make show of ease to evil, which indeed had no end: whose daily plaints moved with their mo●es, as the Thracian with his music the hard and ruinous rocks, that underpropped the skie-braving tops of those mighty mountains, to melt their marble sides into the show of melting tears, plaining of him that could not pity himself, and in stead of helping hands moves their senseless heads, as willing (though wanting power) to ease his agony. Many days did he spend in this careful course, cutting out in capital letters upon the barks of those adjoining trees, the dismal discourse of this his pitiful plight, writing the records of his woes in the stony tables of hard marble rocks, that might incite the eyes of every travailer to tears, and pity his woes, whose wrack they could not prevent. At last, when even weary with weeping, though still full of tears, as is the nature of man greedy of novelties, gins with himself devise how in despite of that distress, he might invent some newfound form to lament, whose sorrows might satisfy the effect of his intent, and change the outward semblance of his sorrowful show: and sitting him sadly down by a bubbling spring, wherein he might see the reflex of his sorrowful face, he thus gins in a song, to brave the hard brunts of his hapless heart, that still afforded new fuel for his sorrows fire, fresh springs of tears for his watery eyes, and still replying words for his tragic tattling tongue.  

Ye merry Muses whose delightful wits,  
Busied in framing several pleasing songs,  
Come here and dwell by me where sorrow sits,  
Studying what tunes to woeful strains belongs:  
I'll fit what ever instrument they bring,  
And by my voice teach them how they shall sing.   

The Base a tragic touch of my heart strings:  
The Tenor troubled sighs that sadly grows:  
Next that, my words where lively sorrow sings:  
Then doleful thoughts from whence despair still goes:  
And last in consort shall my eyelids go.  
Whence tears destils like little worlds of woe.    

The manner how he met with his son, who was supposed to be slain, and what passed betwixt them two. CHAP. 2.  
AS thus he sat singing to himself, (for save himself there was none to rue with remorse the pitiful tale he so dolefully told) suddenly he might espy out of the thicks of a neighbouring wood, that grew up in the bosom of a fair forest, that was round about environed with a circle of mighty mountains, like the form of an artificial Theatre) whence from every several side the idle beholders sits, and sees the art of imitating actors) a big boned man, whose sight was somewhat displeasing to him at the first: for that such is the composition of a melancholy complexion, as that fills the mind with a thousand several sorts of vain suppositions: whereon the more he thinks, the more he findeth himself to fall short from his thought: and yet wanting indeed what he supposes to himself, and desires that he had, he contents himself to think that he were, that he vainly supposes he is: and so oftentimes expelling the substance of sorrow with the bare imagination of better fortune, he is as loath to break his conceit, as a king to forego his Crown. Yet at the length, seeing the man to frame his journey to the place where himself then solitarily sat, gins steadfastly to look upon his limbs, to see how nature did differ in herself, in distinguishing the shapes of savage satires, borne in the bare bosom of unknown plains, and civil subjects framed in the pampering palaces of courtly Kings, which he found not so far off, as he supposed he saw: for the nearer he drew, the fairer was his show. Naked he was, save that for himself he had framed an unorderly coat of beasts skins, that covered those secrets which savage creatures abhors to see: his hair for want of curious koming, hung long dishivered about his head, naturally curled in more cunning knots, then imitating arts, arms other men withal, whose sable colour played with the glorious beams of the all guilding Sun, as when he rises from his watery couch he guilds the Eastern seas with deceiving shows. In his face had nature cunningly combined two contrary shows in one self same subject love and fear, smiling as smoothly on his friends, as amorous Adonis on his vain enticing Venus, and frowning as fiercely on his enemies, as mighty Mars on his feare-falling foes. Beauty had builded up her bower, and in pride plumed her feathers in his face: but that for want of a sunne-shadowing vail, her varnish was somewhat decayed. Young and lusty was all his limbs, strong in the outward show of constitution, & in his every part dwelled all parts of peerless perfection, which drew the aged King into a wonder, that those foul unpeopled fields should afford such fair framed forms. On the other side, the savage man (who till that time had not been acquainted with such company, nor before, that he could remember did ever see any one like himself) makes more haste unto him then before it should seem he intended. This man was Adrianus, son to this forenamed Perseus, of whom we told you in the other part of this history, that in his infancy he was by his wicked working Aunt sent forth into those forests, with an intent to be betrayed to death: who by the unnatural love of a Lioness, had been all this while brought up in that desert, ignorant what he was, because he wanted those ordinary directions to tell him the truth: but that the instinct of nature had persuaded him there were other creatures, than those ordinary company wherewith he daily dwelled, from whom he must naturally descend: for that he seeing in the common course of natural increase every beast bring forth his like, it powerfully persuaded him there were comely creatures like himself, though it never till then was his luck to see them: and glad in himself that he had at last won what he long had wished, he made great haste to climb up the weary way, cut off the side of a hill to get up to the place where he might see him sit: to whom when at last he came, looking steadfastly in his face, pausing long before his speech, as unacquainted with cunning salutations, wherewith commonly men curiously use to resalute one another, 'gins with wild, and yet witty words, rudely, and yet rarely in his unacquainted kind demand what he was, that had hit upon that plain, in which place in twenty long years (for that space had he there spent) never save himself any such creature came. To whom this cursed king, after he had thoroughly viewed his perfect proportion, wondering that so beautiful a body, adorned with so pregnant a wit, should spring from those unfurnished fields: for as the Diamond that obscured in an uneven rock, through the thick slough of many slimy shadows shows as it is what it should be: Roses through transparent lawn sets out their sweet substance by their fair shows: piercing stars though obscured oft with the covert of some over-shadowing cloud, yet through those shadows seems no less themselves: so fared in the forlorn state of this yet wild man, in whose face was engraven the characters of far fairer fortune, then is found in such desolate dwellings, whose words though wanting that flattering form wherewith other men use to paint their speeches withal, yet with more discretion did they proceed from this untutered truant, then usually we see from many of our best brought up scholars: for in him was the picture of a perfect man, his body not bolstered with the apish trims of conceited attire, his mind not nuzzled up in the slavish shadow of vain and fruitless folly, his tongue had not tasted of that enticing stream that tips with several tunes the state of sundry tongues, turning them from the mould wherein nature first had made them to a new form, wherein art will needs fashion them, as some for fear, & other for falsehood to flatter: some for bribes with bitter words to betray, and other for folly to say and gainsay: some with fair fawning words to undermine their friends, and others with Sinon's subtlety to outreach their foes: some with tattling tales to tell the surest secrets of their firmest friends, and others with evil endeavours to devise slanderous speeches to spiteful ends. What should we say on these sorts that dims my mind, more with multitudes than the several stars in a winter's frosty night dazzles the eyes with their numbers, passes the sands on the shore, the drops in the sea, the several pebbles in a shower of hail, or the infinite abundance of several grains ripe Autumn reaps from the earth's fair face. To be short, there was perfection of body without the pampering of pride, virtue of mind without the variety of misleading manners, a true telling tongue that never tasted of a trifling tale: so here was deciphered the difference betwixt the intent of nature in our first creation, and the event of use in our education: for that the one first forms all things to the best, the other in the end frames them commonly to the worst.  
Well, after these two had with such greetings saluted one another, as beseemed the melancholy disposition of the one, and the rude bringing up of the other, they with friendly courtesy company together, where the savage man first gins earnestly to ask of the others estate: which the king fearfully feigned to be but mean, and that he having trod the tract of an almost unworn way, had by hard hap hit upon that place: and being ignorant what way to escape, had there long lingered, as is the common use of such distressed men, carefully considering with himself what way were best to work his own release from that waste way wanting wilderness. To whom the savage man 'gan thus answer. I that know not from whence thou camest, am far unable to direct thee whither thou shouldst back again go, and save myself lives there none here like to thee. Twenty fair Summers flowers have I seen fade in these fields, & sustained the stubborn brunts of as many winter blasts, seen the several shapes of sundry beasts, and marked their manners in their several kinds, how the stately Lion proudly commands the other poor crouching creatures, and they in their kind dutifully demean themselves to his sovereignty: mine ears have heard the several sounds of their sundry voices, but could not distinguish them. Oft have I spoke to the cruel beasts, thinking they could skill of my words: but they all rudely runs away without answering again: then fearing lest that threatening words had with fear forced their flight, 'gan I with submiss entreaties to crave their companies: but that as did the first perished without hope, and left me still to mine ill hap, which oft urged me to consider with myself what myself might be, differing in making, disagreeing in manners, and failing of every means that I made for my further instruction. No place is here that I have not often sought, to see of whom I might issue: for that thus much hath nature taught me, that needs I must come from a like kind as do all creatures else. Little I remember myself as I have seen the young whelps of these careless creatures that possess these plains, and by the process of time am by degrees grown to this state, wherein now thou seest I stand. And thus with a long discourse 'gins he debate unto him, how from his infancy to that age, he had lived in those unpeopled lawns. At last, when they with much interrogatory talk had passed away a long summer's day, and that now the shadow of the silent night 'gan summon every creature to their quiet rest, the savage man loath to leave his new found companion alone, to spend the solitary night in that uncomfortable case, persuades him to accompany him down into the bottom of a declining valley, that a far off he showed him: who for that he had marked the trueth-shewing tales of his former talk, and being comforted by his well-wishing words, not to fear the furious onsets of outrageous beasts: for that such was his acquaintance amongst the unreasonable rulers of that foretold forest, as that like the quiet citizen within the peaceful walls of his house, is in the stealing silence of the quiet night (by the watchful means of a well meriting Magistrate) defended from the forcible invasions of ill meaning enemies: so he in his quiet Cave securely sleeps, little fearing the fury of these bold beasts, in whose company he had always conversed. At last, won with the words of this fair foretelling friend, the king weary with solitary sitting there alone, and willing also to ease his head of those cruel cares that solitary discontent had clogged him withal, he willingly condescends to the others wish. These two travailing thus together, at the last comes down again into the bottom of the plain, where (for it was now almost night) were assembled divers sorts of sundry wild beasts ready addressed to go seek their prey: amongst whom when they came, as doth the silly sheep to their acquainted shepherd, gently give him way to travail where ever he will: so fares it with these two, that at their pleasure trace these deserts up and down through many dangerous dark shades, that overspreads the hidden caves of sundry subtle devouring beasts. At last they came down into a long valley, where out of the side of a rocky cliff was naturally hewed a deep hollow Cave, into which was a conveyance of light through the cleft of a rock that over-roofed this house: where the wild man not used with curious welcomes to entertain any such guests, 'gins plainly perform the duty of a wellmeaning man, telling him that his good will wished him better than his power was able to perform.  
Not long had these two sitten alone in this loathsome beastly den, ere there comes in a bloody mouthed Lioness, bearing in her tearing teeth the quarter of a new killed Kid. This was that Lioness that in the former part of this history we told you of found this young prince, desolately forsaken in the desert, whom she in his infancy carefully brought up, nursing him with that milk wherewith she should have sustained her young ones, till the ripeness of years had strengthened his stomach, and made him now able with use to feed on raw flesh with those ravenous beasts: for whose provision this careful nurse had provided that silly supper: who coming to her den, and finding there unaccustomed company, 'gins sternly to stare in his face, as though she meant to prosecute her angry countenance, and terribly tear him in pieces with her unmerciful claws: till when she saw the savage man (that had for his better safeguard brought him down into the depth of that dungeon) friendly embrace him in his arms, as though thereby he meant to rescue him from all ensuing harms: then 'gins she turn her frowning countenance to fawning compassion, her terrible threats to a tractable truce, kindly with her dumb demeanour (such as nature hath furnished these reasonles creatures withal) entertains this travailer, licking kindly his hands, which otherwise she could not kiss, softly touching him with her hard talens as loath to hurt him ●ow, whom before she intended to harm. Thus with what courtesy their unkindly cottage did afford, do they entertain this their new comed companion: who not used to eat such undressed dishes, as their hungry stomachs gently digested, was content that night to live only with looking on their kind of life, still thinking to himself, what and how great was his own fall, that whilom being the commander of so many men, was now thus at the command of one silly beast. But for that necessity's extremity is comprehended within no bounds of civility, as also because he feared if he should again fall into his old frantic fury, it would alter the minds of these kindly using creatures to the execution of some other act: force of the one, and fear of the other, so bridled his boundless grief, that perforce he must needs refrain from shedding those mercie-moving tears, which for all that he was scarce able to detain. At last, after the many terrors of that tedious night, 'gins the golden Sun, by the forerunners of his fiery car, tell to the world the gladsome approach of his coming, when as Aurora 'gins with her searching show enter through the close crannies of that clifted rock: at whose approach wakens this savage man from his unnatural nurse, and greeting his guest with such salutations, as then for want of better served their turns, he leads him from thence down lower to the side of a fair fountain, that issued from the root of a crystal rock, whose water clearer than the crystal from whence it came, revives the dead senses of drooping beholders to look upon the swift stream, that with his bubbling melody (far passing the murmuring musics of Aganippus wells, that waters the Arcadian meads) were able to draw the floating Dolphins from the watery bosom of the sea, to stand amazed at their music, as whilom they did at the well tuned strings of sweet Orion's harp, when from the cruel means of massacring mariners, they surely shielded him to the safe shore. There these two sits them down to wash their weary bodies in that purifying spring, where the savage man still urging this unfortunate King further to relate the manner of his life. At last, whether urged by inward grief, that most delighteth in despairing itself, or forced thereunto by the persuasions of this his savage son, 'gins at last to declare the whole story of his ill ending reign: first recounting the surpassing pleasures that are compassed within the Crowns of Kings: then the honour they every day receive from many millions of serviceable subjects. And when he had largely related all these forepast pleasures, then like AEneas, when he described to woe weeping Dido, the sunerall flames that had fired fair Ilion's glory, with sad faced sighs he then settles him down to tell the tragic story of his own fall. Which when this wild man had attentively heard, considering with himself the great occasion, that should draw down so many distilling tears from the eyes of so patiented a creature, as he seemed to be, 'gan thus answer his yet unknown father. If (quoth he) with the unstable storms of wind, the strong Cedars that stoutly stands on the tops of high mountains firmly rooted in flinty rocks, be so suddenly thrown down, what shall small shrubs shroode themselves withal, who yet scarce recovered, but entering the superficies of the earth, is hardly able to abide the sweet breathed Southern blast? If such be the unconstant state of your greatest Kings, what is the fickle fortune of your servile subjects? Then see I myself here happy in despite of fate, having nought wherein to joy, I shall lose nothing which should urge me to weep. Much talk passed betwixt them to this effect, when as the King willing to be again released from that prison, wherein he was perforce detained, fell in persuading this wild man to accompany him into the peopled world, where he might live with men, and leave these wild woods where was no company but beasts, telling him the pleasure was like to proceed from the one, and the lasting pains he should still be put into by the other. But so far had the former tale of his rising and sudden falling dissuaded him from dwelling in that Icy stay, where he that is surest is uncertain how long he shall stand, that he thought it better dwelling in a lowly valley, from whence lower he could not fall, then climbing to the height of a hill, where his fortune was ever in danger to fade. At last when the King perceived all his labour lost, he desired his companion again to conduct him to the place where before he found him solitarily sitting by himself: which though he was loath to do, fearing least by that means he should lose his company, yet notwithstanding enforced by the earnest entreaty of this his new found friend, he condescended to his request. And they two together travailed so long that at length they came down into another dale on the other side of that hill where the morning before they met, through which lay many fair pleasant paths that directed the way to every adjoining place, where the savage man loath to stray too far, lest he should not happily hit back again on his own way, leaves his friend to his better fortune, where for a while we must also leave them both, Perseus in travailing into the world to seek some more faithful friends, and Adrianus returned back again into the forest, to his accustomed company.   

How Theseus in his flight was intercepted by the thieves that first saved his daughter, and what followed of that. CHAP. 3.  
IN this time Thesers, that was the other brother, who after the overthrow of his army, had taken his way towards those plain forests that borders upon the banks of the sea, was in his travail circumvented by many outlaws, that hovering upon the high ways accustomably used to spoil poor passengers, who seizing upon that bootless pray, pulls him perforce home to their cave, which was in that place where before we told you his daughter was surprised by those thieves, when her Aunt's servant intended to drown her in that sea that now severs the Christian coast from the bounds of over burned Barbary. Where when he came, he begin cunningly to dissemble his estate, lest by that means he might be prevented of his further purpose, feigning himself to be a poor country peasant that had thither wandered from his way, alleging simplicity for his excuse. And for that there remained now about him no tokens that might tell from whence he came: for to prevent that purpose, he had exchanged all his kingly robes with a base slave, that in his flight he met by the way: whereby being believed by them to be what he barely affirmed himself, and destitute of such purchase as they promised themselves he had been possessed of, seeing him a goodly man like to stand them instead, they begin to persuade him to follow that lewd life themselves did there profess, which was the robbing and despoiling of poor people, the neighbouring inhabitants of that cursed country. Whereto he for fear condescended, lest if he should have denied, their cruelty might have cut away the hope of his after harvest, which for all this trouble he hoped in the end to achieve. And so walking homewards, in their way they began to instruct him in their thievish occupation, he should mercilessly spoil the poor, rob the rich, without remorse bereave them of their lives, that stubbornly stand out against their endeavours. Spending the time in these villainous practices, at length they drew near home, where ready to entertain them was the Captain of these confederates walking with his wife, a goodly woman, richly attired with the precious spoils that these unthrifty villains had forcibly taken away from many true men in their travail. This woman was that Livia that we told you before was taken away from her friends, with an intent to have been slain: but rescued by those Outlaws, had a long time made her abode amongst them, and as growing in years, so in beauty & commendable qualities, was at the length beloved of him that was chief Captain of that cruel company, and at last were married together, of whom he begot a fair daughter, whose name was Larina, which they tenderly brought up, thinking that one day fortune would so favourably smile upon them, as to grace their government, as that they should by some means reduce it from barbarous outlawed cruelty, to authentic well governed civility. To these two their factors present this spoil, which though he were poor, yet did hope persuade them that he would supply their necessity in another matter, though he deceived their expectations in the present possession of such rich prize, as commonly they were accustomed to find of such as they suspected him to be. To be short, they entertained him well, because they would encourage him to serve them with the like: where for a while he changed his sometimes happy estate, to the inforcive fury of their more than brutish behaviour, where with they accustomed to handle all that came in their hold. At length, after he had long time enured himself to this kind of company, walking one day under the solitary shadow of a sheltering rock, upon whose top those people for their pleasure had framed the form of a gorgeous garden, and with great labour (for what will not pains perform) planted divers springs of several trees, that with their continual comforting, with supply of such things as added more moisture to their roots, than the barren rock, were grown up very high, under whose shadow one d●y to shelter herself from the heat of the sun, was solitarily set. This Lady where tuning the strings of a sweet sounding Lute, she to their trembling strain warbles forth this ditty.  

If every creature make such mirth  
To see his kindred in their kind,  
How then may I bewail my birth,  
Which wants that means to cheer my mind?  
No tongue can tell where I was bred,  
Nor any happy man relate  
The place from whence I first was led,  
To wear here in this woeful state.   
Unto whom he that all this while had heard her sad song, gins thus to answer her in another sort.  

And I must sing another note,  
Whom fortune hath cast down  
From fames fair top, where I did float,  
In sorrows lap to drown.   
Whence she looking down to see what echo should readily in her own vain answer her again, espies this new entertained servant of theirs sitting so solitarily under the side of a rock, to whom she calls to come up unto her into the garden, that she might further confer with him about his estate, which yet he made so strange. To whom when he came, he gins ruefully to lament his forlorn estate, telling her all the story of their unbrotherlike strife, even until that present place wherein they were: whose many tears moved such mercy in the ear of this passionate Lady, as the promising her aid to release him from that thraldom, he boldly goes forward to disclose the drift of his devise, telling her that the scope of his intent was either to departed far from the remembrance of that country, or else to stir up some neighbouring friends of his that dwelled in an adjoining Island to those confines, to rise with him in arms for the recovery of his kingdom: to the furtherance whereof, would she but work some means for his release, if fortune & his forward stars did but further his friends, he would so remunerat that good turn, as she should bless the time wherein she first intended such an enterprise. Which when he had vehemently vowed, she to avoid suspicion sends him away: and afterwards gathering from her husband, and the rest of their servants, which way they meant the next day to address themselves, and so plotting her purpose, shift his escape by a contrary way, that night furnishes him with all such necessaries, as her poor provision could afford, and so secretly sends him away: where we must a while leave him in his travail to try his friends, and she with her husband in his homely rocky house, and come once more to those wicked women, by whose means was grown all their misery.   

How the two Queens met both together in the lions den where Adrianus was brought up, and how by his means they were rescued. CHAP. 4.  
THey by the censure of the just judging senate, that had secretly searched almost the depth of their devise, and by such circumstances, as the process of that little proof they had did afford them, sound the greatest fault of that fury in these worse then wicked women, had for ever forbidden them further abode within the bounds of that kingdom, until they could by their accord join those again that their discord had dissevered, and be themselves the means of their peace, that of themselves had bred their wars: who taking them to this several search, 'gins now frame themselves to be obedient to all that before were second to none, clad in course sackcloth that were not contented with rich silks, spending the dark nights under the doleful shades of Cypress bows, that had scorned the pleasure of princely beds; in stead of those choice dainties whereon before they fed, now content with the meanest meat that the earth did afford. Doriabella that was wife unto Perseus the eldest brother, she wandering through the unknown ways of a wide forest, was there suddenly encountered in the same place, where by her means her son Adrianus should have been murdered by the like luck with a fierce Lioness, of whom she being afraid, made means to escape away: but all in vain, for the beast seizing upon her body, countermands her course, and perforce carries her down to the same den where she fostered her child: for this was the same Lioness that saved Adrianus from the cruelty of that cutthroat caitiff that had cunningly contrived his end: where, for that the beast had some extraordinary intent, to provide for her fostered child some company of his own kind for him to consort withal, or that the Gods in their great unsearchable wisdom had lengthened out her life to a worse intended end. This brute beast without offering her violent injury, which is a thing not commonly found in their kind, sets her safely down in her cave, where she quietly kept her till such time as her companion came in, to whom with her fair wont fawning she presents her prize. The woman better emboldened at the show of a man, than she was of the still fearful sight of the beast, gins somewhat to recover her lost colour, and with fearful cries 'gins suddenly implore his aid against the envy of that her natural enemy. At whose sight the man somewhat joyful to see the shape of another, in whom was represented the show of himself, 'gins with his ordinary entertainment to welcome her to that homely house, telling her that such was the extraordinary nature of that beast, that she would never harm any creature: and then falling into further talk, he gins to inquire of her what drew her down into those melancholy meads, where save himself seldom or never comes any such creatures. To whom she gins to relate a contrary course of her foreled life, fearing lest the very sound of her voice in reiterating the remembrance of her death-meriting deeds, would not only incur his anger, but stir up that senseless beast to wreak their woes, whom she so unworthily had wronged, and therefore tells him that she was a woe wearied woman, that in her melancholy moods bade left the poor place where she dwelled, to sojourn in some uncouth unfrequented shade, where no delightful day might solicit to her sad memory, the love of her forepast life no cheerful sun might cherish her cold chilled limbs, nor pleasant news of never dying joy might bring her back again to her former felicity. At which tale the wild man, though himself had never felt the force of powerful passions, that winds men's bodies like a workmanship in wax: yet pitying that in her he never tasted in himself, tells what truth told him, that hard was her hap to change her cheerful consorting company of friends, to desolations sad discomforture amongst her foes, to come from whence she was first brought up, to that place where she was finally cast down, except (quoth he) you can frame your fancy to undergo the beastly behaviour of these uncivil creatures, amongst whom I now live, and with whom I mean to die: for such a rumour hear I to run of the inconstant course of mightiest monarchies, which also in some I have seen true, that from the highest branch they are oft bowed down even to the lowest bark of the bulk, that I find more sweet content in this unchangeable stay, than they in their stedfastest state. In which talk they beguiled the time, till night overtaking them both, admits no more interpassage of friendly speech, where he to his ordinary rest, and she to her accustomed complaints, betakes themselves, she telling in secret to her sad heart the heavy burden of her groaning griefs, whose heavy soul melted with the inforcive fury of her still crying sorrow, destils in amber tears: sometimes she thinks of her husband, and then hope helps her up with this thought, that though long, yet they shall again meet at last. Then remembers she the children, as well that of her own as the other, that by her means was massacred, supposing heavens had heaped just vengeance upon her for her former sins. And lastly, when she thought upon herself, then comes dead death with his crazy coloured countenance, and enforces her not to blush for shame, as do the outward shows of offenders, but look pale for pity as the use of such guilty guides, that not only leads themselves into that recureless gulf of never recovering grief, but also intises other into a world of woes, from whence there is no retiring. Thus did she prevent that which ever was assaying to prevent her, the all stilling state of secure sleep, where her thought was still stumbling of some sin, whose just judgement was likely to ensue upon her after life, till in the secret of the silent night there suddenly sounded over their heavy heads the noise of a fearful pursuit, as though some angry beast had insolently risen upon another simpler sort, where suddenly into the Cave where they than lay, descends down the likeness of a lively creature, not such as was wont to accompany them in their Caves, but others that elsewhere, with untimely disturbance waken the sleeping wits of watchful men, at which they were all afraid. The Lioness for that she these many days had never been in any such sort disturbed; the man for that since his first coming thither, he never viewed any such thing; the woman for that she dreamt of some extraordinary event that should ensue of that sudden uproar: but as every wonder becomes at last more ordinary than it shows at the first, so in the end by the shadow searching Moon, they might more easily espy that which had driven them all into this extraordinary doubt, the substance of the other sister, whose fault was equal with the first, and so was her repentance as ready as any of the rest. But how sudden sorrow overtook her heavy heart, in finding that in the end from which she fled in the beginning, a Lion from whose claws she thought she had cleared herself. But as it fares in the ever swelling surges of the senseless seas, that the weary water working men fall from the greedy gripe of Silla's shivering shores, into the covert of Charibdes cruel course: so fares it with her that flying from the bare show of death, was fallen into darkness itself. Where when she saw so many contraries coupled in one subject, as cruelty with courtesy, fell inforcive fury with friendly for bearing fellowship, reasonable caitiffs' there subject to unreasonable creatures, soul possessing bodies with savage professing beasts. But at length she satisfied with the show of them, and they glutted with gazing on her, the savage man as courteously gins to welcome her, as he gave gentle greetings to the other, and with such words as his yet unkindly courtesy did afford, entertains her. And for that the trouble some time of the night did not afford such show of further favour, as by his promise he purposed to perform in the day: she by the other softly sits down herself, betwixt whom you must now imagine such dumb demeans of friendship, for fear to proceed, as whilst they were, well could not come from courteous love. There do these two with outward shows display one's plaints to the others passions. Many dumb demeans passed betwixt these two, till after long linger shows, that with their dissembling shadows, had lulled again into a slumber these two careless creatures, whose nature suspecting nothing else but naked truth, without all further inquisition falls again fast asleep: which when these two woeful women had warily weighed, they taking this advantage of time, 'gins quickly one to murmur to another the events of their several journeys. And here must I now leave further to enuey against their enmity, and talk now of their solemn contrition, wherein we must not weigh the ruin of their children's rape, but the remorse of their sins remembrance: faults that are peevishly persecuted, deserves the pity of no one: but crimes wilfully committed, with the remedy of repentance are mightlly amended. Which in these two proved most true: for there each other confessing to themselves in these perils the dangers they did one to another in their peace, with womanish woe that ofter in tears more bewails their unfortunate ends, than they foresec their two forward beginnings, and then with many tears torments themselves too much, which they might well have prevented with a little, cursing too late that which is come at last upon those crimes they committed at the first. And here let me show their unconstant state, not standing always in a stay, but wavering like the wind, sometimes prosecuting with loathed disdain, them which once they did follow with loving desire: then changing their copy as cowards do their countenance, that waver with the wind of every buzzards blast, they again begin to desire what before so deeply detested: sometimes with hasty men too soon breeding their own sorrow, and then with slothful siuggards deferring too long to salve their own sores, oftentimes weaving their own woe, when they suppose they work another's wrack. For so unwary are their wits, that they never think of that should follow, from the force of that which goes before: but like the unfortunate Lark that drawn down with the dazzling glide of a deceiving glass, delighting so long in his game till he be catched in the gin: so fares it with these fond fools, that God knows are too greedy of some silver deceiving shows, and yet busy enough to bite off others golden baits. Yet not so provident as the poor sparrow, that having escaped the fowlers fetter, with her cheerful chirping gives notice to the rest of her neighbours: but where themselves have seen many fall, they yet desperately follow.  
Here might I extend this Satirical vain, but that I will not be accounted as one that loathes what other men loves: & therefore wish they could amend what even themselves sees plainly amiss, and in themselves learn to fear that, which by example of their own sex they cannot beware. And thus pitying them, whose hurt rests only in themselves to help, I will refer you to wonder at these two wicked women, whose deeds had so far divided them, till that unlooked for luck had met them together again in that desolate place, whom deserving divorce had parted in their peopled palace: there gi'en they one to another relate the tragic story of their forepast purposes in their divers imaginations of each others injury, till at last according in one consent they mutually move what they had maliciously meant, till that lamenting each to other their lewd lives, they with instant iutreaties solicits the neversayling forces of all helping heavens, that with favour they would look upon their faults that had indeed deserved their just frowns. For such must I needs say is the composition of those, though often careless, yet more usual comfortable creatures, that if for want o● well guiding government they sometimes fade, yet seldom do they for ever fall. For such is their flexible nature, as like the Philosopher's table they willingly impose upon themselves every several impression, but commonly their nature nourishes but one: as when the profit proving merchant views the several sorts of sundry commodities, though there be many that he well could like of, yet is there but some few that especially he can love: so is it in the seldom security of this sex, that busying themselves with many, they bind themselves but to a few. Nay, shall I compare them to a fit form of reason resembling creatures, as when the Lapwing hovering far from her nest, seems to descry the danger of her young near hand, which he that suffers his patience to search shall find far off: so have I heard it proved true of them, whose policy in this I must needs approve, if well performed to be perfect: for that they colour thereby the cunning of their own skill, and withdraw the otherwise beholders affections far off, not to look to that practice they in such secret perform. But now leave we then in this inforcive peace, the end of their selfe-wrought war, learning to live like the Lion in fear, that lightly before regarded the liberty of love, and look back again to our first painful pilgrim.   

How Perseus came to the Court of Ferdinand the French King, and of him got aid for the recovery of his country. CHAP. 5.  
Perseus' seeking some refuge after he had forsaken the company of his unsuspected son, at last directs his course to climb the mighty Alps, and go renew his acquaintance now in France in his age that he had got there in his youth, where his old father had kept him long at school to learn there the rudiments of art, whereof their own country was not then so well stored: where coming to the King's court, was at the first lightly received of them, whom sometimes he had graced with his company: imitating the example of unmerciful masters, that when a silly servant, wherein was sometimes their treasure, falls by mishap to any sudden mischance, them presently accounts he not of him so w●ll as of a slave, whom he was wont to use familiarly as his friend. Yet at the last uncovering the cause of his care, and with tears telling them the truth of two true stories, Ferdinand (for so was then that French kings name) pitying the ill hap of his age, of whom there was such great hope in his youth, answers him again in tears, the ensigns of grief, and comforting on him up with the presages of more favourable fortune, 'gins bid him but devise with himself how he might any wise do him good, and he would willingly not only employ his country and kingdom, but hazard his own health to do it, though now death had displayed his colours on his hoary head, and currishly counterchecks his courage. Which reply so relieved the dying countenance of this other worse than captive king, as that calling back his de●aying senses, whose vigores were now all mustering about the labouring heart, every one expecting a sundry answer for their several release, makes him begin again to look for longer life, who before desired nothing more than a speedy death. And first with humble thanks rendering to the king he gins to explain unto him his intended purpose, which was, that if he could by his friendly favour get but again together a moiety of those men which before he had miss, and by his own negligence undone, his intent was again to invade his country, and set himself once more in his kingdom. To whom the old king offered all speedy aid he was able to perform, whom we leave a while mustering their soldiers to send over the Alps into Italy, and now talk of Theseus.   

How Theseus persuading the King of Barbary to the spoil of his country, obtained the aid of the Moors. CHAP. 6.  
Theseus', who after by the means of his unknown daughter had freed himself from that danger, shipping himself in a little galley that was then going over into Africa, he committeth himself to the mercy of the seas, from whom the well wishing winds had soon set him free. Where when he came, he politicly gins to consort himself with a noble man, whom the black king of that country had before (whilst these two brethren did together lovingly sway the Sceptre of their quiet kingdom) employed upon embassage unto them, and unto him delates his drift, telling how he by the means of mutinous subjects, was wrested out of his country and kingdom, & driven to seek relief in that strange soil, protesting that if he could by any means come by sufficient supply of men and munition, that would but in revenge of these injuries overrun his countries, he not looking again to possess his Crown, would yield up both the spoil of his country and the possession of his kingdom to the conqueror. To which pleasing tale the Moor giving some ear, for that in them was rooted an old grudge against the Italians, spurs speedily to the King to certify him of this offered occasion of rigorous revenge upon their old enemies. To whom he listening, desirous both to scourge that country that had oft scourged him, and also to enlarge the bounds of his kingdom beyond the border of the binding sea that separates those several parts of the world, and keeps the inhabitants within the compass of their own country, offers hasty help to the performance of the others request, and in the mean time whilst all these things were making ready, they contrary to their former sort of civility, gently entertain him, under whose colour they were in such hope of success in those wished wars. Now gins the coal black curs rejoice within themselves in very conceit of conquest, dividing the spoils before they were about to begin the battle, telling of their triumphs before they well knew what it was they should win: here are whole Dukedoms cast away at dice upon a drums head, before they almost dreamt what it was that should be had: where we will a while leave them two providing their pretended forces for Italy, and come again to the Outlaws, where we left livia's daughter coupled in marriage with their chief Captain.   

How the Outlaws seeking their prey, by chance met with Adrianus the wild man, and how they persuaded him to leave that place, and what followed thereof. CHAP. 7.  
THey after their custom, dividing themselves into divers companies, searches all the conveying ways of their country for to find some fit prey, where some of them travailing further than their accustomed compass, because fortune had not afforded them such favour as at the first to speed themselves, they were therefore enforced to follow the trace of some way, in which they hoped at last (though it were too long) to meet with some or other booty that would bountiously guerdon their travail. So long they traced to and fro that they got up to the top of a high hill, whence they might see down below in the dale a man alone, whose show was not such as they wished, trimmed up in gorgeous golden apparel, but covered with a beasts skin on his back, bearing a knotty club, such weapons as nature there had framed for him, and walking up and down in these deserts, made the silly beasts with obeisance crouch to his countenance, as did Alcides terrify the furies in the bosom of burning hell. This was Adrianus that was there alone walking the wide circuit of those melancholy meads, to whom they posting apace, thinking by surprising him, though of himself they should reap small commodity, yet by his means they might be directed to some more profitable place. This savage man looking back, and seeing so many suddenly descend from the top of the hill, whose unorderly approach as he supposed, pretended little good: he naturally foreseeing what inconveniences might follow, addressing himself to his defence with his natural wrought weapon, which was a young oaken plant, and perceiving them especially to shape their course to him, stoutly stands still to see some end of their actions. To whom when they came near, his fierce countenance half affrighted them, that standing all still like the star gazers at the transforming head of Gorgon, durst not once so much as inquire what he was, till one hairebraine companion taking the advantage of his weapon, that was not used to the cunning sleights of fence, got quickly within him, and shifting himself from the weighty fall of his club, supposed with some nimble sleight to overcome him: which when the savage man perceived, getting hold of him with one of his hands, before the other had performed his purpose, gives him such gripe as squisies perforce the pithy marrow from most of his strength bearing bones, and so leaves him suddenly slain, that intended such unacquainted injury to him. Which when the rest of his fellows saw, being about forty in number, though half afraid all of them to set upon that silly one, yet loath to leave their fellows ruin unrevenged, they begin altogether to assault him, who with the weight of his weapon dealt such right down blows amongst them, as whosoever it lighted on it quite killed, or at the least lamed them. Long continued their combat, for that they sustained the foil, and therefore were loath for their credits to leave the field: yet at the length being almost half of them spoiled, or quite spilt, the rest despairing to run away, lest he should overtake their flight, in all humility suddenly throws down themselves at his feet, entreating favour for their rash offence, and that their fellows death might satisfy his desire: on whom his gentle nature could not inflict further fury, but with a good will accepts their homage as they offer their humility. And then falling into further conference, gins discourse unto him what they were, and to what end they were come thither, whom he handles with all humility, laying open unto them his own estate, his manner of life in those peopleles places, and what ever had happened unto him since his first remembrance, carrying them home to his Cave, and there letting them see the manner of his life, where they found sorrowfully sitting these two sad sisters, whose fore ill spent lives had brought upon them this loss, to whom he also gins to relate the strange manner of their arrival. At last, after they had walked with him round about the borders of his bounds, they begin to dissuade him from that beastly place of abode to go abroad into the world, and there learn to live like a man, showing what danger was in the one, and what delight in the other, persuading him that by the means time would try the truth of this his fedious search, in bewraying the means by which he was brought thither. Unto whom a great while he would give no ear, because it should seem that contented estate wherein he then stood so fitted his humour, as that he little regarded all the gay stories they could tell him of glory or dignity, wealth, or whatsoever good thing this world doth give. Yet at the last with their incessant persuasions, he determined a while to go try the truth of their story: but with this promise, that as they proffered honestly to use himself, so should they also kindly comfort those two distressed women, that had unhappily strayed from their homes, and rely them only upon his relief. Which they with many protestations solemnly promised to do. And so in the end taking away with him those two, by whose means he was made the subject of that nuschance, departed altogether from that place, and journeyed towards their homes again. In which weigh nothing was done, save that they still were telling one to another the story of their foreled lives: and with that tattle beguiling the time, till they came to the place where was their abode, and there presenting to their Captain their prey, they begin to relate what happened them in their journey. Thus with many salutations was he entertained, and often employed in their affairs, wherein he so prosperously proceeded, as that he was not only beloved of all the company, but dearly esteemed of their chief Captain, and so still employed abroad. In the mean time were the poor Queens, whom fortune had thus baned to and fro, busied at home: for by this time were these Outlaws waxed exceeding rich, and their Captain entirely affecting Livia his wife, daughter to one of these unknown Queens, had carefully provided her of the curiousest conceits that all that country did afford: where, for that these two women that had sometimes been Princes over many people, could well skill of that kind of pampering pride which women are wont to use, grew in such great request with their Lady, that above all her attendants they especially were honoured. Here hence grew they again into a new mutiny which of them should best deserve to be desired, one privily seeking to spoil what another had curiously conceited, the other practising means to hinder her sister's work, that it might prove of little worth. Long in this sort 'gan they disagree, till at last with their envious emulation they stirred up all the assembly to such strife, as had not the care of the chary Captain in time reform, it had brought selfe-working harm upon their own heads. Such was the grounded malice of these two cruel creatures, as that though fear in extremity made them agree as friends, yet in the least show of peeping prosperity they begin again the fierce assaults of deadly foes. Who for the better agreement of their whole house, they were glad to separate in twain, to see if that bred friendship being asunder, that brought out nothing but hatred betwixt them whilst they were together.   

How both the Kings brought their borrowed armies both together into the country, and how the citizens levied arms against them, and what was the end of that war. CHAP. 8.  
IN the mean time whilst these things had thus happened, the two dissevered Kings (of whom before we told you) had brought in both their several supplies of men and munition for the conquering of their lost kingdoms, and pitching their tents upon the territories of that careful kingdom, gins with intermissive messages to summon the inhabitants, to render over again that rule which so long they had retained. Where in the Senate house at one time meets both these messengers, craving the kingdom for their several masters: yet till that time those cursed Kings had not heard what was become one of another. To whom the Senators wisely with courteous countenances gave this answer: That for so much as they were there met to challenge the kingdom severally to themselves which should be jointly enjoyed of them both, pleased but their Lordships to give them leisure for these few days to consider of this case, and then they would answer them both to their own contents. With which answer the messengers departed back again to their several masters. After whose absence, these careful pillars of that craft Commonwealth, gins to consider with themselves what were best to do in these dangerous days. At length they thought good themselves, that to avoid the inconveniences which was likely to light upon them by this purpose, it were best for them, as they did at the first, to gather forces together: for by other means they would not be appeased, and by that devise assay to drive them back again. Which the better to effect (for that country was scarce able of itself to afford sufficient force for that fight) they presently dispatch assurance of pardon, and promise of rich reward and great dignities to the Captains of all those Outlaws, that were encamped in several places of that country, if but by such a day they would bring in their several powers, to the end they might augment their army against these home-born enemies. Which proclamations was so effectually performed, as that within a short time there were gathered together an infinite number of such people as lived in the mountains, and other remote places of that country, upon the spoil of other people: amongst whom was the band of Outlaws, wherein Adrianus was entertained: who being gathered altogether, began to address themselves to the several functions in furnishing themselves to the field. In the mean time came the day wherein they were to give answer to their several demands. At what time comes back both the Heralds to know their determinations. To whom the Senators foreappointed for that purpose, gins thus mildly to resolve them in their requests. Since (quoth he) the state of these times wherein we now live, requireth such surety of safeguard, as may withstand the envious force of any froward fortune, we to prevent the purpose your ill meaning masters intend, which is no less than the ruin and decay of our whole Commonwealth; as strongly as we may have here furnished ourselves with such forces, as this time and place could afford. But for that once (which we must ever confess) they were our happy Kings, though now they be unhappy people, and that of right to them doth belong this government that we now guide, if they setting aside all sinister hate, will come and friendly again repossess this Crown and kingdom, and with mutual love strive to maintain that, which with their envious emulation they now massacre and maim, then on our shoulders will we bear their burdens, and with according strength help them to stay this tottering state, which their deeds have almost brought to decay: but if incensed with the fire of furious flaming envy, they will not work their thoughts conformable to this thing, but with fire and sword will needs lay waste this sometimes worthy Commonwealth, then will we oppose ourselves against their threats, and seek such a mends for this mischief, as shall with just judgement pull down their puffed up plumes, and turn them out again into the wide world to become a worse scorn of mischance. With this answer the messengers departing: and having told at home their several tales, it so displeased the Princes, that presently without further delay they would the next morning furiously with both their forces set upon the governors of their country, and when they had conquered them, then be take themselves to strive whether should be sole conqueror. Word whereof being speedily brought to the Senators, they against the next morning 'gins prepare all their power, and pitching their battle upon the bosom of a broad plain that lay betwixt the enemy's leaguers, made offer to fight with them both at once. Which when the enemies saw, they as ready to take the occasion as the other to offer, 'gins furiously to set upon them, where joining straight at handy strokes, there followed a long and furious fight, the victory to neither part declining, till at last Adrianus that then had the charge of a Cornet of horse, breaking into the bowels of the enemy's battles, wrought such wonderful achievements, as made him justly accounted for the best approved soldier that that country did ever contain, with whose worth the foes were so discomfited, that on a sudden affrighted they betook themselves to flight, whom he eagerly following overtook the two Kings, that by chance had met in the battle, eagerly occupying their feet to escape the scourge of their enemy's hands, whom he surprising brought back again to their homes, and presented them to the Senate as the first fruits of his fortune. Where by this time were gathered together the most of those governors, to gratulate their forward friends that were returned safe from the fight, who wondering at his worth, could not sufficiently commend his courage: but consulting now with themselves what were best to be done in this dangerous business.   

How after that these two Kings were overcome, Adrianus was chosen king of that country, and how he came to know his father and mother, by which the former falsehood was descried. CHAP. 9  
AT last they thought it best, that since these two baleful brethren did even in their captivity still deny to take upon them the mutual government of that kingdom, intended for their after quiet to choose some one of these worthies that had there wrought their release. And for that they would not incur the displeasure of any of those coequal Captains, that had so bravely demeaned themselves, a motion was made amongst them, that for so much as there was no lineal succession left for the inheritance of their kingdom, they then had thus determined to cast lots amongst them all so to choose their King: which fell upon Adrianus, of whom they were as glad as his own hap was good, who with every several ceremony belonging to the coronation of such a King established in that country, he first recalls from their banishment all those Outlaws by whom he was brought thither, and preferring of his friend and sometimes his Captain, to a place of great authority in his kingdom, taught him to employ his wit in the building of that Commonwealth up again, the which afore he laboured to pull down. This Captain we told you before had by Livia his wife a fair daughter named Laryna, to whom Adrianus in the time of his abode in her father's house had oftentimes made love, and she with like favour requited him, who but for the sudden sound of these new wrought wars, had by the consent of their parents before enjoyed the pleasure they both so instantly desired, who then coming to the Court with her mother, the two captive Queens, and the rest of their retinue, was presently by the consent of the Senate, who desired nothing more than some issuing heirs that might successively follow in the possession of this kingdom, coupled in marriage with this new King. After which joyful day, the King and the Queen, with the rest of the Nobles gathered together, calls in those captive brethren to know the cause whence grew their discord, and the two women to inquire of them what had been the manner of their former lives. Where when they were all met, the old queens seeing their husbands there fast in fetters, touched with a remorse of conscionce, falls down before them, and there confessed the whole course of their lives, and the murdering of their children. By the circumstances of whose tale and the time thereof, these two lost children there found out their several parents: and so faults on both sides forgiven, and injuries on every part made even, they spent the rest of their days in solemn contrition for their former faults.   
FINIS.