A Defiance to Fortune. Proclaimed by Andrugio, noble Duke of SAXONY, declaring his miseries, and continually crossed with unconstant Fortune, the banishment of himself, his wife and children.  
Whereunto is adjoined the honourable Wars of Galastino, Duke of Milan in revenge of his wrongs upon the traitorous Saxons. Wherein is noted a mirror of noble patitience, a most rare example of modest chastity, and the perfect pattern of true friendship. Very delectable and full of variety.  
Written by H. R.  
Printed at London for john Proctor. 1590.   

TO THE WORSHIPFUL WILLIAM. Borough, Esquire, controller of her majesties royal Navy. H. R. wisheth long and happy life, with fortunate success in all your attempts, and after death the joys everlasting.  
ALEXANDER (Right Worshipful) amongst men greatest on the earth, ceasing his hard toil from pursuit of his enemies, he held no recreation in such account, as reading of histories, especially such as treated of the honours gained by noble warriors long before his time entombed in the entrails of the earth: wherein his delight was as much as in maniging his steed, or shivering his lance in the midst of his foes.  
SCIPIO that noble Roman which subdued many nations had no small delight in the like exercise: noting by reading the events of war, and pleasant baits of fortune, how Warriors gained honour: and then again how they were subdued: the mighty kings by peasants and men of base account displaced, and the ignoble exalted, changing all estates at her pleasure. This Fortune (of the Poets feigned a Goddess) having the reign of all estates in her hand, disposeth like a blind guide, at her will, setting up and pulling down, whom she list to overthrow or advance.  
An example of which (right Wor.) I present to you in this history, wherein you shall see her mutability, showing continually her froward & unconstant mind, in crossing that noble and unhappy prince Andrugio, sometime Duke of Saxony, whose miseries exceeded all that ever I read or heard of: from the sixteenth year of his age never enjoying long time of content according to his estate, but many days spent he in extreme misery, as the history of his life shall manifest, to which I leave you: humbly beseeching your Worship to shield it under your protection, and when time shall permit you leisure, vouchsafe the reading of it, in which I doubt not (albeit the style be rude) but that you shall find something to delight you.  
And if it so happen, I have my wish, and the long desire I have had to make my zeal known unto your worship, in som● sort is satisfied.  
Your Worship to command 
 until death. 
 H. R.   

The Miseries of ANDRUGIO, Duke of Saxony.  
SIENNA, famous throughout the world for beautiful situation, civil government, good education, and profiting of her students, was so renowned, that none of any reputation living within the dominions of the Emperor, but had an especial desire to have their sons trained in that university, especially the Dukes, princes and Nobles. Amongst many gallant youths, to whose ears fame had bruited this peerless report of so goodly a City with the virtues therein abounding, Andrugio some and heir apparent to the noble Duke of Saxony, a toward Gentleman, prone to all virtuous exercises, desirous to attain the knowledge of all arts, hearing the fame of Sienna, desirous also to see the place, and to spend his time in study, as also to acquaint himself with other princes which came from all parts to this place to see their behaviour, and know the manners of their country: pricked with a continual desire to this attempt, maketh humble suit unto the Duke his father for the furthering of this intent, which so long he prosecuteth in such earnest manner, that after many denials of the aged Duke, as a loving father, whose tender care might not endure the absence of his dear and only son, having a fatherly regard unto him, yea, and mor● than ordinary affection of fathers unto their children wearied also with the importance of his suits, whic● day and night he continually solicited, both by himself an● his friends, at length granteth his good will (as what is it that parents will not grant for their children's benefit?) yet to be advised better before he suffer him to departed, summoneth all his Nobles and Estates of the country, beseeching their counsels touching the request of his some: Unto whom he recounteth the effect of the Princes earnest suit.  
These Nobles hearing so honourable a motion of the young Lord, well noting his delight in study at home, being of years so tender, not yet attaining to the full term of sixteen years, were wonderfully amazed to hear so e●nest a suit from so childish a mouth. wherefore, as desirous to further his suit, having considered what profit it would be unto them, and their posterity in time to come, to have a wise, learned, & well governed prince, with other virtues which attend the learned, which bring knowledge of the Gods, and endue the followers with civil policy, and good government, living in great hope he would prove to be such a one as he seemed: they give their consent for his departure, & became humble suitors also for the obtaining the same at the Duke's hands: at whose request he is content it should be so giving his Nobles thanks for their favours towards his son, commanded that presently he be furnished with all things befitting his estate, which with all speed was performed. The Duke taking all his care forhonest, wise and well governed Tutors for him, which might by their discreet and sage caunsel, train him in such wise, that after the Castostrisie of his life, he might prove (as his hope was) honourable, learned, and wise, that he night be worthy to govern so noble a country, and they have joy of so young a Prince, yielding him such duty as becometh subjects to their sovereign, which he might requite with a tender love of a prince, and a careful mi●d of his people's good.  
The haste that was made in providing of all things for the prince's journey, according to his desire, is accomplished, wherefore (accompanied with many young Noblemen of his country, and Gentlemen sent by their Parents for the Prince's company, Coming before the Duke, as desirous to lose as little time as might be) they humbly take their leaves to departed. At which, many a tear both of the Duke and his Nobles was shed, for whom his father endured many sorrowful days thorough his absence: yet could he not deny his request, nor seek to cross his desires, which we●e honourable, and beseeming the son of so noble and famous a father.  

Lord ANDRUGIO his departure from the Court with his adventures.  
THe noble mind of this young prince, now in the flourishing tune of his age, began to show itself in such sort, as he might well be known to descend of so honourable Parentage as the Duke of Saxony: for, as the sonnebeames cannot be hid, so did virtue appear in him, pricking a forwardness to his desires, to see the manners and government of other countries: But too soon (alas) hath this natural Father yielded to the desire of so green a head, whose years do scarcely require the rain to be left in his own hand, as you shall hear.  
Fortune, mutable & unconstant dame, desirous to show what she could do, having brought this youngling to the top of his desires, began now to check him with such a bit, as might well serve a colt of elder year's, for being void of all doubts of any mischance to betide him or his companions, such miseries was he oppressed with, as are most lamentable to be remembered.  
For, understand after his departure from the Court of his Father, traveling by guides (as the manner of the country is) thorough uncouth places, environed with woods, and haunted with multitudes of wild beasts, a noble man of Italy, banished from his country for a most heinous treason conspired against the prince of the land, ranged continually those deserts, where he with his companions became most cruel manslayers, and spoilers of as many as fell into their hands, without fear of God, or respect of christianity. Never was there any tyrant of what name or condition soever, so cruel as this mischievous Gonsala jeriomanim, for so was he called.  
Earnest travel within small time hath brought this youth Andrugio with his company within the precinct of this cursed murderer, where he kept his residence, lodged in caves and holds of their own framing. Of whose scouts Andrugio was no sooner espied, but with all possible speed they provide to meet them, armed in all parts, as if they should encounter their professed enemies in the field.  
Andrugio void of all fear, took great pleasure in this journey, passing in pleasant discourses the time to beguile their travel: But (alas) in midst of these pleasures, befell them most unhappy fortune, even as the silly lambs, skipping by the side of their tender dam, is by the ravening Wolf bereaved of life. So fares it with Andrugio, who no sooner came to the place where these reprobates lay in ambush, attending their coming. But Gonsala stern & fierce of courage with his followers resolved to be their deaths, furiously assailed them, and in small time, taking them at advantage, overcame them, leaving not one to breath, as they supposed, bathing their murdering blades in the blood of these Gentiles: taking spoil of their treasure and other provision, they leave their bodies covered with moss and lose leaves, speeding them to their places of refuge, rejoicing with the spoil of those poor innocents, whom m●st traitorously they had slain.  
Now behold the unspeakable goodness of God unto this Lord Andrugio, whose wounds being not so deep as the rest of his friends, after a little trance began to recover, when breathing with a piteous groan, he strived to recover his feet to stand: but the blood being cold about his wounds caused such a stiffness, that impossible it was for him to move, with taking cold after his long bleeding: yet by the permission of the highest, unto whose holy will all creature's bend, in short time he recovered reasonable memory: when viewing round about him the slain carcases of his followers and friends, with piteous screeches and lamentable plaints complameth his misfortune on this wise.  
Andrugio, what cruel stars guided thy byrthday? or what cursed hag bewitched thee to motion a suit unto thy noble father, so greatly displeasing the Gods, who noting thy follies, have appointed these unmerciful murderers to danger thine own life, and bereave thee of thy friends, appointed by thy careful father for a comfort unto thee? O that the heavens had never condescended unto my nativity, or that in my cradle I had (like Hercules) been assailed by some poisoned scrpents, which might have abridged my life! But like Midas wish I for that that displeaseth the Gods. Andrugio, unhappy Andrugio, and most unfortunate in being son unto so noble a Duke, whose life must end in these accursed deserts, and no man to make report unto thy aged father, what is become of thee or thy companions, whose deaths by following thee in thy folly, is thus befallen them: cursed therefore Andrugio, whose desires have rob so noble gentlemen of their sons, gallant ladies and fair gentlewomen of their loves, and thy renowned father of an heir to succeed him in his Dukedom. O heavens, might your fury with my life have been appeased, how happy had I been! that the wrath of him whom I have provoked to ire, might have fallen upon mine own head: then noble friends, should you have enjoyed life to have reported my tragedy, which now are left void of all comfort to be a pray to the ravening beasts of this Desert, and to the fowls of the air. Yet kind Gods, whose pitiful condition is not to punish at full, the witkednes of your creatures: Hear with the ears of mercy my last petition, and send thy messenger Ziperus to blow into the ears of our comfootlesse Parents and friends, our untimely tragedies, that they knowing the place where our mangled bodies lie, may entomb us with our ancestors, and revenge our deaths on those most cursed homicides, whose bloody hands have been our confusions.  
Scarcely could he finish his sorrowful speech, when being faint with the loss of blood issuing from his wounds, and overcharged with sorrow for his friends lying slain by him, he gave so heavy a sigh as might have moved a heart of flint to pity his estate.  
In this extremity, behold, a comfort: for lo, a poor labouring man, servant unto a miller, dwelling two miles distant from the place where he received his wounds, searching for the strayed beasts of his said master Miller, happened by great chance to overhear this woeful complaint: which ended, standing half amazed to hear so sweet a voice, casting many ways in his simple mind the dangers, and subtleties of spoiling miscreants, supposed verily that it had been a devise of some villain, lurking there about of purpose to betray traveilers, and to bring them within their compass to rob them. Thus many ways misdoubting the worst, not yet resolved whether to departed, or to see what he was that made such a piteous moan: at length taking unto him the heart of Samson, he boldly stepped over the hedge into the grove whereas this wounded Andrugio lay.  
No sooner was he entered this grove, but viewing round the place, like a good Pilate for fear of rocks, glancing his eyes eftsoons to the ground, then else where, he chanced to espy great store of blood, which when he had with no small admiration beheld, putting on his holiday countenance, like an hardy squire, he marched on, following the track of the blood, until he came unto that place whereas all those dead carcases lay, when he had recovered the sight of these wounded men, his heart trembled with grief, & was worse moved at the discovering of them then ever in his life before, standing thus in his dumps, devising whether it were best to touch them or no: casting his eyes steadfastly on them, surveying their grievous wounds. Andrugio faint and full of pain with the extremity of his wounds, breathed softly: which being noted of this swain, drew near unto him, laying tenderly his hand on the stomach of Andrugio felt a panting short wind within him, whereat the man being somewhat joyful, rubbed his temples, so by little and little recovered him.  
When this kindhearted swain had by his diligence recovered Andrugio, and that perfectness of memory was again restored him, as a wight grieved at the mischances he saw was happened, he comforteth him in this wise.  
Gentleman (quoth he) for so your countenance showeth me, what evil fortune hath brought you unto this pitiful plight? or by whose hands have you with these your company been so cruelly mangled? tell me I beseech you, that revenging your injuries, I may pursue with diligence those bloodthirsty billaines, and by their deaths make satisfaction to the Gods, and those innocentes souls that they have murdered.  
Andrugio with ghastly countenance looking earnestly in the face of this comforter, after he had a while attentively harkened unto his speeches, thus answered.  
Whosoever thou be (gentle friend) that the Gods have thus appointed for my help in this extremity: I yield thanks according to thy courteous deserts: but couldst thou show as much grace to these my distressed friends here lain, how great cause I should have to glorify the Gods, and honour thee, my tongue cannot express, wretched and unfortunate that I am: yet gentle friend, in whom such courtesy remaineth, do me favour so much, as to tell me how thou earnest to this place, and thy dwelling: and thou that art a man christian and kind, as thy pains on me bestowed bear witness, vouchsafe, in such sort as thou canst, to comfort these my friends, and see if it hath so pleased the Gods to give any one of them leave to escape the heavy vengeance of those accursed slaves that have rob us of our substance, and murdered our bodies: and the rest that have yielded their lives to the fury of those tyrants blades, help me to entomb them according to their callings, who were all Gentlemen of account, which is the greatest honour I can do them: for the which as they died Innocents', their souls shall yield thee thanks before the throne of the greatest god where we shall all meet.  
Sir (quoth the swain) I see your wan looks betoken faintness, by occasion of your great loss of blood: wherefore if you will hearken unto the counsel of so simple a creature as myself, you shall cease this parley until you shall better endure it, and have recovered more strength. Two miles at least have I to my masters home, which is a silly cottage, not worthy to entertame such a one as you seem to be: yet as it is, your welcome shallbe as to your own: his only victuals is goat's milk, a white cake, oil, & honey, which command at your will. If these may in extremity pleasure you, arise and rest you on my shoulders, for I see you are feeble, until I have brought you where you may refresh you. As for your friends, whom you so much bewail, suffer them to rest in peace, for your wail may not be any way available unto them, and to morrow my master, with such help as we can provide, shall fulfil your request, and bury them, though not as you would wish, yet as we may, in the better sort.  
Andrugio wounded and faint, hearkening to his words that he spoke of good will, began to rouse himself: but so weak was he, that alone without help might not stir: wherefore the swain taking him in his arms, set him alone on his feet. But in vain it was, for stand he could not: which seeing, the poor swain showing a good inclination, as one beseeming some better education than he proffered, bound first his wounds, so that through straining they might not bleed: when taking his body as gently as he might on his neche, countaieth him as speedille as was possible to the Miller's house, where as he above with great trouble. At last they have attained this mill, long (God knows) of them desired before they came thither: whether they being come, Druha (for so was the swain called) recounteth unto the Miller and his wife the perplexed estate of this Gentleman Andrugio, with the loss of his friendly companions, bereaved of life by the murderous hands of ma●● villains, all strange and unknown unto them.  
The pitiful grandam, being of a right womanith nature, could not refrains shedding of tears to hear this sorrowful process: yet at last, to show how welcome the distressed noble was, albeit a mere stranger unto them, she bathed his wounds, and applied thereunto such huswifely salves as she thought might pro●●te best, in restoring his health. This done, she brought him such viands as she had ready prepared, commanding her daughter to provide some comfortable broths for him, which was speedily performed. When he had refreshed his wearied weak carcase, the good old wife began for his better comfort these speeches.  
Sir (quoth she) though the Gods have given you over into the hands of those miscreants, that have sought your life, yet be not dismayed, thank their Deities, that in the sharpness of their fury, have preserved you from death, no doubt for some better fortune, and to revenge the slaughter of your friends on those villains: for which their graciousness give them thanks, and feat not your health. Yn the mean time, if ●ou think good to accept such homely entertainment as I can give you, welcome shall be your best cheer, and what else you want command at your pleasure: my dearest and only daughter Susania shall attend you until your strength be recovered.  
Thanks (quoth Andrugio) to the heavenvly powers first, for providing me this good: and next to thee (my friendly Hostess) for thy favour bestowed on me, which might perish without comfort: but what friendship thou shalt impart unto me in this distress, if the pleasure of the divine Deity be to restore me again, thy courtesy shall be recompensed, and this kindness to thee and thine never be forgotten.  
Thus leave we Andrugio a while at his rest, attended on with Sufania, courteous and friendly unto her charge, delivered by her ancient mother: the old wife taking like care for the burial of the dead bodies, which in the best sort was shortly accomplished.  
Susania the good wench, attending diligently on her charge, hath in short time by the care she had of him, recovered his strength, that forsaking his bed, he walked often about his chamber, not daring yet to adventure into the air. Andrugio all this time of sickness noted the courteous demeanour of his attendant: and often times, as strength increased in him, would take great pleasure to try her wit by pleasant parley, sometime discoursing of one thing, and so interchangeably of many. But so long the fly playeth with the flame, that at length she is constrained to die through her folly: so fares it now with Andrugio, whose fine head had so long propounded quick questions, and was so sharply answer to of Susania, that his fancy began to settle on the maiden in such sort, that it grew from small kindled coals, to great flames: insomuch that nothing was pleasing unto him, if Susania had not been at the doing thereof: yea, such in short time became his affections, that never was his wounds so grievous as she absence of Susania: evermore recountering in his mind her beauty, courtesy, and qualities which did in all points so far pass the vulgar sort, as the white snow doth exceed in beauty the black pitch. These graces so abounding in Susania, have so besotted Andrugio his senses that he is driven now to non plus, amazed which virtue to commend as principal in her. As these cogitations beginning in him, so the fervent heat of loves passion increaseth in such sort, as there is no other pleasure to be had of him but only in commending the person, wit, and condition of Susania: yea, now is his only study how to please her, and his greatest care to make his love known unto her. Thus as a man of reason clean bereft, he calleth to mind his honourable descent: and then again the base lineage of Susania, being no better by birth then the child of a simple Miller, in whose company he was at that season recident which began to make him regard his nobility and weighing the honourable house of Saxony. To take advise how by joining in marriage with a person so inferior to his estate, might dishonour his progeny, & enbase his posterive. But Love who is now great master of his affections, seeing himself by reasons almost expulsed, begad again to assault him in such wise, as Susania, no none but Susania, fair and most brave Susania, and the chief of humane creatures, his only attendant Susania.  
In this passion, behow, his beloved having care of her charge, entered the chamber with some dainty provided of purpose for Andrugio: whom he no sooner beheld, but his spirits with joy died within him. whose strange passion grieved Susania at the heart to see him, whom with such care she had nourished, when all dangers of his wounds were passed, to be in so faint a case: his colour which eftsoons was like the sanguine rose, is now pale and wan as the lily: his breathing trunk ready to deliver his last gasp: Susania careful and diligent, noting the strangeness of the same, began greatly to marvel thereat, suspecting her self, to be the cause of that grief: like a kind physician careful of her patiented, rubs his temples, and with her tender hand stroked his cheeks softly, sprinkling on them sweet water of roses distilled, and often with her tender lips would lend him many a sweet kiss, bedewing his honey mouth with her milke-warme tears, in this sort bewailing the distressed estate of Andrugio.  
Ye heavenly Gods, by whose divine powers all creatures breath life, what heavy sins hath your handmaid committed against your Deities, that for my sake you show vengeance upon this weak creature, whom (as ye know) I have with all diligence to my uttermost power relieved, since his coming to this homely cottage of my poor Father, in whom I hoped to have been happy by my careful pains for his relief, employed by your assistants for the recovery of his former health, in curing those grievous wounds where with his weak body was afflicted. If your cruelty be such in requital of my charitable mind, or that your vengeance hath not been sufficiently showed to my charge: yet vouchsafe of your Godheads, in whom it consisteth to pardon and punish, to take your heavy hands from this courteous Gentleman, whom you have punished, and let him live to be the comfort of many, which may be comfortless, and such your fury pour upon me, as may free this Gentleman from all displeasure whatsoever.  
Andrugio coming to himseife, and hearing a sound of lamentation, looking up, saw before him the object of his life, and noting her blubbered eyes, which showed her heaviness, and her cheeks besprent with tears, moved to pity her extremity, not knowing it was for his sake, comforted her in this sort.  
Susania the careful minister, next under the Gods, of my life, whose pains have restored my wounded body, whose travails I cannot requite, thanks is the only recompense I can make thee yet, albeit my desire is to perform much more: but with that sacrifice of hearty thanks be the Gods pleased. Then sweet Susania, no less in comfort to thy poor charge, than the Gods, accept thou the same at his hands that grieveth, yea whose soul lamenteth to behold thy wailings, of which I know not the cause: but if there remain in thee that courtesy, as is commonly found in your sex, participate with me of grief, to the end I may to my power requite thee with comfort: for assure thee Susania, there is none under the globe of the celestial firmament, whom my heart hath such desire to honour as thyself. Wherefore my dearest sustainer, if thou hast any affiance in thy charge, speak boldly as to thyself, imagining thou dost commit the secrets of thy sweet breast too thine own heart.  
The old Beldame having some want of her daughter, to be employed in her business, enterrupting their speech by calling her with her shrill voice, caused them to leave their parley for a time.  
Susania being gone (as duty commanded) Andrugio began within himself to call to mind the courtesy, wisdom, and good government of his sweet attendant, entering so far into the labyrinth of love, as he is likely to lose himself, where reason could not suppress will, nor wisdom control affection: somuch hath this lunatic fit distempered his brains, which made him enter into these terms.  
Why Andrugio, what fancy hath bewitched thee? art thou abnost grown to man's estate, and art thou so little master of thyself? If thou do but gaze on a picture, must thou like Pygmalion be in love with it? Canst thou not taste wine except thou be drunk with it? Mayst thou not warm thee without burning? Ah fondling as thou art, know this, Fire is to be felt, not handled: the colour Argicke, poison by nature, may be carried in the hand, but eaten it is death: and beauty first ordained of the Gods to feed man's eye, not to corrosive, the heart, Do not then as the simple fish, swallow the bait that will breed thy destruction: wade not too deep, use beauty, but honour it not, use it as a game for thy pastime, yet swallow it not. But fond fool, knowest thou not that Love is termed of the wise a God, then by reason and duty ought to be obeyed: Love hath commanded the mighty, yea the Gods themselves. jupiter disdaining Cupid's power, resisted him, yet went by the worst, and yielded at length to his power. juno strave with Venus, yet was vanquished. Then strive thou not with a sore so dangerous, lest thou offend the Gods, and endanger thyself.  
Can beauty be resisted which made the Gods to bow? Cupid himself loved Phiches, and thinkest thou to be of greater force? But what fondness is this in thee Andrugio, to dandle thyself in such follies? Thou didst at thy coming from thy father pretend study in the famous city of Sienna, and dost thou now forget that the benefit is great which learning bringeth? Education is more meet for thee than love? Foolish boy, how can the states of thy country think thee sufficient to govern them, that canst not rule thyself? It will be to much for thee to take so great a charge, which canst not master thy affection's. Yet Andrugio, if thou wilt needs love, use it as men use the seeing of Comedies on a stage for recreation, where when thou art weary thou mayest departed at thy pleasure. Then leave to love, but in this sort subdue thine affections: be master of thy mind, so mayst thou laugh at Cupid and his foundlings, and say, thou wast in love, what then?  
He had scarcely finished these words with a sorrowful sigh, when Fortune that blind Goddess, and his sworn enemy hath brought Elanicus a young Noble of Saxony, to the house of the Mister, bound by the command of the Duke to the city of Sienna to seek Andrugio, of whom there came no news at all to the court of his Father since his departure. This Elanicus posting thorough the deserts, was warned by a swain whom he met, to shun the way wherein he road, for that night approached, recountering unto them a most cruel murder committed there by upon certain Gentlemen not passing three months before. This news appalled the heart of Elanicus. For about the same time Andrugio with his company departed: for which cause he entered farther talk with the swain, demanding if he saw the dead carcases of the slain men: if he did, to recount unto him their feature as near as he might, with their apparel. To whom this swain accomplishing his request, in rude manner describing at large to all his demands: the hearing of which so grieved Elanicus, that starsly might he breathe. But removed from his dumps, he inquired how he came to the knowledge of this he had delivered. Sir (quath he) dwelling not far hence, a neighbour of mine came 〈◊〉 unto the place where the murderers had left them: where, by his pains, he recovered one proper Gentleman, the rest being buried as well as we could. Friend (queth Elanicus) sith it hath pleased thee, to acquaint me of friendship, with these tidings, and withal, war●ed me from falling into the hands of those caitiffs, I give thee thanks. And if I may not be tedious unto thee, that thou vouch safe to bring me where this recovered man resteth, I will so satisfy thee, as thou shalt have no cause to complain of losing so much labour. Thus agreeing, the Swain conducted him and his company unto the Miller, where Andrugio rested.  
Elanicus having well rewarded the Swain, bade him farewell, whose sudden entering, the horse put Andrugio out of loves cogitation. Elanicus meeting first with Susania, saluted her as the manner of his country, with courteous congees, beseeching the maiden of so great favour, being a travailer, and night growing on, for his money to to have entertainment.  
To whom Susania, (whose womanly conditions more given by nature then education) answered. Gentleman, what you are I know not: But I understand (good sir) the owner of this silly cottage my father, being from home, I may not boldly presume to give entertainment to any, how willing soever I were to the same, for many causes: and especially, for that I doubt me greatly, you with your accomplices are they, which most unchristianlike slaughtered the Gentlemen of Saxon, as they traveled those deserts. Wherefore, whether you be the same or whatsoever you be, take not discourteously the words of a silly maiden, but while you have time, I beseech you departed elsewhere to provide you.  
Elanicus doubting to have the repulse, began to glory with the maiden, being loath to departed without farther knowledge of Andrugio, and his company: and therefore besought her to take petty on his weary carcase, worn with hard travail in searching for such Gentlemen of Saxon, as by her talk seemed to be dead, protesting unto her in most vehement oaths, that he was a stranger and born in Saxony.  
Andrugio, who had listened to their talk, hearing Elanicus to name Saxony, was so ravished with sudden joy, as he might not stand: recovering himself, could not forbear the presence of his loving countryman, and companion, with whose speech he was sometime acquainted: but leaving his chamber, came to see him.  
Andrugio no sooner entering the place, where Elanicus sat parleying gently with the maiden, who might not in any cause be entreated to entertain him, But being espied of Elanicus, his speech suddenly failed, and his tongue failtred in his mouth, he fell mainly on the shoulders of Andrugio, when passed his trance, he cried out: Ah my Lord, my loving Lord, what destinies have brought you and your company to these extremities? Are the Gods so unjust, that they will suffer your noble blood innocently shed, to go unrevenged? Little knoweth the Duke your father of your hard mishap, yet doubting the worst, hath sent me to Sienna, to know what moved you to keep the tidings of your happy artival to the place of your desire, without writing unto him. But I see the Gods have prevented your noble intent, by suffering your body grievously to be wounded, and your friends to rest in death. Accursed Fortune, who hath no● better provided for you than thus, in the spring-time of your flowering years, to be thus masacred. Yet thanks to the Gods that gave you life: and thanks to your good Physician, whosoever he be, whom if I might know, I will in some sort requite as I may, though not as I would.  
Thanks Elanicus for thy kindness. (quoth Andrugio) But happy had I been if my life might have accompanied my good friends, which it had done, if this my sweet Physician (taking Susania by the hand) had not been, whose cares as they have been great to restore me to health, so will I never forget them, if the Gods permit me life.  
But my Lord (quoth Elanicus) what is your lordships pleasure to do? Doth your strength serve you to bestride a horse? or shall we make some provision of coach to convey you to the Court of your renowned father?  
Ah, no my sweet Elanicus (answered he) if thou love me (as thy pains employed in adventuring thyself for my safety sufficiently witnesseth) counsel me not to return to my Father's Court until I have spent some time in the famous City of Sienna, to perform there, what my heart did desire long time before I obtained licence for the same. Therefore cease to take further cares for me: only employ me with money for my necessary uses, and return with what speed you may to the Duke my father: This night shall you rest with me, where your cates shall not be dainty, homelic, cleanly, and welcome your principal dish.  
Thanks good my Lord, (quoth Elanicus: but think you that I may obtain that favour at your command, which entreating for the same so lately, was so hardly expersed?  
Susania intercepting Andrugio his words, answered, sir, blame not a fearful maiden to doubt the worst, having too great a cause of late to be warned: and to excuse my boldness, let my submission in the humblest wise make satisfaction for my fault, and vouchsafe to accompany your noble countryman, unto whom both the Gods and Fortune (in my opinion) have done great wrong, and myself (a rude maiden) with my aged parents have highly offended, in not giving him the duty to his estate belonging. But I trust he will pardon the fault committed, sith he himself is the principal cause thereof, which would not make himself known but only in this title, a Gentleman of Saxony, yet to such provision as we could make in this wilderness he was welcome, so is yourself if you accept it.  
A million of thanks (courteous maiden) I render thee for thy kindness to this noble man which he hath found, unknown what he was, and therefore the more to be considered: What cause he hath to honour so good an attendant as you have showed to be, for avoiding of flattery I omit.  
Thus passing the night in joy, recountering their old friendship, the next morning early, as Andrugio gave directions, Elanicus leaving behind him horse and money, he hasteneth with all speed to signify unto the Duke what had happened.  
Andrugio feeling now the extremities of his wounds to be passed, imagining the duke would not suffer him farther to adventure himself when tidings should be brought him of his perils escaped, and plight he remained in, not forgetting his affection towards Susania, whose desires the more he sought to suppress, the more his heart was inflamed in love towards her: wherefore he resolutely determining what to do, he waiteth opportunity to disclose his love unto her: which luckily was presently offered. For lo●, Susania in the midst of these determinations, according to her ancient custom, came to see her patiented: wherefore setting all drea● apart, taking his fit time, knowing well that secret furrows do confound the senses, and that lingering in peril is the cause of many insiting miseries, thus boldly he began to batter the bulwark.  
Blush not Susania, that for thy graces, I tell thee I love: For (Susania) Love is in men, and therefore in me. Since therefore to stop the stream doth make the flood more fierce, and to suppress the flame doth make the fire increase: Camomile the more it is trodden, the more it springeth: Wherefore Susania, fearing the flame of my affection shall corrosive my heart, know this, thy manifold virtues have made such an impression in my heart, and the sweetness of thy feature so wounded me, that the blaze of the one and the bounty of the other hath broken the bulwark of my heart, where Love advanceth her Ensign as conqueror and keepeth my heart prisoner, neither will she deliver but only with this ransom, Susania her love. Look therefore my drare Susania upon thy captive, and as thou hast cured the outward wounds of my body, minister that sweet portion to my hurt which my heart desireth: that being healed by the physic of thy affections, I may joy in thee. Looks (men say) are the messengers of love, and outward motions the be ●ra●ers of inward maladies: then cast thine eyes upon the countenance which doth manifest my care, and let thy thoughts penetrate the heart that doth endure calamity. Deem, sweet Susania of my love as of the Salamandar stone, which being once set on fire, will never be quenched: or the Emerald which graceth all other stones, but never looseth his colour: so likewise never determinable shall be the love of Andrugio to his beloved Susania. Then Susania in right consider of my cause according to my care, nothing besides thy bounty can procure my bliss, thy only perfection hath increased my pain: then let thy pity set free my person from peril. The Porcupike that hurteth with his quills makes a salve with his blood, and Aclytes spear trieth an earnest effect of both natures: so likewise it lieth in thee to apply the plaster that inferreth my pain, to minister such physic as may cure my malady. Sith then my life dependeth on thy love, and my danger attendeth your speedy redress, let your courtesy finish my care, and repay my love with his like.  
Susania, poor soul, never used to those loving speeches, and sweet words uttered by Andrugio, was mute to hear so sudden a motion: yet the thought of which tickled a sweet conceit in her, as a portion she could well brook, yet determining to show in full the nature of the female sex, began to spurn at that with her foo●e, which willingly she could have embraced in her heart, resembling the bird Orpyes that hatcheth the Nightingale, yet will feed on her eggs, so doth her heart secretly rejoice to think herself beloved of Andrugio: yet meaning to give him a bitter pill, she ministereth to him this portion.  
My good Lord Andrugio, I humbly beseech you of pardon for my harsh behaviour toward your Lordship passed: but gracious Lord, wherein hath Susania showed herself at any time light of behaviour, that thus you go about to entrap me to the lure of your will? if my duty to my utmost, showed in your weakness, breed lust in your recovering health, I will provide a new nurse for you, and arm myself against the subtle piping of so cunning a Fouler, If your friendship be with your feigning glozes to that end to bewich such ignorant creatures as myself, I must needs get the herb Glozia, a preservative against that malady, and entreat your Lordship to be content with an other attendant: for wisdom it is to beware in time, and warned, provide to escape dangers. If your Lordship had been before put in mind of the murderers waiting to kill you, I doubt whether you would have adventured the place where they awaited you: therefore blame me not to be hereafter advised how I come too near you, and so farewell. Thus as it were in a little chafe she would have departed, but Andrugio staying her, replied thus.  
Sweet Susania, and loving, if thou tender his life whom with pain thou hast nourished so long, do pity me which unfeignedly cra●e it at thy bands. Though Fowler's mean falsehood, Andrugio is faithful. what if many men have pleaded for obtainig of lust the affections of Love? yet blame not Andrugio till trial: if I be false, then let the Gods pour vengeance upon me, or when ANDRUGIO shall seem to change his amorous thoughts of sweet Susania, the object of any life, let fire consume me from the heaven.  
Enough of this my Lord, quoth Susania, except it were to better purpose, for your talk is to no end but to bring a fool to your beck, or at least to see, whether my lightness were such as you suppose it.  
Credit me Susania (answered this loving Lord) let my truth make trial of my faith unto thee: it is not lust but the pure single meanings of love imprinted in my true heart. Therefore sweet comfort of my life, respect thy servant which humbly seeketh thy grace, stand not on terms with me, if thou tender my life, my progeny which I have concealed, is now by fortune revealed, whereby thou mayst be assured it is no disparagement to thee, to yield me love of my affection towards thee, but granting it, shalt thereby increase the reputation of all thy ancestry, whom for thy sake I will invest with titles of calling, for the more honour to thee. I stand, Susania, upon thorns, until I come to Sienna, where my desire hath led me, for fear of being prevented by my father in calling me home again: therefore resolve thee and let me not languish for thy sake, whom thou mayest easily remedy.  
Ah my Lord (quoth Susania) it is a principle amongst Lappidarines, that the smooth stones be soon broken: amongst faylers, where the water is most smoothest, there likest danger: the greenest grass, hideth the most venomous serpent: the stone Granio looseth his virtue, if it be not continually rubbed with gold, powder is no sooner kindled, but it quencheth: mens affection may be compared to the Falcon, that cometh to every full fist, or to the spaniel, that will fawn upon every one that holdeth bread in their hand.  
The stone Quacius freezeth within, when it fryeth without, and sighs may be fetched aswell from the lungs, as from the heart, tears be wrong out of the fingers when men be disposed to fame: know you not that the new wrought dough will receive any impression? Is it possible to take those birds, that hath espied the twigs? no, no: the hawk will never be called to that lure wherein the pens of a Chameleon are pricked, for well I know that the Theop●rate looking at the wolf, i● taken at a pray, and the Porcupike staring on the stars, is overtaken by the dogs, too late comes had I witted, when folly bites upon repentance. Better it is to skip with the lamb, in the sweet field in freedom, then to be companion to the greatest monarch in thraldom: which considered I neither can, as being not governor of myself, nor will yield myself to that yoke which I cannot shake off.  
Stay there Susania, and give me leave to live a while, that am sure to die, when you pronounce denial: let not particular examples prove a full conclusion, though some have been false, all are not faulty, stones (I yield) are to be valued by the virtue, not by the outward view. But Susania, think that stones may be better polished, then unperfected, and the defects of nature, corrected by nature. An Emralde, hath many pernicious properties: but set in gold, is corrected by the virtue thereof.  
Thou Susania, c●st aptly the comparisons: then assure yourself that the Granicke which is black yieldeth a white juice, and the jet burneth best in water. Then Susania commend the perfectness of the sun, although thou gaze at inferior planets.  
Andrugio having thus clerkly discoursed for himself, with a deep sigh sealed his faithful sayings, in such sort that the tears trickled down her cheeks for sorrow to hear him. Which perceived by Andrugio, with many embracings, and loving kisses interchangeably given betwixt them, to both their comforts, desiring pardon of her Lord whom she was loath to offend, she leaveth him with this hope, his courtesy should be remembered: so bidding him ad●ew, betaketh herself unto her lodging, where being solitary, the forces of Cupid's affection began now to flame in this virgin, that forced with the extremity of contrary motions, subdued her heart with such repugnant passions, that she suddenly fell into this process.  
Ah hapless Susania, what motions are these? whither art thou roving with a self conceit, captivated by the laws of affection, proceeding from that blinded God Cupid, and fast 〈◊〉 in his labyrinth? O impatient disease of love, 〈…〉 of love, thrice unpitifull, what strange malady breedeth so great a martyrdom? what intolerable grief doth glut my desires? nay what desperate desire doth breed such intolerable disease. Ah Andrugio, sweet Lord Andrugio, yet ulab not Susania, let thy love hang at thy hearts bottom, not at thy lips brim: things untold are undone, gold boileth best where it bubbleth least. Yea but the flame pressed down, it enforceth smoke: Love that is secretly kept, consumes in sorrow, and the fire of fancy raked up in silence, will both fire the senses, and shrink the sinews. Ah but Susania, the Griphen never spreadeth his wings in the sun, having any sick feathers, and a maiden snared in love doth shame to bewray the same: what then shall Susania live, and lose her beloved to whom she is so dear, as his faithful words, with piteous sighs, bewrayeth? yea, but the Crockidell singeth most sweetest when he meaneth most subtlety: the scorpion biteth most venomous, when he is least suspected: and may not Andrugio, think I, put a dissembling vizard upon his fair face? But suspicious girl, what cause hast thou, to imagine any such thought of him, whose oaths, made in the sight of heaven and the Gods confirm his truth. Blush therefore Susania, at thy folly, and take heed in time, suppress that fancy that maintains this affection, for little sparks may prove great flames, and small twigs grow to tall Cedars. Love is a Lord, who like an ambitious Caesar, that is granted a part, resteth not till he dangereth the whole possession. Knowest thou not that to love, is to live in loss. Remember Susania, men be subtle, and full of deceit, Theseus was false, and Demophon faulty, else had Ariadne been fortunate in her love, and Phillis happy: but what then, because some were faulty, is none firm? pause there Susania, though snow melt, flint is another substance, gall is bitter, yet honey pleasant: therefore measure the condition of all men as they be, and conceive of Andrugio, as of a noble Lord, whose words shows 〈…〉 whose faith is firm yea, but wretched Susania, 〈…〉 noble, thou far inferior to him, whose parents knowing the match, will disdain him for my sake.  
Look not therefore so high, lest some danger befall thee, none gazeth in the sun, but the Eagle. Iccarus presumed to mount into the air, but his climbing cost his life. Andrugio is no fondling, though thou wouldst. wherefore, content thee fondling, and rather die, then endanger either thy friend that loves thee, or thy own credit, which will be crazed, if it be but known the least spark of thy love to Andrugio, people's tongues being so sharpened with slandered arrows. Thus heavily without comfort, bewailing her hard fortune, that God had not made her a match sufficient to link with Andrugio, we leave her to her sorrows.  
Eugenia which hath rested little since his departure from the duke of Saxony, diligently searching Andrugio, whom he found as you have heard by chance, is now arrived in the court of the Duke his master, unto whom he relateth the unhappy adventures of Andrugio, with the death of his company. This heavy news bre● great discontent in the hearts of all courtiers, yea there was not one that shed not tears for their dead companions, bitterly bewailing them, whom they are sure never to see again living.  
The heaviness of the aged duke somewhat overpassed, careful for his towardly son, advising what is best for his welfare, hath determined, for avoiding of succeeding dangers, to post Elanicus again to the place, from whence he came, and with strait charge, not to suffer him to proceed farther in his journey, which had been so unfortunate unto him.  
With this commandment Elanicus is again departed, taking small ease until he came to the miller's house, where he thought to have found Andrugio: but for all his haste the bird was flown ere he could return. Andrugio having thoroughly debated of his love with Susania, is now concluded of the match, so that there is a mutual love, entered both their hearts, in somuch that one of them may not sorrow without great grief to the other, that with much ado he craveth leave for a time to go to Sienna: thus having obtained his desire, recompensing his host for the charge bestowed, taking leave of Susania, his dear beloved, he is departed towards Sienna, leaving the poor maiden grcevously lamenting his absence, whom neither the gentle persuasions of the father, nor care of the mother may mittigat so effectually was love in the heart of this silly maiden, that neither distance of place, nor the threats of the parents, which were many: could any whit prevail, no there was not one day, hour, nor minute, wherein she did not with great abundance of tears bewail the absence of her Andrugio, in this sort.  
Ah Andrugio, sweet Andrugio, let these drops of lukewarm tears shed from the spring of mine overburdened heart, be messengers of my love, and let my woeful playninges show the sorrow of thy poor Susania, Ah Andrugio thy love hath pierced the fort of my true love, and by pitying thee, am I myself caught in that snare, which I fear hath so f●ttered me, as nought but death can lose me: Andrugio, sweet objects of my thoughts, are the only cause of my mourning, rest therefore in peace my dearest friend, and let thy faith remain firm, play not the part of Thesus, now thou art departed, lest worse betide me then Ariadne, Medea: her wretched misery, procured through false jason, may cause all of our sex distrust men.  
But peace Susania, the prating birds may declare thy hard opinion unto thy Lord Andrugio, which being known, may give him cause to abuse thee, cease therefore thy prating miserable wretch, and enjoy thy ●are in court, let thy sighs be messengers of thy good will unto him, study to be pleasant with thy parents, to recover their health impaired for grief of thee, yea learn to be content in sorrow, though thy heart be wounded: hope is a medicine most precious, then apply it, and despair not: Andrugio is honourable, faithful, and kind, whose tears spent in the bitterness of his sorrows, and many oaths protested, to cause me grant him favour, I am sure shall never be violated. wherefore wretched Susania, test thee content in this hope for a time: when thou shalt hear more of thy best beloved Andrugio, with this falling into a sweet s●●mber, ease to her grieved heart we leave her.  
Time hath brought Elanicus unto the place where he supposed to have found the Lord Andrugio, who doubting that which ensued, loath to be detained from his desire, is now gone to Sienna, whose departure Elanicus bewaileth, accusing him of ungratefulness to his friend, disobedience to his father, whose favour he no more extenued, but to add more sorrow unto his aged heart through this l●wd departure against all promises at their last taking leave each of other. Elanicus hot on the spur to see Andrugio, and to bring him to the duke, maketh short stolen, but departeth never resting until he had found him in the beautiful City of Sienna, unto whom having delivered the pleasure of his father, Andrugio returneth this answer.  
It is not unknown unto thee, my swerte Elanicus, what earnest suit I made before I obtained grant of my father, for this journey, and how long before he would consent to the same: wherefore, my good friend, let it not seem any thing discontent unto thee, that I refuse to hear thy message and obey it, I trust my father knowing before this my mind will be the better satisfied, and pardon my presumption for this offence in breaking his commandment: for doubtless, resolved I am not yet to return, until I have seen the manners of this honourable place, so much commend in ●ll princes courts.  
Elanicus when he heard Andrugio his mind, and saw-that is was as easy to carry back the whole city, as dissuade him being there, was sorrowful at the heart, yet hoping to persuade him, replieth.  
Gracious Lord, how tender your welfare is unto me, my soul bear witness, neither will Elanicus ever offer to speak, but for thy benefit: moved thereunto by zeal and duty both to the Duke and you. Stand not therefore (Andrugio) upon these terms of disobedience to your father's command, for the hearing of your contrary answer how kind soever, will cost his life: yea, the very remembrance of your disobedience, whom he so carefully loveth, will bring his white head with sorrow to his last home. Again, my gracious Andrugio, if nature and the Gods call him to the heavens, where all our hopes be to rest, you being absent, in what estate shall your country stand? Soue●anitie is a vild worm, and such a bait as will make many aspiring minds in the absence of their Sovereign to revolt, especially they being of power, when once for fear of tumults planted in thy country they be not easily displaced: so mayst thou be cozened of thy government, and by treason unhappily done to death. Again, thy father hardly digesting thy harsh demeanour, may disinherit thee, and so leave thee to thy fortune. Many other casualties there be, more than the sorrows of my heart will permit me to utter: let it therefore suffice that my words spoken of the tender ʒeale of my heart may remove thy fond determination, so mayst thou keep the good will of thy father, preserve his life, and enjoy thy country and friends. Tears would not suffer him to speak what he had to say: wherefore constramed, he ceaseth his parley.  
All the speeches Elanicus could use, was bootless, neither was his counsel regarded more, then of a child which hath no understanding. So bend was this colt to take his race for a time, and therefore besought Elanicus to persist from persuading him farther, for he was resolved not to return suddenly, if all the kingdoms of the earth lay thereon.  
Elanicus faithful to his Lord and master, and kind to Andrugio, when as he perceived how he was be●t, and that it was as easy for him with the Osterich to swallow iron, or with his nails to crash hard flint, as with his words to win him to his desire and cause him to return: with a heart as heavy as Hero for loss of her Leander, after he had uttered in mild terms his faithful mind, taking leave of Andrugio, returneth to the court of Saxony, leaving him to his own will for a time.  
Who in the university hath planted himself to study, and was in short time grown into great familiarity with divers young gentlemen: amongst others, with whom he used daily to frequent, Galastina, son unto the Duke of Milan, and be became most conversant, from whose company (so mutual was their love, and their liking so great one to the other, that they might never be simdred, night nor day. No, never was the love of Damon to his Pithia, nor Pylidies to his Orestes more firm than Andrugio to his Galastina, for one heart united them, and one purse they used between them  
But yet absence, which is the greatest enemy to his former desires, being so far sundered from his Susania, hath not power to put her out of mind, but ever in the midst of his mirth would he call to mind his dear love, and often with a sigh rehearse her name, saying, Susania, sweet and constant Susania. So often he used this, so that in the end Galestina desirous to know what dame she was of whom by day he talked so much, and in the night dreamt of, was so unportunate on him, as he might not hide the flame no longer, of which so great smoke was seen, and therefore Galastina broke with him on this manner and fashion.  
Andrugio, now my second self, whose welfare I esteem as mine own, and according to the duty of a friend, regard thy friendship as my life.  
I have noted ever since thy coming to Sienna, amongst all thy mirth, how suddenly it hath been overshadowed with sighs and fantastical speeches tending to love, as thy passion describeth: If it be so my Andrugio, thou art entered into the most intricate labormth that can be, and such as exceed the capacity of men to conceive, such a worm is it as I greatly fear thy health: yea, and without content shortly thy life. For doubtless to love is not tolerable especially, where the love is absent. Besides, it hath many defects, as if thy love be sctled on a Dame full of disdain, who regardeth thee not. If she be poorer than thy degree doth require, then is she loath some to thy kindred, how pleasing soever she be to thee. Love they say is a commander, and of the common people termed a God, & honoured with glorious titles, yea, some are so besotted in planting their love, that they reap for their best fruit endless misery, or prevent it by untimely death, from which the Gods preserve thee my Andrugio.  
But sweet friend, if thou wilt be advised by him who is as dear in respect as mine own heart, listen as little to Venus' allurements, as I do to Cupid's flatteries, so shalt thou have no cause to say the Gods be unjust, nor women cruel: for I think of Love, as Gnato the Greek did, who was wont to say, that of all plagues wherewith mortal men are aff●iced, love was the greatest, for that they earnestly desired that for their comfort, which they found their mortal death.  
Andrugio having listened to Galastina his oration could not well tell how to digest his speech, yet after a small pause taken, answered.  
Why Galastina, dost thau count it madness to love, or him besotted that yieldeth unto affection: Knowest thou not or art thou so fond as not to know, that Love is divine, and can command by his power? Who subdued the hearts of invincible warriors, whom Fort could withhold, no Force withstand, and who subdued the whole world but love? Alexander, Hercules, Scypio●, and many others have subjecteth them to love. Therefore think not as the Greek did, that love is a plague, lest thou die an heretic, believe he is favoured of the Gods that is an happy Lover.  
In faith no (quoth Galastina) for I count him most unhappy which is in love most happy.  
Why then Galastina, thou thinkest him unhappy that loveth.  
or else (quoth he) I should think amiss. Should I think him happy, which for one penny of coin ceceyved at his need, shall lie shut up in prison all days of his life? Or for one dram of prosperity, reapeth a whole pound of misery? Shall I esteem him happy in love, whose golden gain proves leaden grief? No, that is neither pleasure which is interlaced with pain, nor that happiness which turns to loss.  
Why then Galastina (quoth Andrugio) dost thou thus blaspheme against Cupid and his sweet mother? and esteemest thou so lightly of love, which is so great a commander.?  
Because (quoth he) it is Love, and is such a poison, which infecting the minds of men, entereth as pleasant as Nectar the drink of the Gods, but proveth more vytter than the juice of wormwood: for as the Mermaid bewitcheth hearers with her sweet music, until they be iulled asleep therewith, and so they fall into some danger. so amorous lovers have their senses besotted with the frantic passions of this Idol Love, that they account not themselves happy, but in their most unhappiness, being at most ease in their disquiet: at greatest rest when they are most troubled, seeking their pleasure in care, hunting continually after that, that bringeth endless harm and destruction unto them, as I have many examples David and Samson, in holy writ, Hercules, and Leander in profane histories, and many more which I omit, wishing thee, my good Andrugio (if thou desire the favour of so poor a friend as myself and thine own quiet) to persist from love otherwise, it will breed thy confusion.  
This is your harsh censure Galestina: but die not herein neither stand long upon those terms, for if you do, Venus is angry at your blasphemy, will indite you as an heretic, both to nature and herself, and so plant you one day, for you-disdaine in love, as you shall have cause to lament, whilst you leave your hard fortune: but for this time I am content to give over this argument, lest that my follies in praising love, as thou sayest, should make the more earnest in envying against that sweet goddess, & so cause thy punishments to fall the sooner. For Ladies by kind, the more they are grieved, the sooner they seek revenge of their enemy, of which number Venus accounteth the one to her Godhead.  
My speeches, Andrugio, is no more than my heart thinketh, as should be apparent, if that foul goddess (as thou tearmost her) were present: for I doubt lest her foreces in love, to inflict me with having always reason, which shallbe of force sufficient to expel from my heart, that frantic humour love, in despite of the goddess, and her blind son. But lest we being friends become focs thorough this sound argument, we will for this time cease our parley.  
The fire of love, raked in the heart of Andrugio, began now to flame, insomuch that his only care was how to attain the sight of his beloved Susania, as well to satisfy at full his mind, which often doubted of her welfare, as also to participate with her, in familiarity.  
Wherefore, after many determinations, which way he might with most credit accomplish the same: thoroughly now resolved, without taking leave of his friend Galastina or acquainting other with his pretence, hearing of a small ●●rke, which was ready to pass from Sienna near where his love sojourned, he secretly enbarqueth him for the same journey. But see how this cruel enemy fortune envying the towardness of this brave Gentleman, cammaunding Aeolus as her vassal, when as this bark was mid seas, of the port of his desire, pleasantly cutting the silver waves with a gentle gale, and each man for his recreation betakes himself unto those pastimes, best him liked, for the beguiling of time, sodamly might they hear a grievous blustering of wind, which came of a main tearing the waves before it, in which cruel tempest, the split of their main sail, struck over board their main mast, and with much ado by the providence of him that preserveth all, and the good industry of their comfortable master, they escaped the danger of drowning. A whole night thus spent in meditation to God for their delivery, no sooner-came the dawning of the day, when their watch espied a sail, and called unto the company for joy, hoping of some comfort, they man'd their ship each one censuring what the ship should be: at length they might perceive, though a far off, her ordinance all made ready and put out, as if she were presently minded to fight, this being perceived, the master called his company together, acquainting him what he thought, and besought their counsels in the cause if need should be, whether they should fight, or yield unto their mercy. These speeches of the masters appalled wondrously the company, so that suddenly they might not answer to his demand: At length Andrugio, as one showing by outward signs, the nobleness of his heart, when he had long expected the answers of the company, began to say.  
Loving master, whose courage showeth you to be a man able to govern your charge, in whom now under God dependeth our welfare, or receive what danger soever happen, God and your help withal, we will be partakers with you: if they be friends, let us entreat their favour, for our relief in this extremity, for that we need it, if they contrary to our expectation abuse us, every man resolve to lie rather than submit ourselves to such we know not: myself, albeit young, and never have tried the force of my 〈◊〉 jointed arms, shall by industry encourage the rest of you to do your endeavour. An honourable death is always to be preferred before an ignominious life: resolve therefore with me, & master, whose charge we are all under God, swear every man to that is said, so shall we be sure every man for himself, to perform what you pretend.  
Then master noting the courage of Andrugio, whose feminine face showed him fit for a chamber, than a field, commended highly his forwardness, imagining with himself, that albeit he took not upon him the worthiness of his birth, nor claimed the place fitting his degree, yet doubtless was descended of some noble progeme. And in requital of his valour shown, to make him add more courage to his invincible heart, he elected him their captain, commanding all the company to use him accordingly, and to be ruled by his directions, of whom he was persuaded to be valiant, discreet, and well governed.  
Andrugio called to this honour, bethought him of his charge, which unwillingly he had received by the importance of the master & his company, yet as the shortness of time would permit him, gave directions more fit for an old captain, than a novice following the counsel of such ancient soldiers, which he had red, to the great admiration of his company, and encouragement of them all.  
By this time their enemies, (as they proved to be) were within hailing, where a couple of desperate villains, not regarding the miseries of those distressed creatures, whose ship they saw so beaten with fortimes storms, in the top of their ship waved them with their bright sword amain, their Trumpets sounding likewise distant unto them, bearing still upon this distressed company which were not a little grieved to see that offered unto them, fearing greatly that which after happened.  
Andrugio, our young captain, when he perceived their intentes, knowing their forces to be weak, and not able without the providence of God to withstand them, 〈◊〉 ought it most fittest to put in proof the policy of which they had determined then to fight it out with handy strokes, persuading himself of the best, commanded all the ●●mpanie to bestow themselves under hatches, and with those few, small shot they had, and other hand weapons at their boarding to apply upon advantage their prince fights, plaring in divers corners under their decks, barrels of powder, ready to fire if need should be, and so to procure the end of their enemies with their own, by blowing them over board.  
The accursed pirate, being come within shot, discharged a minion upon them, maugre their ship with th●se ●ake-shames they had aboard, whose gri●ly looks showed them like devils, so black and ugly were their countenances with long keeping the seas, that for all this Andrugio, would not 〈◊〉 of his company to appear, but only himself, and one more, or two with him to help to take in such small sail as they had, as presently they did.  
By which, the Pirate assured him of the ship with such goods as was in her: Thus making all speed they might, as desirous to know what they were, and what wealth they had, making no reckoning to be resisted, grappled their ship with the unfortunate bark of Andrugio, and desperately entered, dnubting nothing of that which happened. When Andrugio saw them all aboard, by giving his watchword to the ambush under the forecastie, they presently gave fire to their powder: the forc● of which, carried both deck and men overboard: The Pirates insinated at this sudden mischief, were wonderfully perplexed: yet as men dreading neither God nor devil, they persisted most terribly in their actions, threatening vengeance to Andrugio, who gave his other sign and blew up both mast and all the waste of the ship, where by he was almost 〈◊〉 of his bad 〈…〉 in this sort all their powder, and his ship freed from those oppressing villains, when they thought themselves sure, and to have ●aid aboard the Pirates ship, with such men as he had in his company, an other small Pinnisse waiting on this ship had recovered them, which for 〈…〉 se●ne, and approaching near the Bark 〈◊〉 Andrugio, seeing so small stirring, made reckoning that their comforts were rifling their prize, and desirous to have part of what they should find, stood not demanding question●s, but boarded them also: in the entering of which, Andrugio ●lew their Captain, to the terror of his enemies which looked for no resistance. But all in veins was their proceedi●gs, for his men with blowing the powder were either fore hurt or slain, so that perforce he was compelled to y●●lde himself. These 〈◊〉 now being master of this weather beaten Bark, and saw what spoke those small company had made, their companions were grievously vexed, and greatly threatened Andrugio with bitter torments for his valour showed against them, and especially for the death of those Captains their governors.  
Andrugio thus in the hands of those people, of whom he earnestly besought favour could hardly be permitted life, such was their cruelty in revenge of their captains death whom they lost in boarding Andrugio his Bark: yea, they had examined to be the cause of their resistance, was more than for all the rest: yet as great as their fury was, behold when as many tormenting deaths and most bitter were called to mind, and none thought bitter enough for him, pity moved the heart of one gracious fellow of some account amongst them, to compassion, who noting the mild countenance of Andrugio, and considering his valour, earnestly besought his company for his sake, to forbear the execution of their cruelty towards him in bereaving the life of this young prince: which with much ado was granted him.  
Thus at the intercession of thos● 〈◊〉 w●s Andrugio his life preserved to greater extremities, for sweeter had death been unto him, if they had showed their cruelty then life, for that he was marked in his birth unfortunats as the story shall show you.  
Well, those cursed true having most violently handled such as remained alive in the ship, commanded Andrugio to be as hardly entreated as might be, oppressing his body with cruel afflictions too much for any to induce, yet could his noble mind never 〈◊〉 to entreat for pardon: albeit they should have carved his flesh from his 〈◊〉 with their meat knife's, or with 〈…〉 have nippe● the same away. To which his 〈◊〉 courage, his ancient friend that had saved his life, gave good notice, and ●ued his case, but could not redress him, neither show any more favour unto the Gentleman than he did, yet as opportunity was offer ●● when his ●acking 〈◊〉 were at play, or otherwise busied, he would vifite him, and comfort him as well as he could.  
But so long continued, this good thief his familiarity towards him, that in the end Andrugio confessed unto him, of what parentage he was descended, and how fortune in this time of his youth had continually dealt with him, omitting nothing: which lamentable oration of his overheard, with promise made, when God should to send them to any harbour to release him, It was presently carried to such as was chiefest amongst them in commission, for as yet they had appointed no captains of their ships.  
The reporter of this news had scarcely finished his tale, when furiously and in great rage they commanded Andrugio and his friends to be brought unto them: the miscreants descanting the mean while, of such cruelty as they should both receive.  
No sooner came these unhappy men before those merciless bloodsuckers, bend to begin their torments, they caused them to be hoist to the yard arm, and so drenched in the seas, at which their miseries they took exceeding delight: By this this time to aggravat their misery they had devised to strip them naked, and every man with a cords end as they pass them, turning round the capstone to deal such strokes upon their bare carcases as they could with pity of heart, either for cruelty of increasing their pain, bestow on them: or of compassion favour them. But the Gods that yield comfort in extremity, looking on those afflicted persons, preserved them from this punishment: For behold, as they were in stripping them, they espied a fleet of Galleys at sea, which in the calm made such speed to them as they might not escape by any means: wherefore they commanded Andrugio with his companion to the bilbowes, & themselves to determine for defence against their enemies, whom they might easily perceive, now pretending to have some saying to them, and to repay their bloody tyranny used, with the like.  
Time hath brought those descried fleet within little more than a league, so that they might easily discern them to be Galleys belonging to the governors of Trypolie, of which place those villains had wronged many, and therefore their fear began the more to increase, doubting that if they fell into their hands, as they did not know how to withstand them, their cruelty used to others would be repaid: wherefore like friends that in many mischiefs had ventured together, they resolutely determine to die and live together, and so preparing themselves with those few, Andrugio had lift them, to be in readiness, ordering their fights with the best policy they could: they scantly had finished what they would have done, when a cannon shot coming from one of those Galleys, struck their main mast by the board, and so beat their ship with shot, with the loss of divers of their company, that in vain they resisted: wherefore spreading their flag of truce in their missen top, They committed themselves to mercy of those, with whom there is no mercy at all.  
When the smoke of the pieces was cleared, and that they saw there came no more shot from the ship thinking before they had lost her: espying their slag of truce, the Captain of the Viz-admyrall commanded the Helms-man to fall too and board her, where finding those brave mates that had spoiled many, now in this conflict to stand as mute as silly sheep before a wolf, entreating hardly for their lives which could not be granted them, yet bound back to back, they left them lying on the hatches, until they had ransacked the Ship, searching in every corner, and took the spoil.  
Where finding our comfortless ANDRUGIO, and his pitiful companion, miserably wronged in those iron Fetters, taking them to be prisoners to those cruel and bloody Pirates, and such as had been wronged by them, commanded that they should be released from their captivity, and to be brought before the Admiral, which was presently done.  
Andrugio for all the torments he had been afflicted with, could not be compelled to make himself known: but being by the admiral examined, what he was, and how he fell into their hands: told him that he was a passenger in a small Bark whom they had spoiled both of goods and men, and that none of his company remianed alive, but himself only.  
The admiral noting the courage of the prince, commanded that he should be brought with his fellow prisoner aboard his own Galley, requiting the cruelty of the rest as they had deserved: for being bound back to back, heaved overboard, ending their lives in blood as they had lived, Having taken such spoils as those Pirates had aboard, they s●●ed the ship and fell to the Sea, seeking more adventures.  
Having thus some leisure to debate of things passed, the General called to mind Andrugio and his mate, who were not 〈…〉 grieved to think what misery they were like to come to being fallen into the hands of those merciless and unhallowed people of whom there was no hope of favour at all.  
As the general commanded, they were brought before him, of whom he diligently inquired of what country they were, and how they chanced to their hands, who kept them captive. To whom Andrugio hoping of favour, declared that he was borne in the Duke of Saxons country and being a student in the university of C●silia, as he was minded to see his father being a poor gentleman of that country, was surprised with those pirates, which had dealt with them, and his company, as himself had before heard.  
The general for his own part hearing him make his lamentable complaint, might well have showed himself a pitiful gentleman, and have released Andrugio. But fortune haling on ●ore miseries upon him, the only author that must pl●●e her miserable comedies: gave notice to the captain of another Galley, who was a vowed enemy to the Duke of Saxony, and all his country, which came presently a board the Admiral, and beg him for his prisoner, which might not be denied, carrying him away from his friendly company to his more grief, and chained him with the foremost ore, next his cabin, that he might have the overseeing of his labour and punishment himself, of whom this miscreant took no compassion at all, But joyed when he saw the Booteswayn's, bestow his cruel alms with a r●pes end on his naked skin: yea and often would cause him without any cause to be grievously beaten: thus the space of one whole 〈◊〉 endured this young prince: his captains rigour, at which times grievous storms opposed the whole fleet of Galleys, that they were enforced to put into harbour, and hardly escaping the peril of drowning, yet recovering with much trouble their desired port, the captain not unmindful of Andrugio, commanded him a shore, and where the other slaves had liberty, commanded him to be shut close within a most dark and loathsome dungeon, into the which entered no manner of light, where he sorrowed and sighed most lamentably, exclaiming on fortune, and cursing the time wherein he first made motion of parting from his princely father, which found him dearer than his own life. Thus four months (too long a time for people in such extremity) passed in serable Andrugio in most grievous adversity, having scarce clothes to hide his secrets of nature, and no other sustenance, but the great bolting of barley meal, mingled with water, which was not all times of the best, yet in the midst of all which misery, Cupid a confederate, with his sworn foe fortune, began to remove his thoughts with that fresh remembrance, of his dearest and most beloved friend Susania, for whose sake in going to see her, more dearer than his life unto him, his misery began: the remembrances of whom in the extremest anguish of his misery, bred such sweet comfort, that there was no hour, yea sleeping or waking wherein he ceased to call upon the name of his dear mistress and comfort of his life Susania, sometime exclaiming on fortune for her cruelty against him, other while, making his orisons, to Venus for favour, that by the virtue of her godhead, she might so work with her son Cupid, that where it should please the giver of all comfort to free him from that captivity, he might once enjoy the sight of his so long desired Susania.  
Lo thus passing his misery in the most patientest fort that he might, the omnipotent Creator to show thereby his glory, and to make Andrugio feel the favour of his sweet and gracious hand, when this filthy dungeon, the place of his miserable lodge, had so weakened his corpses, with short diet, and most loathsome funels, and that past hope of ever seeing any creature, but the barbarous hard hearted and pitiless villain his jailor, lo there, behold how sweet a comfort on the sudden unexpected unto him happened.  
The emperors daughter, Princes Guyrdania, wh betrothed unto the Barbarian king, accompanied with many states of great honour, with the kings of Denmark, and Sweathland, who for honour of the marriage, as also for the ease of the aged Emperor, accompany this princes, were all by weather most grievously seabeaten, and the ship where the two kings and princes were, hardly escaped the danger of splitting.  
But after this most grievous storm, putting into the port of Tripolia. They had no sooner anchored their ships, but presently they dispatched ambassadors to the governor, making themselves known unto him, with entreaty, for the princes, who hardly brooking her last danger, surprised with the fear of death, and weak with their long beating at sea, was very evil at ease, for whom their desire was, to have entertainment.  
This known to the governor, no less courtesy, then honourable, he assembling the chiefest captains, & Burgurs of the City, and with their most convenient speed prepared themselves towards that place of the harbour where this weary beaten ship anchored, when showing themselves on the shore in the sumptuous manner they could upon so short warning, they dispatch● Ambassadors to the kings, willing him to declare their pleasures unto them in this sort.  
That whereas they had so hardly escaped the danger of shipwreck, and by God's providence unexpected of them, had fortuned into that place, a City far unable to give such entertainment, as there estates required, yet how welcome they were unto them, as unto the subjects of their gracious sovereign, and their highness friends to their utmost power it should be shown. And farther, that they being principal under their sovereign, attended with reverend duty their highness coming to the shore, to conduct them unto their lodgings, which in the best manner was preparing for their entertainment.  
When the Ambassador had declared this answer from the governor. The two kings very glad thereof, expected the same with thanks: and giving order for the landing of their train, with such necessaries as was aboard of provision, they besought the princes to be ready with them, to go a shore, where these honourable and worshipful governors of the said City, attended their coming, with all their ladies in their coaches, to welcome the Princes, at whose meeting, the courteous welcomes, with the favourable thanks returned from these princes, I omit: but with great honour and welcomes from all estates, as well the poor as the best, they were conveyed to their lodging, which was in the kings own palace within the walls of the same City, where reposing themselves, I leave them to their solace for a time.  
When these noble princes, had over passed their weary toil and hard travail without some ease taking, than began the nobles of this City, to devise some pastimes, as well to recreate their minds, which were given to melancholic for loss of their ships, of whom they heard no news: amongst which, the captains gathering their men together, rigged and furnished a dozen galleys and pinnasses to the sea, with intent to show their manner of fight and sea skirmishes, to which services, was Andrugio and his fellow pirate called, to take their places at an oars end, as before they had done.  
When all things was provided for this pastune, the princes having taken place to behold the same: in which fight after a little time, the galley wherein Andrugio was, being by another taken, his captain, aswell to show what extremitte they used to those they vanquished, as to grieve the body of Andrugio, caused him to be stripped, and most grievously to be whipped, and after, by the arms with two great waits at his toes, hanging, to be drawn up to the yard arm, where, when he had hanged, that all men pitied him saving his merciless captain, at the cry of the people was at length let down. But to aggravate still his extreme grief and torment of body: the Captain (as one bend to seek his utter destruction, provided yet a more greater torment both bitter and cruel: for lo, when time had brought their pastimes to end, This merciless tormenting Captain, invited all the Captains to a banquet aboard his Galley: at the end whereof, he caused Andrugio to be cased in the raw hide of a new slain wolf, which with the shipdogges from every Galley, baited him beastlike, in such manner, that they had like to have wearied him, sometimes tearing his arms and legs, otherwhile the other parts of his body, which cruelty of the dogs, vexing poor Andrugio, bred such content to the barbarous villain, that his heart was more joyed with the sight thereof, than if he had received a noble victory against his enemies: such deadly hatred had the cruel tyrant conceived against Andrugio.  
At this banquet there chanced to be a noble man of the train of the Princess Gurdania, whose heart pitying Andrugio so much that he could not endure the sight of his extremities: but turning his head from that which the barbarous people took delight in, he secretly inquired what he was that was so hardly used above the rest of those slaves. these questions of the noble man was demanded by chance of the pirate before taken with Andrugio, who being a fair welspoken man, and of good demeanour, recounted at large unto this noble man Andrugio his torments, & besought him, that as he was a gentleman, to take compassion on his misery, and buy him for money, or by some other means to work his delivery: for that if he remained amongst them, this would every day be their use until God by death shall think good to end his sorrows, albeit he was in his Country a Gentleman of good name and honourable reputation.  
The noble man moved with pity and compassion at the Pirates ruthful tale, thought every minute of an hour a day, until he might come to the presence of those two kings and the Princess, which he might not do that night: Wherefore in the morning awaiting earnestly to bring his desire to effect, he was brought before them, unto whom he recounted the grievous sight he had seen, and how much it troubled his mind, and grieved his heart to think that ever Christian should endure such misery. Where, in the most earnest manner that he could, besought the Princess and the Kings of Denmark and Swethland to procure his freedom, either by entreaty, or for ransom, at his charge, to what some soever it amounted.  
The princes hearing this doleful discourse, moved to pity his misery, sent for the governor, and besought him, that as their welcomes had been great, and their entertainment exceeding, so they might crave his friendship in a suit they had to impart unto him.  
The Governor glad to content those princes with all the favours he might, did not only by his word assure what they desired, but deeply swore they should obtain what they craved: holding himself highly in their favour, that they would demand any thing that lay in him to perform, beseeching to know what their suit was.  
The princess thanking him for his kindness, and favour, told him that their suit was for the liberty of a slave, a poor man, and what ransom he would demand, he should have with thanks.  
My gracious Lords (quoth the Governor) not one, but all the prisoners and slaves in this place shall be at your highness command: and therefore I humbly beseech you to let me know his captains name, and the person, and he shall presently be sent for.  
The noble man whose desire was to have Andrugio his liberty, very glad to hear his suit grow to so good effect, gave thanks to the governor, describing unto him what he was, and in what Galley, but his name he could not remember, which by the especial notes given, was well known unto the Governor, who with all speed dispatched one of his servants for Andrugio, commanding that he should be brought unto his lodging, which presently was accomplished. Whom when the governor saw, he demanded of what calling and country he was, and how long he had served in their Galleys. To whom Andrugio answered: by birth (noble Lord) I am a Saxon, of reputation a Gentleman, and passing the seas, was most unfortunatelye taken prisoner by the Fleet of Galleys that last served against the king of Spain's forces. This fourteen months have I endured most miserable servitude and grievous punishments by my unmerciful and rigorous Captaines-command.  
When the Gonerall had heard him, commanded his man that he should be clothed in a fair suit of apparel of his own, and so presented him to the Princess, unto whom he was very acceptable:  
Thus when Andrugio by the appointment of the Gods had remained a while at liberty, and that the princes had well reposed themselves, provision was made for their departure unto the Barbarian King, of whom they were expected long, by reason of some of their Fleet arriving in his country. all things being ready for them, a fair gale blowing, they take their leaves of the Governor, whom they reward with great and bountiful presents, with much courtesy and thanks for their royal entertainment, the which they vowed should never be forgotten. And so bidding them farewell they embarked themselves for their pretended journey, with whom also departed Andrugio, attending upon the Lord jeronymy, who had released him.  
Thus by the providence of the highest, Andrugio was from the misery he endured delivered, and in great favour of the Lord jeronymy his master, unto whose government he committed all his affairs, who so well behaved himself, that he was in great account of his Lord and loving master.  
Their business and honourable marriage of the emperors daughter accomplished, and the kings with their trains safely returned to their own country, Andrugio highly in favour of his Lord, gained so the love of all the people, that none of the retinue of his Lord, was held in such account of all estates, as well of Nobles and Gentlemen of the country, as the inferior sort. It fortuned, this Lord Ieronymie having one only sister, wise, beautiful, and well governed, hearing such general commendation of Andrugio, and amongst the rest her brother so highly to commend him in all places, and at all times, so that his common talk was ever to the credit of Andrugio, which noted in the young lady Messeliva, (for so was she called) her affection began to increase towards him in such wise, that from a small spark, the fire of fancy began to grow to a great flame, and her chief and only delight was in beholding of her best beloved Andrugio: yea, her thoughts were so settled upon him that in the night she dreamt of him, and in the day he was never out of her remembrance, in so much that this passion increasing, she began to grow into great extremities, evermore devising what means she might best work to make her love known unto him: now casting this doubt, than another, so that in no sort she might settle her thoughts how to bring her desires to effect, in such manner as she might be void of suspicion to the world, and acquaint Andrugio with her secret loves towards him, having not any friend of familiarity to be advised by, but her waiting woman, of whose trust and fidelity in such a weighty cause she was not assured of. Yet notwithstanding arming herself with hope, the only comfort of the distressed, she resolveth with herself a little while longer to bear it out, hoping that time and her courtesy used towards him, might cause him to crave that which she could willingly, and with all her heart offer him.  
Andrugio on the top of his pleasure, leading a life free from all encumbrances of body, yet could not forget the love he bore his Susania, which how often he called to mind, the more began his sorrow: yea such desire he had to see his best beloved, that his whole study and continual care was how to accomplish the same, in doubt of every occasion that might hinder his determination. Thus between doubtfulness, and despair, lived this young prince discontented, that he took no pleasure in keeping any kind of company at all. Such was his honourable mind, with dutiful allegiance, tied by the link of faith unto his Lord, who had freed him, that he durst not for fear of denial, make any request for his favour therein: and to go of his free-will, he thought it villainy to requite with such ingratitude, so honourable a man, that loved him as his own. Well so long continued those passions, abiding such grievous torments of mind, that his lively colour began to wax pale and wan: yea his blood which was fresh, and well beseeming, dried, and his body grown with continual grief into a feign sickness, insomuch that his alteration, was noted of all, lamented of many that did know him, but especially of the noble Lord Ieronimie, and his sister Messalina, who continually noted every sight, and would oftentimes demand the cause of his sorrow, which by no means they could use, he would discover. But Lord Ieronimie, as one careful of his well doing, would never be satisfied with such answers as Andrugio would give, nor allow his excuses for truth: wherefore taking him one day into the fields of purpose to solace, they spent their time in walking, pleasantly discoursing until the Lord Ieronimie coming to a pleasant meadow, bedecked with nature's ornaments as much as they had seen, which viewing, they both censured of the beauty of the field, one commending the delightful smell of flowers, the other the situation of the place, which was most excellent, near unto the edge of one side running a most pleasant crystal stream, which bubbling over, the round Poples gave a sweet noise to the hearers upon the side whereof was growing a row of most exceeding fine poplar trees, which overshadowed the place, as it was most pleasant.  
This place above the rest that they had chanced on, Lord Ieronimie those to solace himself in, as also fit for his purpose: wherefore, commanding Andrugio to sit down by him, like a loving kind Lord he began to participate with Andrugio, in this wise.  
Andrugio, mine own Andrugio, I have long sought fit opportunity, to have secret conference with thee, and having found place and time for the same, be not moved, that I grow into those speeches, which I have to use, considering that they bespoken of love, and not maliciously. First my Andrugio, which I have to say unto thee is this, I have since our coming from the marriage of my liege the emperors daughter, noted many a sad and heavy countenance in thee, which I know argueth a discontented mind, proceeding as my conjecture assureth me of love: now Andrugio, as I freed thee from the bondage of the turks unknown, if there be any such cause, fear not to make it known unto me. I have vowed to pleasure thee all that I may, stand not therefore on nice terms, but let me know the dame whom thou hast made choice of, to govern thy affections, and if I seek not all possible means for thy hearts content, accuse me ever of dishonour, and hold me the most wretched vile creature on the earth.  
Andrugio hearing this discourse of his Lords, which he least looked for, could not well on the sudden tell how to answer, for that he was not assured whether he spoke upon surmise, or that he had some secret knowledge of his love to Susania, yet thinking to hazard his credit with Lord Ieronimie, he answereth.  
My gracious Lord, what humble thanks my heart rendereth for so great favours, my tongue cannot declare. But gracious Lord, where fortune hath placed an extraordinary want, their will shall supply the defects of wealth, & loyalty perform that which my mean ability can never put in practice, The tree that bringeth forth no fruit, is good for fuel, and stones are not to be valued by an outward view, but an inward virtue, Prometheus did construe well of the works of Lycias, and I hope my gracious Lord will not misconstrue the will of Andrugio, but rather, to cast an eye to my secret willingness, then to look for merits which I cannot manifest: what I find noble Lord by experience, the time and place forbids me to participate lest I be accused of flattery, yet what I conceive, I leave to your honourable conjecture, which I cannot any way decipher: only this always account, Andrugio is your dutiful and loyal servant until death, which he hath vowed by the true band of friendship, never to violate: Thus finding in myself, a will that shall never waver, a faith unfeigned, and a life vowed to perpetual loyalty. Hoping that as Protagenes was excused for his unperfect pictures, by doing what he could, so also shall I find your lordships favour, since I promise the performance of any thing I may.  
But my good Lord, touching your demand, I beseech you think thus, that if there were any thing which disturbed my quiet of heart, I should above all, for many considerations acquaint your Lordship with the same, but love as your Lordship censured, it is not but as I can best conceive of mine own grief, a melancholic passion, naturally proceeding of desire, to see my native country, my prince and friends to whom it is altogether unknown what is become of me, whether I live or rest with death, Besides my good Lord, I live here a mere stranger in high favour, reaping the benefit of your honourable countenance, more than any man, which as I am stranger, may make me dread, the spite of some one or other, envying your Lordship's will, when noting my unworthiness, for so great benefits, may seek my confusion▪ Thus my good Lord have I in the humblest manner I may, made known unto your Lordship, the greatest and of what I say, for that it is spoken in truth.  
Andrugio answered his Lord, I take thy wordeas a warrant, for what thou sayest, & assure thee on my honour, that as thou art a stranger, thy welcome is the greater. I neither yet have deserved at thy hands such love as thou professest me, but assure thee, he shall not live in bonds of my royalty, that shall envy Andrugio, or seek to do him the least wrong which may be offered a man. Therefore surcease thy heaviness, and set fear apart, for of a Lord, I will become a father unto thee, and a friend unto thy friends and lovers. Time calleth us now homeward, wherefore I will detain thee no longer.  
Andrugio glad at the heart, his counterfeit answer was taken for currant, thought himself the happiest of many, this communication was ended, and with a better will followed his Lord home than we can imagine, as glad he had escaped the suspicion of his master, as the scholar that feareth beating for his lesson: but now to return to madam Melissina.  
This Lady whose heart Cupid hath made a prisoner unto his duty, sought many time's opportunity to ease her grief, by all the occasions she could imagine, but none that she durst attempt for fear: divers times she determineth one mean, and fully resolveth to follow it, than the doubt of some contrary accident, driveth her into despair, combating thus in the extremities of her heart, devising what was best to bring her desires to effect. Venus' seeing her so firm and constant a soldier, lending a little aid to comfort her, provideth this shift. There was attending on a Lady, a neighbour of the Lord Ieronimie, a Gentlewoman in Saxony borne, with whom, for country's sake, Andrugio: grew something familiarly acquainted with this gentlewoman, did Lady Melissina seek also to have familiarity, and on the sudden began to accompany her Lady so often, that with her repair, she grew into great friendship with her waiting Gentlewowan, so much th●t there might no day stape her, without visiting her now acquainted friend. When Melissina had with great favours and bounty won this Gentlewoman to be her friend, walking in a garden near adjoining to her brother's house the brake with her in this sor●e.  
Elenora (for so was she named) I have seen thy honest kind demeanour as well to strangers as to thy Lady and friends that prove thy love, and of all, of what estate or calling soever of our own country, I have for thy good behaviour made choice of thee, as of one to whom my heart hath linked her ●elfe in bond of true friendship above all other. If thou canst therefore (my sweet Elenora) think but the like of me. I protest unto thee, from this time to the end of my life, I will be a second Elenora, & honour thee as myself, using thee as if thou wert Melissina: speak therefore my friendly companion, if my offer be acceptable, resolve me, for I long to hear thy answer.  
Elenora which had received great friendship at the hands of this Lady, knowing she was of honour and of great reputation, thought herself happy to live in the society of so noble a Lady. Yet notwithstanding the favour offered, with humble and dutiful reverence as one knowing full well how to behave herself, returned this answer.  
My honourable Lady, how acceptable your gracious ofter is unto your servant, I hope your wisdom will conceive: far unworthy I am to participate with so honourable a Lady in such familiarity as it hath pleased you to make offer. But seeing it standeth with your favour to make choice of one so simple as I am, a Gentlewoman of mean parentage, and a stranger borne with all duty: I commit myself unto your ladyships disposition: protesting that for ever Elenora is and shall be the dutiful attendant of Madame melissina truly and faithfully to serve you in all reverence, as becometh so noble a lady: to the which by the Gods that framed me, I swear.  
Enough my Elenora (quoth Madam Melissyna) give me thy hand to perform thy saying, and hereafter leave to use these terms of reverence to thy Melyssina, who hath in friendship united herself unto thee, supposing the shape of Elenora to be transformed to Melyssina, and Melissina to Elenora.  
And now Elenora, to make proof of that which I hope to find in thee, I must impart unto thee, according to my trust reposed in thy secrecy a matter of no small weight, with which (Elenora) I commit my honour, life, and reputation: which if I loved thee not, I ●ould for ever conceal, as I have long done from discloasing thereof to any friend whatsoever, yet doth it concern me near. To make many words (my Elenora) is but to fill the air with wind, and spend time, which we may hardly do: for fear thou be of thy Lady miss: and therefore briefy (sweet Elenora) I love, yea love I do, with the most entire affection and desire of my heart one with whom I know thyself to be familiar, with whom myself cannot be acquainted yet I have offered many courtesies, and offers of friendship, which he regardeth not. This is the some I have to say, only I omit his name until I hear thy answer.  
Elenora seeing by her countenance that she meant what she said, stricken in a dump, began to study an answer, for for fear her rash proffer might breed cause of repentance, that she had a lover of her own, whom she was loath to spare to Madam Melissina, although she loved her well, yet after a pause taken, hazarding her word, she vowed devoutly to conceal whatsoever should be uttered, and with her best counsel and greatest pains labour to bring her desire to effect.  
Melissina having made sure work with Elenora, was half comforted, and without any more protestations, told her, that Andrugio a servant to the Lord Ieronymie, her countryman was the man, whom she fancied above all the creatures that ever her eyes beh●ld. But such is his strange condition, that he abandoneth the familiar company et all, so that I cannot hear by the report of any one, that he ●eepeth company with any but thee: Wherefore (sweet Elenora) as I have with the integrity of my heart declared my zeal to thy countryman, so be the instrument to bring my desires to effect, and command Melyssina, yea her 〈◊〉 to do thee good.  
Melissina with tears trickling down her cheeks tenderly wring Elenora by the hand finishing her long oration, of whom Elinora took such remorse as she was forced by the tender instigation of her heart to participate with her But having passed this womanish fit, she answereth, Madam, I have now what I desired, by knowing the man your heart so much wisheth to enjoy, Patiented therefore yourself, and do not with grief oppres●e your heart, for sorrow is no medicine for this malady, but a corrosive that will consume you, only as you have imparted the same unto me, so leave the execution thereof unto me whom it concerneth for your favours showed me in some part very near.  
Thanks (Elenora) for this comfort, wherewith thou hast endued my heart with such a simpany of joy, as I feel the sweetness thereof already dispersed throwout every member of my body. Time, an enemy to friends over stippeth so suddenly, that we must needs part for fear thou be miss: wherefore we will for this time cease our parley not doubting but that thou wilt remember me, and so departed Elenora to the house of her Lady, and Madam melyssina to her lodging.  
Andiugio according to his accustomed manner, presently after supper coming to see his countrywoman, whom he found in a great study, as one (as it might seem) careful of that she had under taken: which gave Andrugio cause to demand the reason of her heaviness, which she many ways excused. But Andrugio measuring her fancies by his own desires, in jest told her she was in love. Entering thus into communication, Good countryman (quoth Elenora) if your experience in Love-causes be such, that you can conceive by outward appearance, what the heart desireth, be not moved, nor any thing displeased, if under benedicite I demand with what Lady, Gentlewoman, or other you be yourself in love: Blush not man (quoth Elenora) for your wan looks, your heavy sighs, and your grief by outward appearance is such, that I have noted in you a great alteration since your coming home with my lord Ieronymie, which doubtless argueth you are in love. Wherefore (Andrugio) if thou be, fear not to disclose it unto me, for a woman's help may stand in such a cause in more steed than the counsel of an experienced wise man: and for my part I vow unto thee by the honour I own to Diana, and by all such holy rites as become a virgin, if either my pains or counsel may avail thee, thou shalt ●●ud my word and deed one: yea, if it were to manifest thy suit to Madam Melisisina thy Lord's s●ster, if she he the woman.  
I am very glad countrywoman, answered Andrugio that my coming hath removed your melancholic humour, and made you thus pleasant, but that I love as thou supposest, I never did, nor never mean to do, because that experience by others hath taught me to eschew that hayte, which entering pleasantly, will confound the entrails and consume the he art, if that present remedy be not ministered in time by their desired Ladies, Therefore knowing the pertill, I will as I have done, avoid that mischief, which may breed my confusion.  
Well (quoth Elenora) I may take thy word, but how I believe thy weak answer I leave to report, for that I know there is no creature living, who doth not make especial choice of one, with whom they participate above all other, and to love (I know) is incident both to men and women, by which I assure me Andrugio, thou dost love, deny it as long as you will.  
If thy reasons propounded, be true (Elenora) and that thou judge of the secrets of my heart, by outward signs, why 〈◊〉 thou deny thy love to me, that so friendly demanded to know thy choice, at my first coming, thy countenance showing it so plain: for behold in thy forehead written that word that Paris wrote ever in the sight of his beloved Helena, (I love) which being apparent, why shouldest thou deny it.  
Well Andrugio, it is folly for women, whose wits be weak, to stand reasoning with men, whose studies in rhetoric and logic may persuade & dissuade such fools as myself, to what (in honest wise) they list, but were madam Melissina here, you could not carry it so away. It is now but early nights, and my Lord and Lady in bed, wherefore good countryman, if thy business be not great, accompany me to the Lady melissina's lodging, who I know, will bid you welcome, and for my sake, to whom I am bound, & would feign acquaint thee with her. Be not therefore so strange, God may provide for thee in time, that as the deserts hath wo●●e the love of the Lord Ieronimie, thou mayest likewise obtain in time the love of this Lady, and become heir of Lord jeronomies living, for that he will never marry as I have heard him say: and children he hath none.  
Thanks good countrywoman, quoth Andrugio, for thy kind frompe, a poor man may live to requite you: for my company, which you crave, if you will accept it, I am ready to wait on you to her Ladyship.  
Elenora, glad that she had made this intermeddling to the Lady's motion, took him at his word, and conducteth him unto her lodging, whom they found ready to bed, that hearing the voice of Elenora, commanded her waiting woman to open the door, Melissina seeing her beloved enter with her, was put to such an non plus, as she could not well tell what to say, that at last, removed from her study, she bade him most hearty welcome, and demanded the cause of elenor's coming, on such a sudden: To who●e said Elenora, the truth is madam, that having this good company of my countryman, and my leisure fitting, too untimely yet to go to bed, I entreated him to bring me hither, whither I trust he is welcome.  
Elenora, quoth Melissina, he is in truth welcome, for thy sake, as also his own, and for that my Lord and brother, doth so much favour him as I know he doth, if it shall please him in any sort to use my friendship, for his better preferment to my brother, or any one, he shall find me ready: and good Andrugio, be no stranger unto me, for of my honour, the honest care you have of the charge my Lord hath committed unto you, hath gained you credit with your Lord, and favour of his friends, amongst which Melissina, though she speak least for your benefit, yet will not be the last, make trial where you please.  
The undeserved favours, I have found at my honourable lords hands, with your ladyships courtesies, poor Andrugio knoweth not any way how to deserve, but in truth and loyalty, to which in the most humblest manner, I bind me so long as I shall enjoy breath, and if your Ladyship shall please to command Andrugio, my readiness to your service shall show my zeal, in performing the same.  
Passing thus the time in communication to little purpose, the night reasonably well spent, Elenora bidding madam Melissina good night, takes her leave with her friendly countryman.  
After this first familiarity, Andrugio had with madam Melissina, oftentimes repaired unto her lodging, as well to show his duty unto her, as to spend the time in honest and friendly talk, discoursing of divers things, to delight her, being often solitary, as desirous of little company, Andrugio and Elenora excepted, now began his misery to approach. Fortune pretending to give him another spurn, for lo, a gentleman of the Lord Ieronimie, who bore secret love unto madam Melissina albeit he never durst reveal the same, yet continually would he walk at least two or three hours in the evening, near about the lodging of his beloved Lady, by which means, he chanced oftentimes to espy Andrugio, coming late from the Lady's lodging, which perceived & noted, growing jealous of his often repaice there, he sought many ways to acquaint his Lord with the same, but could not devise any fit means to the accomplishing of the same, envying still in his heart Andrugio. This gentleman amongst others his companions, having spent their time in riotous drinking, and carousing, he began to accuse Andrugio of villainy, saying, that there was no night escaped, wherein Andrugio used not in most vile and dishonest manner, the body of madam Melissina. This talk noted of divers, in the morning one envying andrugio's happiness more than the rest, grieving that a stranger should have that countenance under their Lord, came unto this foresaid gentleman, and charged him with his speeches, used against madam Melissina, which he affirmed, whereupon finding as they thought, time to thrust him from their lords favour, they determined to accuse him of the crime, & taking no respect on their devise, they presently sought the Lord Ieronymie unto whose presence being come, kneeling on their knees, they humbly besought his honour, to pardon them, for what they had to say. Ieronymie amazed at this sudden motion, desirous to know their minds, bade them say on. Then thus my gracious Lord, whereas it hath pleased you of more zeal, and pity to a Christian distressed, to free Andrugio from the captivity of the turks slavery, of a bondman, to make him of great account in your country: know this my honourable Lord, in requital of those your honours gracious favours bestowed upon him, most caitiff like, he seeketh the dishonour of you and your house, by accompanying himself with your dearest and beloved sister madam Melissina. This my good Lord, I speak not of any evil will to the man, nor enuiie to the Lady, but in truth and duty to your Lordship, for that I have seen oftentimes myself, his repair to her: and once suspecting the same, I followed him, when peering in at her chamber window, I saw them in most unlawful sort together on her bed, her maiden being sent of purpose away, to my great grief, knowing well by the favours you have done that unthankful Andrugio.  
Ieronimie could scarce forbear to hear his tale to end, so grieved at the heart was he at their speeches, but dissembling the same in the best sort he could, thanked them for their good will, and bade them departed. Ieronimie jealous of what he had heard, could not be quiet, until he did know the effect of what they had told, and therefore determining with himself to see the event of it, pretended to watch that night disguised, when he came thither, and he departed, supper ended, and every man departing his way, Ieronimie awaited his time, and scarcely went out of the house, disguised in such source that he that had known him well, might have been mistaken, secretly ambushing himself, to see Andrugio his coming.  
Not long had he stayed, but Andrugio, with Elenora, as was their use came together, and entered the house, which when he saw, blame him not to be malcontent, fearing by this unhappy beginning, the evil event of the rest yet unquiet as he was, persuaded himself as well as he could, thinking, that being both there, no further matter at that time could happen, yet would he see his return, waiting thus two hours, and something more. Andrugio and the Lady playing a game at chests, which they were loath to give over without victory on the one side, Elenora having more haste than the rest, desired madam Melissina to lend her maid to accompany her, which she did, when Ieronimie saw this, think now Lordings, how● intolerable it was to him, albeit no defartes of either part, but wrong suppositions of an envious person? Ieronimie seeing this, might no longer forbear their presence, but with speed entered the house and entering the chamber where they played: (check) quoth Andrugio to the Lady, which Ieronimie hearing, answered, I vulaine, and that check shall cost thy life, miscreant and ungrateful vislaine as thou art, tell me for which good favour that I have done thee, hast thou sought the confusion of me and mine? I will not now stand to reason the cause with thee, but go with me. As for thee rued Da●e, that hast yielded thy body as a companion to this rascal, I will take such order as thy hot defies shall be made cool enough. Thus furiously hailing Andrugio out of the chamber, he departed, committing him to the custody of the Gaoler, where bewailing this sudden chance, not knowing any cause why, we leave him.  
Madam melissina whom the grief of this had overwhelmed, was so surprised with the same, that she fell into a trance, in which extremity, her maiden which went with Elenora returning found her, wondering at this sudden alteration, but left her not without calling help, and with all possible means sought to bring her to life: but in vain they strive, for she hath paid her due to death, whom all the labour they might use prevailed not to call again. When they saw no remedy, the maid presently dispatched a messenger to jeronymy, informing him what was happened. But careless, he thinking it had been some policy of the Lady to draw him thither, that by entreaty she might crave grace at his hands for her friend, would not give credit to it: But rewarding the messenger with bitter words, rested all night as he might. In the morning early pretending to let his sister know his mind, and how hardly he brooked her lascivious life, which she spent in formcation with Andrugio, he repaired to her chamber, where entering the same, he saw the breath less trunk of the Lady lying on the rushes, and her maid with others in tears bitterly bewailing the untimely death of her, whom for her courtesy they loved dearly.  
This sight of Ieronymie, was little pleasing, at which maugre his heart he could not refrain the shedding of tears but standing mute a long time, as one in a trance, on the sudden coming to himself, he inquired the cause of her death, and how it came to pass, whereof none in the company could advertise him, wherefore accusing his own follies and light belief, he supposed that his bitter words, used in disgrace and slander of her honest life to be the caus● thereof. But dissembling his grief he presently departed to his own house, and sending for those two Gentlemen which had made the complaint unto him of his sister and Andrugio, taking them into his chamber, as if he had in secret to impart unto them, he stabbed them both, to the end they should not in like sort, as they had to him acquaint others with the slander of his sister and Andrugio.  
Taking order for Madam Melissina her burial according to her estate, he kept his chamber long time, and would not be seen or spoken to of any body whatsoever: in the midst of these sorrows, he often thought of Andrugio, who lay in most pitiful misery, almost starved for want of food by his own command: which when he considered, dreading the punishment of God for his light belief, and massacring those he had slain, besides his sister's death, more near unto him then all the rest, he commanded Andrugio to be dispossessed from all the substance he had, and to be clothed in such base apparel as he found him in, being prisoner in the Turks Galleys, and sent him into freesland to a friend of his, a Nobleman, whom in his letters he earnestly desired to inflict some grievous torment upon Andrugio.  
This Noble man not knowing any cause, but at Ieronymie his request, kept him as a drudge in his kitchen to do his slavery, and for all kind of carriage for the provision of his house, he made him to draw home like a horse upon fleids, shoeing him of purpose in wooden shoes with long calkes of iron, for sliding on the ice: in this misery lived Andrugio the term of two years, with great penury still accusing Fortune, that would not as well command his life to be taken from him, and so end his calamities, as to aggravate his pains, daily to inflict new punishments on him, too much for a man to endure, and enough for a beast. Traveiling thus with his ●leids from place to place, there chanced a country man of his, a traveller, wanting in the town where Andrugio was a common ●leid which carried passengers, he requested Andrugio (whom he underderstood dwelled within a mile or two where his business lay) that he might pass with him. Andrugio understanstanding by his speech, that he either was of Saxony, or near there bordering, took him in, and courteously entertained him: and passing on their journey, inquired from whence he was, who answered he was of Saxony. This word began to renew a lively colour in the face of miserable Andrugio, who thought now to hear the certain news how all things did stand, of the health of his father the duke: wherefore he began as a stranger that did know little, to inquire of the government of the country, which the stranger courteously told him, adding withal the death of the Duke, with their sorrow for the loss of so noble a Prince. These words caused Andrugio to shed tears most piteously, which was noted of his passenger, which demanded the cause of his sudden heaviness. Andrugio excusing the matter, said that he could not choose but lament their loss, who should want so good a justicer as he reported that Duke to be: demanded further, if he left no children behind him to succeed him, and how the country was governed? My friend (quoth the Saxon) but that grief will not permit me to discourse it, I could tell thee as lamentable a history as ever thy ears have heard, but answering thy demands, I beseech thee of friendship to pardon me the rest. Truth is (my friend) our Duke having one son of wit pregnant, in learning forward, and of parsonage for his time peerless: This young prince in woeful time we may all say that live in this grieved country of Saxony, desirous to learn knowledge, craved licence to study at the University of Sienna whether he had leave to go, accompanied with divers young Nobles of our country, and Gentlemen of great name, who most untimely lost their lives, as they travailed thorough Germany, and he only left alive, & yet in great danger: but recovering his health he departed to Sienna, and from thence no man knoweth whether, nor none can tell whether he live or no, yet hath there been great inquiry made for him in many countries. His Dukedom in his absence is governed by six lords of the country in very good order: unto whom not long since, there came a brave Gallant from the University of Sienna to inquire of the good health of our Duke's son, named Andrugio, for that as the report showeth, they were bedfellows and sworn friends in Sienna. But when he found not my Lord Andrugio, and was truly advertised that they had not seen him since his being at Sienna, with great grief he lamented his absence, and vowed never to leave travel until he found him, or had some certain news of him: so leaving his name, which (as I can remember) was Galastio, son unto the Duke of milan, he departed to the great sorrow of our Nobles, who persuaded him earnestly to leave the hazard of so bad a match.  
Andrugio who had with no little grief hearkened to this, could not forbear the shedding of tears most abundantly, which the traveller pitied to see, least doubting that which afterwards happened.  
Andrugio with much a do drying up the conduits of his weeping eyes, unto the talk of the traveller thus answered.  
Then good my friend (quoth he) if your dwelling be within the Dukedom of Saxony, as you make report, tell me I beseech you how you came by the knowledge of this that you have made relation, & I will requite you if I may.  
Yea, quoth the traveller, I was borne in ●he Dukedom and from my childbirth brought up the city where the Duke kept his court. What I say is full well known unto me, My father a Gentleman of his Grace's retinue while he liuen, whom I have daily seen with tears to bewail the death of this good Duke, and with no little sorrow, lament his sons absence. Tell me then friend, how if it should be thy chance to meet the duke's son, what favour wouldst thou do him: if his want were great, couldst thou any way relieve him, or in what source wouldst thou deal with him. Sir (quoth he) if my hope were such to find him, I were the happiest creature of my whole progeny, and so should repute myself, and great favour should I gain in my country if I might but bring certain news of his life or death, to whom I would willingly as my duty and leech Lord, impart what I have or can by my acquaintance, merchants of our own country take up to relieve him, whom I trust, needeth not my help, if he live.  
The duke's son may think himself bound to you quoth Andrugio, if he did but know your love to him, and if he be a gentleman, he cannot but requite it. That Andrugio, by talk had knowledge of the man, yet not resolved, whether to make himself known unto his countryman, to hear the sorrow of the Lords for his absence, and what grief his whole country endured for him: besides his double sorrow for the decease of his noble father studying this what to do, he refolued that it was the pleasure of God, so formnately to give him knowledge of the state of his country, and therefore not against the pleasure of God to refuse so good opportunity, lest he that sendeth all happiness displeased at his follies, should augment his punishments. wherefore resolved (he saith) Lorenzo (for so was he called) since I see the love thou barest the duke in his life, as thy report, to his hour after death, showeth, I were ungrateful, if I should not requite thee with some friendship. Therefore my good Lorenzo, know that thou art the man that shalt glad the hearts of them thou sayest do mourn, by bringing them certain tidings of Lord Andrugio their young Prince, whom I can assure thee, liveth but in great poverty, far vn●●tting his estate. wherefore if thou canst procure to furnish him with provision of apparel and money for his charges, I can and will bring thee to his presence, let me know therefore thy mind for our journey beginneth to shorten, and I must leave thee. Lorenzo hearing the name of him whom he had thought never to have seen more, began to note the man more and more, but so much was he altered in countenance, with the sun, and weather beating at sea, that he could not know him, wherefore Lorenzo besought him of that zeal that Christians own one to another, not to hide himself any longer, if he were the man as he did suppose he was, to let him know it, that he might do him that duty as to his dread Lord, or if not himself, not to departed until he brought him unto Lord Andrugio his presence, that if his poverty be such as you report, Loremzo may relieve it, and show the zeal, he oweth unto the noble Andrugio.  
Andrugio, being assured by this of Lorenzo his zeal could forbear no longer, but with tears running like streams, wring Lorenzo by the hand, said, Lorenzo, my old acquainted friend and companion Lorenzo, how may my heart rejoice to hear thy love to him whom thou never hadst no cause to think on? but since I knew it by proof, and see what duty thou didst owe the duke deceased, albeit I may be ashamed to manifest that I cannot conceal from thee. Know this Lorenzo, I a● that Andrugio, Son and Heir to the noble Duke of Saxony, who by the cruelty of fortune have never lived since my going to Sienna but in great misery, and never was it my chance in my travels, which hath not been small, to mee●e with any of my acquaintance. But seeing God hath caused thee to be the first, and only man: let me know Lorenzo, thy counsel what is best to be done, thou seest the life I lead is slavish and most odious, such as my heart hardly broketh, yet can I not eschew it in any sort. If I should sue, he, to whom I am thus enthralled, would pursue me: if I refuse this wherein I have some liberty, then might it be worse for me, nor how to discharge myself from it, I cannot devise: if I acquaint him with my estate, than may● be, that he will inflict some great sums of money on me, for my ransom, so that I am now in such an agony, tha● I know not what shall become of me. Desirous I am to see my native country and friends, and to comfort these my loving subjects, which sorrow for my absence: if thou lend aid to my desire, let me know therefore thy advise Lorenzo, and assure thee, that the good thou affordest me in this extremity, shallbe repaid thee with many thanks.  
Lorenzo shed tears abundant, to hear his tale, yet was his heart surprised so with joy, that he could not speak, but passing it over as he might, kneeling on his knees, humbly kissed his hand, giving God thanks, for blessing him with so good fortune, as to be the first that should bring the tidings of comfort to his country, protesting withal, his purse, yea life & all, was at his commandment: & my good Lord, (quoth he) touching your departure, if you will be ruled by my advise, we will return to the place from whence we came, where I have some friends & acquaintance of our country, with whom I will deal, for money and necessaries, befitting your Lordship, yourself shall rest as secret as you may, until the spring our ships may be free, when with the first we will departed. This counsel liked Andrugio well, and without denial returned to the place from whence they came, which ere they might recover, was late in the night. Lorenzo being well acquainted in his lodging, called them up with divers of his countrymen, to whom he declared what had happened, who were as joyful of this good news as Lorenzo.  
Thus remained Prince Andrugio, amongst his friendly countrymen, honoured with all titles of majesty beseeming his estate, but very secret, nor never disclosed, what he was but amongst themselves, for whom Lorenzo was not a little careful to provide all things for his honour, that he might with majesty, beseeming a prince return to his country.  
All things provided for this his happy journey, the spring now appearing, where the frozen alpes began to disclose, and the splendent beams of the sun showed in most glory, Their provision being all ready to clap a board, they attend but his pleasure that hath wrought all things else for their content, to send them a happy gale: which luckily coming as they expected, they were with the first ready to set sail, bidding Freesland farewell, their gallant Bark fleeced the waves, with a prosperous and happy gale, to the ending of every one of their wishes, and accomplishing Andrugio his desire. Time, and short time, hath brought them to the port of their desire, when they had no sooner anchored, but Lorenzo sent by Andrugio, hastined to see his aged father, and withal to will him in all haste to repair unto him, to participate in counsel, what he were best to do, either suddenly to make his arrival known, or to conceal it for a time, but scarcely had Lorenzo his father blessed him, & given his welcome, when blab-like he revealed unto his father Andrugio his coming, who as joyful to hear it, as the other was in recounting it, presently spread it throughout the city, and to the governors of the state, who presently upon the report, addressed themselves withal the honour they could to receive him, commanding the bells to be rung, and sollome praises with rejoicing fires, throughout the City in sign of joy.  
Andrugio expecting long the return of Lorenzo, looking earnestly for him, on the sudden heard all the bells to ring, which made him admire wonderfully: in the end he might behold the shore filled with multitudes of people, and the numbers to increase, by which he imagined, there was some thing in hand. Thus standing in dumps, there came from the shore all the Nobles of his country to give him welcome and to bring him to land, where with great joy of his subjects he was entertained in such sort, as might have caused the mightiest Emperor to have thought well of his people, and to give them thanks. In great pomp rides Andrugio to his palace with joyful hearts received of his subjects, who to show their loves, with triumphs, masking, and other pastimes, during one whole we●k spent their times.  
The solemn welcome was not finished, when the lords and states of the country that had the government, in open assembly delivered their authority in most reverent and dutiful manner, acknowledging him to be the right and lawful heir of their deceised duke, desiring him that guideth the hearts of all princes, to make him as fortunate in his actions as his father.  
Andrugio settled thus in his Dukedom, governed with great wisdom, using justice to all, with his nobles familiar, and to his commons courteous, wronging no man, but relieving all that were comfortless, to the prisoners and men in bondage, he had a special regard, measuring their miseries by his own calamities, having been as they are. To recount all his honours, would fill large volumes, and grow tedious to the hearer only let this suffice, he lived the terms of two years and more unmarried, beloved of all within his dukedom so generally, that they delighted in nothing so much, as in lauding & extolling his honourable actions in such wise that other countries gave him the like honour as his own people: passing the flowering prime of his youth, the Nobles of his country having care of the state, offered many great marriages, but all to no purpose: with thanks he returned all their friendship, accepting none. The old cinders of affections which lay raked up in his heart, began now again to burn, so that day nor night was spent without great care taking how he might accomplish his desire, & enjoy Susania to his wife, yet for that she was so base, and fearing his nobles would be offended, to know her calling, & refusing their offers, was in great perplexity, not dating to disclose it to his dearest friend and most familiar. But Cupid giving spur to his desires, could not let him rest until he sought some mean for his quiet. Casting many ways in his perplexed mind, how to give his heart ease, and his desire end, determineth to prove the faithfulness of Lorenzo, whom he had advanced to honour, for this favour showed: wherefore finding opportunity, he broke with him after this manner.  
Lorenzo, how much I do reckon myself beholding unto thee I will not say, by whose means and good fortune in meeting thee I am the sooner settled in my Dukedom, a friendship which shall never be forgotten so long as Andrugio liveth. But Lorenzo as thy faith hath been firm unto me, and thy readiness as great to do me this good, so am I the bolder to make choice of thee above all I know to impart a matter of more weight, and toucheth me nearer than the loss of my Dukedom, in which if I find thy readiness and secrecy according to my wish, thou bindest Andrugio by an everlasting band of inviolable friendship to rest thine. Speak therefore Lorenzo, if I shall repose this trust and confidence in thee according as I do desire, then solemnly swear the concealing of the same, and thy speedy furtherance.  
Lorenzo as one desiring nothing more than the prince's favour and to augment his good opinion of him rather than to decrase it any way, protested unto him by the faith of a loyal subject, that rather would he iudure all the torments that might be devised, then disclose any thing he was charged to conceal, to any one, but such as he was commanded.  
Andrugio seeing by his earnest looks, that he meant faith, interrupted his speech: saying, enough Lorenzo, I accept thy word, therefore hearken to what I have to say unto thee.  
Thou hast heard me already recount the hard beginning of my unfortunate journey to Sienna, with loss of my friendly companions, what time myself hardly escaped with life: wounded thus I was cured by the hands of a simple country woman, who entartained me well, of whom I wanted nothing necessary for my relief. During this my time of sickness, I was attended on by my friendly Os●es daughter, a maiden with all perfections of a woman so endowed, that it is hard to find her equal. This maiden for her womanish behaviour, her wisdom and good conditions, besides her beauty which exceeded, so pleased my mind, that she won my affections to be hers: yea so did I in heart crave her for my wife, before all that ever I saw, that I took no pleasure but in her company, to parley with her, and to hear the sweet soul recount such old tales as she had learned of her ancient father and mother. To this maiden (Lorenzo) I plighted my faith to live with her as my wife, and she the like to me, as to her husband, the which vow, I neither can nor may forget. Wherefore (Lorenzo) being now oppressed with the remembrance of the same, I cannot be quiet day nor night until I enjoy her presence, and be linked in marriage to her whom I esteem dearer than my life. Now Lorenzo my will is, that in the secretest manner thou mayst, thou provide thyself with such sums of money necessary for this journey, and accompanied with thy trustiest servants, speed thee unto my beloved, and in my name greet her from me, and deliver this piece of ring for a token which she gave me at our departure: by virtue of which command her to come to me with all speed, A sign to give true testimony from whom thou comest, and entreat her Lorenzo as the wife of thy Lord. See thou apparel her as beseemeth my wife, before she approach the confines of our Dukedom. This business committed unto thee, perform as faithfully as my hope is in thee, and bind Andrugio for ever to be Lorenzo's. Thou knowest my mind, my Treasurer shall furnish thy journey with treasure, to whom thou shalt have my warrant, make speed therefore as thou tenderest his life that holdeth thee dear.  
Lorenzo having heard his long discourse, humbly thanked his Grace for the good opinion he had conceived of him protesting that his loyalty and duty should in such sort be employed, as he might justly say at his return, Lorenzo is faithful, honest, and firm, whereof my gracious Lord (quoth he) have no farther care, but according to your trust, all shall be performed, as your heart shall wish or desire.  
Lorenzo sleeped little time, but having made his provision, departed the city and journeyed day and night, until he came to the deserts of Gusqueno, where the beloved of his Lord made her abode: to whom Andrugio his messenger came not before he was looked for, nor so soon by many years, for that she never heard of him since his going first to Sienna, by reason of his troubles. Lorenzo having recovered the Miller's house, inquired after the maiden, to whose presence being come, in reverent manner (more than she would or wished) doing his duty, he recounteth unto her Andrugio his message, declaring that it was his pleasure that presently she come unto him, for that the time was now come that all things to her content and his desire should be performed.  
Susania when her hope was all past, ever to see or hear of him again, having been absent so long, and never could hear any tidings of him, neither in his own country, nor at Sienna, whether he journeyed from her father's house, thought verily he had been dead, wherefore on the sudden could not tell what to say yet viewing the piece of ring, which she did well know, she imagined that he was living, wherefore after divers questions, demanded of Andrugio his success in his absence both abroad and at home, answered, what you are I know not, wherefore I beseech you of pardon, if unreverently I use you, or not as beseemeth your calling, my bringing up is rustic as you see in this poor cottage, and yourself a mere stranger unto me. Touching my Lords demand I know not what to say, being not at mine own disposing, but to be governed by them of whom I received my being: as I have ever by them been ruled, so will I of them be advised, yet my Lord's love is dear unto me, yea dearer than mine own soul. Rest you I beseech you sir this night with such homely viands as this wilderness affordeth, welcome I assure you shall be your best cheer, and at my Father's home-comming you shall know more.  
Lorenzo wearied with travail, accepteth her offer, yielding thanks for that favour.  
Susania descanning on Lorenzo his message, imagineth whether her heart was joyful or no, having so good a cause, and her hope so great to come from a Miller's cottage to a princes, & live in court honoured of Nobles. This happy tidings could Susania with much pain endure to conceal any time, wherefore she dispatcheth a messenger in all haste to seek her father and mother, unto whom being come, she recounteth at large Andrugio his message delivered by Lorenzo, with his happy success, and attaining unto his dukedom, with all beseeching her father and mother, as they loved and tendered the preferment of their child, not to gainsay the will of the noble Andrugio, for that their loves had been equal, & fortune had done them both wrong to separat them so long, seeing it stood with the pleasure of God, after many days of trouble to her loving Lord, and no little sorrow to herself, that they might enjoy each other, his frank consent, with her mothers, might be granted.  
Thus with joy, the tongue faltering in her mouth, she could not utter a word more, which the father perceiving, began to censure the cause, proceeded of great joy and entering into judgement of all causes, which might be prejudicial to his child, as also the desire he had to see her well bestowed, the old beldame his wife casting their heads together, in privy counsel, betwixt them it was agreed that she should go, although nature would hardly brook to forego her, especially so far, that all things considered, and that their faith was plighted one to another, they would not be denied, wherefore at supper Lorenzo being placed at such homely viands, as could be suddenly prepared, the aged father said, Gentleman of Saxony, if my Andrugio, your Duke were present, he could be but welcome, and so he hath been to this simple cottage, so assure yourself you be, and thanks I yield you with my heart for this pains taken for the benefit of my poor child, for whom without b●ast I may with tears report, I have and ever had a father's care. Many a good yeomanly son, yea, and sons of gentle race, hath she forsaken, proffering their love with large dowries unto her. But since the time of your Duke's lodging in my house, she never had any mind of marriage, taking less pleasure in hearing of any such offer then in aught else might be spoken: myself could never tell the cause, but that my wife her mother did partly understand somewhat of her mind, being heavy, sad, & divers times sickly. when other youth spent their times in pleasure and sporting, to recreate themselves, she would wail and lament in such sort, as it hath not a little grieved me to behold. But (my Lord) what was concealed then, I partly guess at now, it was love I see, the love of my Lord Andrugio, who by what means I know not hath obtained her heart and faithful liking, and since I hear by the report of my daughter, how constant he remaineth in his choice, not respecting her base birth, and that I hold it the will of God, after many perils, they should enjoy each others company, I am content she shallbe at his grace's obedience and myself with what I have at his commandment, praying God to make them in love so happy, as the fortunatest that ever lived. And this by the way my good Lord, since it hath pleased him amongst many others to make you the man should take charge of my child, and to bring her to his presence, I do herewithal beseech thee as thou art noble, and bound to defend virgins to the uttermost of thy power, to be aiding unto her, not suffering her to be injuried in what thou mayest remedy, I know her advancement shall have many enemies, who spiting that she from so base birth should be so exalted, will envy her happiness, and be a mean to set discord betwixt the duke and her, by which means she may be scorned, & cast from his presence, and so constrained to seek her fortune in misery. wherefore to prevent ensuing evils, as thou tenderest the love of thy princely Lord, that sent thee, swear unto me, by that order of nobility, which thou professest in all extremities to be aiding unto her, and in God's name at your pleasure, she shall accompany you.  
Lorenzo listening to the large discourse of this kind father, noting the care he had for his child, whom he tenderly loved, presuming on his lords constancy, vowed with solemn oaths unto him, that so long as ever it pleased the divine deities, to preserve him with life, he would stand and abide a father, and firm friend unto her, and in all honest causes maintain her just quarrel against all men, yea if it were against the duke himself.  
Time now is come when they must departed: wherefore these aged parents might not forbear the shedding of tears in most abundant wise, the sight whereof moved Lorenzo to great pity, yet passing over the extremity thereof, with a heavy heart, and countenance wan for her departure, he saith, my loving daughter, how I have nourished thee ever from thy birth, thou canst partly conceive by my favours showed, since thou hadst reason to know good from evil, in hope to find thee a comfort to thy mother and me, now in the inclining of our days in the earth, which how near they draw, he that gave us breath best knoweth. But contrary to my expectation, thou art now parting from us, into a better place, where thou hast few friends, and less acquaintance: wherefore it behoveth thee to have the more regard to thy behaviour: for I tell thee my Susania, promotions have many enemies & few friends the mightiest are hated when the poor live securely, wherefore as it is the pleasure of the highest, to make thee the best of thy kin, have these precepts in mind, and doubtless thou shalt enjoy thy estate in the less peril: Let not thy calling make thee proud nor disdainful, but remember always from whence thou camest: if thou be humble, thy nobles in better sort will love thee, but being ambitious, will disdain thee, & seek thy destruction, Emperors and mighty potentates, thorough ambition have been foiled, and thrust from their ●eates of dignity. Then let not this estate make thee proud, lest it far worse with thee. Be dutiful to thy Lord and husband: if he love thee, be thou kind to him: if he be froward, do not with cross speeches move him, for odious speeches will make thy honest behaviour loathsome unto him: if he be impatient with any, let thy industry be to pacify him, and for thine own part, let not his speeches, spoken never so greatly in thy disgrace move thee to choler, so shalt thou show thyself wise. If he have any imperfection, do not as common gossips do upon their quaffing reveal it, for that is a most odious fault, and it shall make thee a laughing stock to others, and cause thy honesty to be attempted by ruffians, and such as would gladly see thy dishonour, for all honest women will fear that, which is commonly spoken of dishonest women. Briefly please thy Lord and husband in all things, but especially in such as draw nearest his inclination, love him entirely above all others, be patiented and learn to wink at many things he doth the prudent in thy household affairs, careful to bring up thy children, fair spoken, kind and courteous to his nobles, and all others, plentiful in honourable works, a friend to the honest, and a very enemy to light youths, as thy leisure from thy Lord shall permit: spend thy time in reading learned sayings of the wise, for by such honest occupations women are withdrawn from other unworthy exercises. Thus as a father have I in my blunt manner, prescribed thee to gain the love of all men, and continue the good opinion of thy Lord. Time draweth on, and thy protector Lord Lorenzo attendeth thee, wherefore I will detain thee no longer, but with my blessing commend you to the protection of him that best knoweth how to preserve thee, and so sweet daughter farewell.  
Thus after kind tears spen● on either side for their departure, Lorenzo contenting bountifully his host for his entertainment, they betake themselves to their desired journey. Duke Andrugio which had long expected to hear of his best beloved, is now certified by a messenger, that she with Lorenzo are within two days journey of the court: upon which news, he summoneth his nobles and estates, commanding them to be ready to accompany him the next day, in the most sumtuous sort they might, to give entertainment unto a stranger, coming from far to see him, that which was accordingly performed in such wise, as Andrugio by their diligence in fulfilling so suddenly his desire, thought himself most highly honoured by them. Thus all things performed as his heart could wish, the next morning Andrugio with his train set forward to meet Susania at the house of signor Anthony a knight of his court, where he had appointed to meet her: upon which journey, as he travailed, he acquainted divers of his chiefest Lords with the pretence of his coming from the Court, & with what zeal he had honoured and loved that maiden, which they went to meet: beseeching them of that love they did bear unto him and his deceased father's, to make account of his love, and to do her that reverence which belonged unto the Lady and wife of their Duke, for that she was the object of his heart, and the only one that should participate with him in love.  
The Nobles which hearkened to his protestation so unsuspected, began divers ways to conjecture of the same, his friends and trusty followers conceiving the best: others whose love was not so firm, as it pleased them: yet all alike to content him, gave their willing consents, that if he had planted his liking, it were against reason & their oaths of duty and obedience, to gainsay what liked him. Therefore wishing unto him much joy of what his heart desired, they bad God prosper them both to their own content.  
Passing the way in parley, they arrive at the house of Signior Anthony, who glad to see his Lord and master within his mansion, had provided the cheer he could come by, bidding him and his train most friendly welcome. To tell you the exceeding joy of those two Lovers at their meeting were needless, but suppose how welcome the sight of any long desired thing is unto you, so shall you easily guess in what happy estate those lovers thought themselves.  
After some conference had betwixt the Duke and his beloved, with the consent of their nobles, their marriage was determined, and presently in the house of Anthony was it constituted to both their contents, and the liking of all such as loved him, who with a general consent made outward appearance of their good consents.  
This marriage performed, and some time spent in pleasure, as tilting, masking, and other pastimes in honour of the wedding, the Duke with his new adopted Princess thanking their friendly Host for their entertainment, bade him farewell, departing towards their own palace, where they were of the citizens (where he kept his court) most royally received, each one crying with a general voice, God save their Duke and Duchess.  
The term of two years and sometime more was passed in exceeding joys between those kind Lovers, in which time God sent them two saire & goodly children, to wit, one some and one daughter to their great joy, and rejoicing of all the commons. But as the virtuous be always most subject to the envy of the world, so in time the fire of hatred which had been long smochering in the bosoms of Gonsalo and Flodericus, two Nobles of Saxony began to break forth into hot burning flames, in such sort that raising their tenants, kin, and followers, persuading them their intents were honourable, and for the benefit of their common wealth. Thus they assembled a great army and encamped themselves within two small miles of the court, seeking by all the means they could to draw unto them such as favoured the Duke and his.  
The news of this rebellion brought unto Court, the Duke marveling much what should be the cause: presently to prevent ensuing mischiefs, as well as for his own preservation, dispatcheth with all speed posts for all his Nobles, commanding them with all the power they could make to repair to the court. In the mean time himself provideth (as he best could) for the safety of the city. When he had taken this course, being thereunto advised by his friends, he dispatcheth his chief Heraught at arms unto those two rebellious Nobles, commanding them to dislodge their army, and to yield themselves to his mercy. But they whose stomachs were sharply bend to see his confusion, with stout tearins refuse his honourable message, and by his Heraught desked him: commanding most arrogantly the Herhaught to tell the Duke, that their pretence was to subvert the dukedom and to drive with shame both the Duke and his beggarlike compear from so honourable a place as the Dukedom of Saxony: adding further, that in the life time of his father their late Sovereign, they were sworn to maintain the estate and honourable reputation of the Duke's house, which he his son did not regard, but had by joining in marriage with a base Minion, ruinated his posterity, and made their bloods ennoble, refusing for her many of honour and great reputation which were offered him. Wherefore Her ought (quoth Flodericus) say thus unto the Duke, that if he will condescend unto such demands of our, as we shall set down, we shall accordingly submit ourselves unto him and acknowledge our duties: otherwise we are resolved to die in that cause which we have taken upon us to maintain.  
The Her aught having heard their answers, certified the Duke of their intentes, wherewith he was not a little grieved: yet as one tendering carefully his Lady's love and welfare, he still concealed the same from her, determining rather to end his life, than part with his hearts desice: in such account held he the love of his Lady, whose courteous behaviour was such, as gained the good liking of all his subjects, from the best to the meanest, only those two Nobles, of envy that the Duke refused the daughter and heir of Gonsalo, sought his destruction.  
To be brief, so strong were those two Rebels, that they besieged the city round about in such wise, that in short a time their victuals began to wax scarce, and no remedy, but either they must all starve, or try their fortunes by the sword. The Duke thus resolved with his company, astying on him that in many miseries had been his protector, issued out on unawares upon his enemies and fought with them a sharp and grievous battle, in which many of his company miscarried, and he compelled to fly, losing the field: at which time his enemies taking their advantage, pursuing them that fled towards the city, entered pell-mell committing great slaughters of his people, in the end being quietly possessed of the same, they sought for the Duke, who was not to be found. Wherefore to be revenged on the Duchess, they determined to put her to the sword, for whose life the common people with one general voice made earnest intercession, at whose request she was preserved, but banished with her two Infants, commanded upon pain of her life never to return again, within any part of the regiment of the Dukedom of Saxony.  
This cruel sentence pronounced against the Duchess, caused a number, which dutifully honoured the Lady for her courteous conditions, to shed tears, & to be earnest Suitors for her, but in vain, for she must needs departed to seek her fortune, where it best pleased the giver of all good to guide her.  
This woeful Lady banished in such wise as you hear, her only companions were two waiting women, which for her love exiled themselves, departed the City, so overcharged with sorrow, as might have moved a heart harder than adamant, to have pitted her: yet for her own part content to bear this yoke with patience, so that she might be certified of her Lord the Duke, who hiding himself in the deserts, durst not be known or seen of any one, but as fortune had parted them in extremity, so God gave them leave to meet in their sorrows, to comfort one the other. For lo, as he by chance was straggling, to gather roots and herbs to relieve his hungry stomach, having no other sustenance, he heard the pitiful lamentation of a woman, complaining her hard fortune, and bitterly weeping over her tender babes, beseeching God to show that mercy unto a distressed wretch, in her adversity, to grant the duke to meet them.  
Andrugio which with a woeful heart had listened to this sorrowful plaint, knowing well the voice of his dear Lady, was so overcharged with grief, that he could not well speak: but recovering his senses, he crieth out on fortune which wrought his miseries, but more exclaimed against the fates and destinies, that had suffered him to escape with life, to see his Lady and sweet babes to endure such extremity. After he had long debated with himself, what was best to be done in such an exigent, he entered the place where his Lady sat, rocking on her knee the sweet babe, which was a daughter: whose face, when the good Lady beheld how joyful she was I need not relate, only this let me tell you, his presence exiled from her heart the greatest grief. After this joyful meeting, and that they had recounted one to the other, their mishaps, Andrugio as one careful for his Lady and infants, more than for himself, bethought many ways of one especial, by which they might have comfort: calling to mind his friend and companion, Galastino now duke of Milan, he determineth not to rest in any place until he could recover his country. And thus setting his mind throughlie so to do, he with his Lady and two children, with the two waiting Gentlewomen, with all speed they might, repaired to the next port town, which was within three or four leaguts of them, where they embarked themselves, for Milan, selling such jewels as they had to pay their passage.  
The wind serving fitly for their purpose, within short time, they discover the high lands of the country, & within small time after, the city of Milan, whether by the grace and help of Godthey came safely, and being in an evening lated, took their lodging in an o●●rie, were they recreated themselves, two or three days, one joining in the others company, hoping of entertainment of the duke.  
When Andrugio had reposed himself and that his heart was a little settled to quiet, being out of the danger of his own country: taking fit opportunity, when the Duke of Milan with his nobles were pleasantly passing the time, in beholding the 〈◊〉 of the 〈◊〉 springing fields, Andrugio presented himself before him, yet not offering to speak unto him, nor ●● he had aniething to say: but as one amongst other great 〈◊〉, which came to set him, the duke casting his 〈◊〉 all sides, to the people which rejoiced in his presence. Among●●● the company beholding a stranger, first noted his apparel, than the person, which by h●s face he did very well remember, yet doubtful whether it should be the same he supposed, for that he stood so simple, not beseeming the estate of the duke of Saxony: but his mind not being yet satisfied, which was continually on him, commanded one of the Peerces to seek him, describing his apparel, and to inquire of what country he was, and to bring him unto his presence, which accordingly was accomplished.  
When Andrugio came before the duke, and that by the noblemen he was advertised that the stranger was of Saxony, the duke viewing well this face, knew him to be the duke of Saxony, and lighting from his horse, embraced him most lovingly, marveling what had happened, that thus one beseeming the estate of his majesty, he came unto Milan, unto whom Andrugio, with tears in friendly wise 〈◊〉 the misery he was driven unto by his nobles with the ●●●nishment of his Lady and children, which ruthful history in such wise delivered by Andrugio, his friend m●●ed the duke to pit●e the distressed estate o● him and his, and with a heart of love and bounty, bade him to comfort himself, and what was in the Dukedom of milan, to hold and take as his own, protesting withal, that none in the world was more welcome unto his country, than Andrugio the duke of Saxony. Thus inquiring where the duchess remained, he gave present charge to divers his nobles, with his own coach to go to her lodging, & in the best and honourablest manner they might, to bring her to the court. This friendship of the dukes so unexpected of Andrugio, so overjoyed his oppressed heart, as with the same he was almost overcome: whereof he thanked God most highly, and next, his majesty beseeching God to maintain the honour he had, with all happiness, and free from the oppression of all foes whatsoever.  
Andrugio setlcd in Milan, where he was welcome as to his own home, could not content himself in this wise, but grieved in mind to see his misery, more exclaimed on fortune, for this cruel part, then for all the sorrows he had endured: so careful was he, for his sweet children, that he did neither quietly possess sleep, nor without trouble of mind eat his meat, wherefore entering into consideration of his present state, weighing what he was by birth, and what pleasure he had possessed, well considering what an unstable goddess they serve, which are fortunes darlings, growing into contempt of all worldly things, for that he noted their frailty, and diligently searching the joys of heavenly motions, determineth for ever to abandon himself from all humane society, in despite of fortune, and the vain enticing baits of the world which he seethe is transitory, he sequestreth himself from the world, only contenting himself in contemplation. And thus having thoroughly resolved what to do, in an evening late, when all men draw homewards from their solace, and pastimes abroad, to joys of their friends at home, Andrugio unknown, or without acquainting any man of his pretence, withdrew himself into a desert, twenty miles distant from Milan, where fearing a place, which was by all likelihoods, lest frequented, he laboured until he had builded in the hollow of a hard rock, a proper lodge, where the remainder of his life he finished contented with roots, herbs and such provision as the earth naturally yielded: where when he had spent some time, in continual prayer, and hearts case, and saw the quiet content he enjoyed in that life, entering into the manifold miseries of all Christians, he exclaimeth on that fickle goddeste fortune, in these bitter terms.  
O fortune constant, in thy unconstancy, if there be such a dame as fantastical Poets affirm, whose blindness cannot discern the noble from the peasants, the Lord from the slave, nor the servant from the master: cruel art thou which takest thy pleasure in overthrowing monarchies and exalting the base, only of presumption, to derogate to thy name, a title of Godhead. But what vain opinions they hold, that term thee a goddess, are easily to be perceived, if they enter into it: for what can the servant do without sufferance of the master, or what power hast thou, but by the sufferance of him that breaketh life into all his creatures? but fo●●ish be they which have by their supplications to thy blind deity, made thee more presumptuous, where they ought to tread thy honour under foot: for what is fortune, but a feigned devise of man's spirit? an imagination without truth? upon which (as Plutarhe saith) a man cannot settle his judgement, nor comprehend it, by any course of reason, so that by this we must confess, that all things are ruled and guided by the providence of God, and not by blind fortune: for when we want the blessings of God through his anger which we cannot appease, than we accuse our ignorance, and ingratitude towards his mamaiesty, by the unfortunate chance of humane things falling through the common error of men. we attribute to fortune, As the Romans in elder tunes honoured Fortune more than all the world, calling her the Nurse, Patron and upholder of the city of Rome: they builded for her, many sumptuous Temples, wherein they honoured this proud dame by many titles.  
Silla having obtained the Dictatorship, yielded himself and all his actions to Fortune, saving that he accounted himself the child of Fortune, and thereupon took unto him the name of happy julius Caesar, gave a certain assurance of the hope he had in Fortune, when entering a small Frigate in so dangerous a storm, that the Master was loath to weigh his anchor: he said thus unto him be not afraid my friend, for thou carriest Caesar and his Fortune.  
Agustus sending his Nephew to the wars, wished him to be as valiant as Scypio, and as fortunate as himself. These and many other of great prows and magnificence, forgetting the honour of the true God, attribute all to fortune, which is nothing. Ah deceitful Fortune, thou art easily found, but hardly avoided. They that have most laboured to paint out this feigned Gods say, that she hath a swift pace, a lofty mind, and a quick hope: they give her light wings, and a globe under her feet, in her hand a horn of abundance, which she poureth forth upon such as pleaseth her. Some put a wheel in her hand, which continually turneth, whereby they that are on the top, tumble down into the gulf of misery: as histories are full of examples. Hannibal that lived flourishing conqueror, died miserably by poison. Eumines one of Alexander's lieutenants, exalted to honour from a Potter's some being taken prisoner, died of hunger. Pertinex a soldier came to the Empire being a poor woman's son, wherein reigning two months was slain by his guard. The Emperor Probus was the son of a black smith. Maximua of a Gardener. john Leyden a butcher's son of Holland was proclaimed King, and reigned three years in great prosperity, and then subverted. Lo this is the steadfastness of fortune, desirous of change, whereby many are drawn by her sweet proffers to pride, and many wild grievous sins, to provoke the Gods to wrath, who seeing their insolency throw them down sooner than they rise, of purpose to make their states more miserable: let us therefore wisely weigh what Fortune is, and prepare ourselves for all events, for he that is able to say, Fortune, I have prevented thee, I have stopped up all thy passages, and closed up all thy ways of entrance: that man putteth not his trust in Fortune, but joyeth in the discourses of reason: riches, glory, authority and honour rejoice them most that stand least in fear of their contraries. wherefore in despite of Fortune virtue flourisheth. Then there is no good but virtue, and no evil but vice, which is the contrary to it. The virtuous man is only free and happy, the vicious man bond and unhappy. Likewise beauty and the disposition of the body, majesty and honours are all of no force: But prudence, magnanimity, & justice are anchors of greatest stay, which cannot be plucked up by any tempest, and proveth the sayings of Socrates to be true, that whole troops of soldiers, and heaps of riches have been strained often to yield to the enemies which have trusted in fortune, contemning the majesty of God: For wise was that noble prince Amcharsis a Barbarian, who was so desirous to attain virtue, that he left the kingdom of Silla to his youngest brother, and went into Graecia to profit with Solon: saying, that Fortune should never triumph over him, but he would triumph over Fortune. These examples (Andrugio,) may draw thee to virtue, and contemn the world, persist in thy doing, respect not the world, nor take care for thy family, thy friend Galastino faithful and kind to thee and thine, shall be to thy wife a husband, and a father to thy fatherless infants: yea thou Galastino mayst be in the world a mirror, to give directions of true friendship: for besides thyself there is not one on the whole earth: thou that showest thy mind by thy deeds: Thou prince of Milan art the true friend that Socrates prescribeth to be the inestimable jewel of the world, not to be valued by all the mortal things of the earth, which true friendship of thine maketh me happy in my unhappiness, and my distressed family blessed, for whom I trust in time, thy sword shall make passage unto the Dukedom of Saxony, and there plant my son Alphonsus to succeed his Father in his right, yielding unto those accursed traitors & their offsprings the reward of traitors.  
O friendly Galastino thou mirror of men, whose worthiness cannot be valued, for thy faith and loyalty to thy friend. Many in prosperity like the fawning dogs will follow a man, but in adversity fly from him like the full gorges hawk. O world where is the faith and friendship that hath been in times passed amongst men, taken from men because of their ingratitude to God. Histories tell us of many which lived, offering both life, lands, goods and what else for their friends, signs of true fidelity, as jonathan for David, we read in holy wryt of their jeopardy one for the other, how often their friendship was approved between them, neither could the desire of dignity draw the affectionate love & zeal of prince jonathan from his David, albeit he knew that David should succeed his father in the kingdom, he being his heir. So we read of Achilles and patroclus, Orestes and pyllides, both of them calling themselves by the name of Orestes, who was content to die to save the life of his companion. The like was Ephenus and Eneritus, and Damon and pythias of whose friendly love Dyonisius the tyrant seeing the proof, the one being ready to die for the other, pardoned them both.  
This is the trial of true friends: how many liveth at this day like those: Ah none, the more may our hearts grieve to think thereon. Ambition, covetonsnesse, pride, and hatred are so crept into the hearts of men, that they contemn God and his doings, their fathers, kin and well-willers. How many men live in these days, that for a kingdom would not murder his prince, if he might do it without fear of death, which is a terror to most men? How many men be there that for riches will not stick to rob Temples, profane the name of God, use perjury, to the confounding of the honest and their posterity? yea, to enjoy what their own fathers have, seek untimely to cut of their lives that first gave them breath? We daily see in our courts of justice the father contend with the son, brother with brother, wife with husband, and all estates one with another cannot content themselves with their callings: all proceed from ambition, which is nothing but a desire to enjoy honours, estates and great places. Further, it is a vice of excess, and contrary to modesty: for that man (as Aristotle saith) is modest, which desireth honour as he ought, and as becometh him, but he that desireth it by unlawful means is ambitious. How many treasons hath there been by ambitious men conspired against their sovereigns? We read of Frederick the third who after he had reigned thirty years, was miserably murdered by Manfroy his bastard son, whom he had made prince of Trantinum, and after he had committed this parricide, poisoned his own brother Conradus that he might make himself king of Naples, Antonius & Geta successors in the Empire to Severus their father, could not suffer one the other to enjoy so large a monarchy: for Anton. slew his brother Geta with a dagger that he might rule alone. Soliman king of the Turks, when he heard the shouts of his army that they made for Sultan Mustipha his son, he caused him to be secretly strangled in his chamber: & presently (being dead) to be cast out before his army, causing this speech to be uttered with a loud voice, there was but one God in heaven, and one Sultan upon earth: within two days after he caused his second son Sultan Soba to die, for that he wept for his brother and Sultan Mahomet his third son because he fled for fear, leaving but one of his race alive to succeed him.  
These are but the familiar examples of ambition in respect of those that cause men to put innocentes to death, that they may the surer grow and increase: but no doubt for the most part, just punishment follow the ambitious, for example to others, whereof there are unfeigned histories, which mention the same. Marcus Craessus, the richest man of his time, jealous of Caesar's glory, at the age of threescore years, lead with a vain hope of conquest, undertook the wars against Arsaces, king of the Parthians, in which wars himself was miserably slain, with twenty thousand of his men, and ten thousand taken prisoners. Marcus Marlius was for the like occasion thrown down from a rock, and broke his neck. Oh that men would consider the fruits of ambition? who would then willingly offend? for as the wise man saith, (comparing them to smoke dispersed with the wind) desire nothing more than to run out their race in continual cares, and miseries and calamities, depriving themselves of all liberty, and which is worst, pawning their souls, to an eternal and most miserable thraldom.  
Thus let us detest ambition which is an infinite evil, and companion of pride, so much hated of God and men: let us consider that wise precept which is written by the learned Tarian, to Plutarcke, I envy (said this good Prince) Scipio Africanus, and Marcus Porcinus more for their contempt of offices, then for the victories they have gotten, because a conqueror, is for the most part in fortune's power, but the contempt of officers, and refusal of honours consisteth only in prejudice: let us mark well this one saying of Titus, who using continual sithinges at meat and elsewhere, being demanded the cause, said, I cannot keep myself from sighing and complaining, when I call to mind, that this great honour which I have, is not certain but movable, that my estates and dignities are in sequestration, and my life as it were laid in pawn or pledged unto me. Let the saying of the good Philip, Prince of Macedon, be well noted of great men, who one day falling in a place where wrestling was exercised, beholding his body printed in the dust, good Lord (quoth he) how little ground must we have by nature, and yet we desire all the habitable world. Thus Andrugio, in thy solitary life, thou must (having nought else to do) call to mind what (in study) thou hast read, and in the bitter grief of thy heart bewail them that live in those days of miquitie, and note how God suffereth all sorts of people to reign, giving trial by his abundant gifts to all estates, some to rule, some to obey, some to wealth, some to want, some to sickness, and all to prove either their aspiring hearts, by promotions, or their patience by trouble, whereof thou Andrugio hast just experience, which being young in respect of the aged, for years, hast continually tasted the rod of his wrath: yet thanks to him that frameth my heart to bear with patience this cross of poverty, for in the end shall it fall out with me the better: in this contented life, shall I be better pleased, then with all the abundance of the world: for riches provoke many infirmities, which worldlings think not upon, especially to the covetous minded, of whom Aristotle saith, the covetous man desireth to have from all parts without reason, and unjustly withholdeth that which belongeth to another: he is sparing and scantive in giving, but excessive in receiving: the covetous man is never contented, but the more he hath, the more desireth: the medicine gold, and silver, which he seeketh increaseth his disease, as water doth the dropsy, and may most rightly be compared to mules, which carry upon their backs, great store of gold and treasure, yet eat nothing but hay. They endure labour in procuring, but want the pleasure of enjoying: they enjoy: neither rest nor liberty, which is of wise men most desired, but live always like slaves to their riches. Their greatest misery is, that to increase and keep their wealth, they care neither for equity nor justice, yea, for riches they contemn both God and man, and all threatenings, and punishments God hath pronounced against them, they live without friendship and charity, and lay hold on nothing but gain, when they are placed in authority above others, they condemn the innocent, and find always some cleanly cloak to their bribing, making no difference, betwixt justice and profit, wherefore we may well say, that covetousness is the root of all evil, for what mischief is there not procured through this vice, from whence springs quarrels, strifes, suits, hatred and envy, thefts, polling, sacking, wars, murders, and poisonings, but from hence God is forgotten, our neighbours hated, yea many times the son forgiveth not the father, nor the brother, the brother: nor the subject the Lord, for desire of gain (O execrable impiety to be well thought of amongst us,) it causeth men to break their faith given, to violate all friendship, to betray their country and subjects, to rebel against their Prince, but note how many mischiefs covetousness hath attempted: Mulcasses king of thives, had his eyes by his own son put out, that he might cease upon his riches: Polimnestor, son to Priamus of Troy, slew his kinsman Polidorus, to gain gold, for the which Queen Hecuba, coming unto him, without any show of discontentment, having him alone in a chamber, with the help of her women, thrust out his eyes. The Emperor Caligula was so much touched with covetousness, that there was no mean to get money, how unlawful soever it were, which he sought not out, insomuch that he laid a tribute upon Urine, and sold his sister's gowns, whom he had banished, yet in one year of his reign, he spent prodigally 67. millions of gold, which Tiberius his predecessor had gathered together, I call now to mind the remedy of a covetous cardinal, who used when his horse-keepers had given oats to his horses, to come down all alone by a trap door without light into the stable, and steal their oats, and carried them into his Garner, whereof he kept the key himself so long as he continued this goings and come that one of his horse-keepers, not knowing who was the thief, hide himself in the stable, and taking him at the deed doing, with a pitchfork, so basted him that he left him for dead, so that he was feign to be carried by four men into his chamber. These with many other examples may move us to open the inward meaning of the heart, by true prayer to the giver of all goodness, and learn with modesty the heaping up of worldly treasures, for godliness with contentation is great gain, and let all Christians procure that God may be worshipped, duty and reverence given to superiors, concord be amongst equals, discipline to be used towards inferiors, patience towards enemies, mercy towards the poor: but men puffed with pride, ambition, covetousness and all vile sins, show themselves ingrateful to God their maker, a vice odious in the sight of God and men: for note first, Adam having an unthankful mi●de to his creator, did eat the forbidden fruit contrary to his express commandment, to whom he owed all obedience: thus as by his ingratitude he neglected his obedience to his Lord, so his punishment was according to the manner of his offence, for his own spirits, which were before at his commandment, rebelled against him, and led him to all kind of sin, which maketh us inheritors of his curse, both of sin and death, yet so dull is our understanding, that daily we fall into this crime of ingratitude, which we ought to hate in great measure, and to fly from it more than death itself, by reason of the evils which it hath brought upon us: but yet alas, we see amongst us too many ungrateful persons, who betray them soonest by whom they receive all their living and advancement. And if unthankfulness be familiar with the meaner sort, let us not think it farther off from those of higher calling, for upon every light occasion, especially if a man frame not himself to that vice, which they have in greatest commendation, they easily forget all the service that hath been done unto them, by reason of some new come guest, who will sh●we himself a serviceable minister of their pleasures this happeneth soonest when men grow in greatness, because commonly as their calling increase (not being instructed in virtue) they wax worse and worse in behaviour, but let them take this for an infallible rule, that an unthankful person cannot long retain in his service an honest faithful & good servant. The ancient said not without good cause, that impudency was the companion of ingratitude, for if no beast (as they say) is so shameless as an impudent, who is he that may be said to have less shame than an unthankful body, for this cause of ingratitude. Among the saws of Draco established among the Athenians, there was this, that if any man had received a benefit of his neighbour, & it were proved against him, that he had not been thankful for it, it was death to the offendor.  
Alexander the greatest for bounty, and Caesar for pardoning injuries renowned in all the histories: of them both it is said, that when Alexander had knowledge of an unthankful person he never gave him any thing: nor Caesar never forgave such. So grievously have virtuous men hated ingratitude. It is reported of the Stork that she never bringeth forth young ones but she casteth one out of the nest for the hire of the house where she lodgeth. But barbarous is that ingratitude in him that hath been borne, bred, fostered and served, and all with the sweat of another man's brows in the end to seek the spoil of all that is therein, even the honour, and oftimes the life of the Host. Wonderful are the mischiefs that happen to the unthankful, & many be the examples of the sorrows and punishents that have followed ingratitude. Now if we desire to shun this vile sin, and to imitate the virtues of the noble minded to our utmost power, this is our help if we always esteem the benefit which we receive of another greater than it is, & repute that we give for less than the worth, neither let us as proud and vain glorious men do, who vaunt that they stand in need of none, disdain to receive a pleasure of our friends, although they be of less calling than we, when they desire our friendship, for if it be an honest thing to do good to all, that cannot be dishonest at all, for in requital of friendship, a receiver is as requisite as a giver. Furthermore, this one other point, to banish this wild sin from amongst men, if we requite double the good turn we receive one of another. lastly let us recompense double, and reward without reckoning those good turns which we receive of others, rather fearing lest we should be overcome in Beneficence then in worldly reputation and glory.  
But wretched Andrugio, the more thou interest into those grievous calamities of the world, the more thou callest to mind thy hard hap, and more, grievest to think of thy sweet Susania, and her tender babes then of thine own penury. But God which is just, will with vengeance reward those traitorous reprobates which have deprived their lawful prince from his seat of justice and majesty, compelling him to seek courtesy where he may best get it, but worse shall befall them then that traitorous prince justinian, who selling for lucre of the kingdom the famous city of constantinople, was crowned there and after three days had his head cut off. pasanias a Captain of Lacedaemon, having received five hundred ducats to betray the city of Sparta, was by his father pursued to a church, whether he fled for sanctuary, who commanded the walls to be closed, and so famished him, and afterwards his mother cast his body to the dogs. Brutus cassius that would have betrayed Rome was in the same manner served. Darius' king of Persia caused his son Aariabarzan his head to be cut off, because he sought to betray his army to Alexander. Brutus did the like to his children, who had conspired against their country, that king Tarqvinius might re-enter.  
If those noble Princes rewarded treason, by the deaths of their children and most favoured, then think not but your lives will be shortened for your conspiracy against me: yea, assure you that the righteous judge of men will punish it in you, as he hath done in many others. The remembrance of your crimes, with the thoughts of just judgement to be inflicted upon you, driveth my oppessed heart into a world of grief: but if I had searched so narrowly into the thoughts of you (accursed Traitors) I had been happy in this my unhappiness, but wise men have taught me that misery is necessary.  
That man (saith the wise man Bias) is able to bear misery which hath been trained in the same from his youth. And Dyonisius the elder said, that man that hath learned from his youth to be unhappy, shall bear his yoke the better which hath been subject to it in times past.  
Demetrius said, that he judged none more unhappy than he which never tasted of adversity. And Cicero judgeth him most happy that thinketh no misery how grievous soever it be, or intolerable, or doth any way discourage him. Nothing (saith plutarch) is evil that is necessary: by which word necessary, Cicero understandeth whatsoever happeneth a man by destiny, is necessary, and we ought to bear it with patience as that can not be avoided. Socrates speaking with a divine spirit said, that when we shall be delivered from this body wherein the soul is, as an oyster in that shell, we may then be happy, but not sooner: and that felicity can not be obtained in this life, but that we must hope to enjoy it perfectly in an other life. If death be the happiness of men, how happy had I been, if in my cradle I had paid the due I own unto death, the joys which follow death, if our frail nature could conceive, and allow were such comfort to all as well to the happy, as the miserable, that none would desire life: for my own part having tried the happiness of worldly men, riches, of covetousness so called, and consider the frailty of it, and the abuse of men, I chose in these deserts to abandon me from all humane fellowship, costly fare & soft lodging, losing the company of my loving wife, & tender infants, living with such roots & other things as the earth yieldeth, for that I have seen the tyrannies used toward the poor such wilful robberies and spoils made of miserable people, so great dissensions, so many hurts and miseries in the common weal, such oppression, such partial judgement, such covetousness, such whoredom, and all sin so abounding: The bringing of which to memory, maketh mine eyes blind, my tongue to folter, my members quaver, my heart pa●te my entrails break, and my flesh consume: it is more grief to see them with mine eyes, and to hear them with mine ears. Therefore seeing the fountain of all happiness consisteth in contentation, I will purge myself of all perturbations, which may hinder the tranquillity of the spirit, to the end eternal things may be unto me more welcome and familiar when I shall know how to use them. But resolved I am in despite of fortune (whose banding bal from my infancy I have been) to continue the remainder of my life in this sweet contentation: for as she (most blind and feigned Goddess) hath taken my honours, my goods and worldly dignities may drive me in disgrace with the people, but she cannot make my honest mind 〈◊〉, which hath always been noble and valiant, nor take from me this settled mind, neither by the tediousness of my life, which is loathsome unto me, nor by any grievous or troublesome thing that can befall me.  
Thus with tears ceasing his mournful speeches, bewailing with heaviness of heart the worlds ingratitude, we leave him to his solitary life for a season in those deserts.    

THE WARS OF GALASTINO Duke of Milan.  
FLodericus, and his fellow companions, ruling now in Saxony, thought themselves sure of their seats, having banished all those that might claim by right, any title in the Dukedom, usurping ambitious titles, and galling their commons with taxes, and all other manner of pollinges, that their subjects rather did choose to die then live in that servitude: yet remedy was none, ease themselves they could not, but groving under that heavy yoke, whereto they were bound: Beseech God, who showeth mercy to all people, to take their cause in hand, and revenge the banishment of their good Duke upon those tyrants, and their progeny, whose Lamentations, and sorrowful plaints, so often powered forth, yet it pleased the Lord to hear, and as he delivered his children Israel from the thraldom of Egypt, Jerusalem from the bondage of Babylon, so raised he up that famous noble prince Galastino Duke of Milan, to revenge the wrongs, offered his friend and lawful Prince Andrugio, and relieve his poor subjects, which lived in great thraldom long time, with earnest inquiry being spent by Galastino, in searching out the abode of his Andrugio, who could not be heard of: for all that might be done, for whose absence the sorrow that was made, is not to be told. When Galastino saw all diligence that could be used, might not bring him tidings of the Duke, he summoneth all his nobles & counsel together, beseeching their friendly advise, in a matter of weight, which he should impart unto them, the nobles that with duty loved him, and whose zeal was such as becometh subjects to their sovereigns, humbly sought his excellency to declare what he had to say, promising to their utmost power, to counsel him therein, with all the furtherance they could, & accomplish in any reasonable sort, what he should require, Gala●tino who found his nobles, as ever before, dutiful and ready to obey his will, gave them all most hearty thanks for the same, and after a little pause taking, thus said.  
Nobles and you states of Milan, it is not unknown unto you all, in what miserable servitude the poor subjects of my good friend the duke of Saxony, have and doth live since the exile of their lawful Duke, by those usurping Miscreants, which have now the government, whose wrong offered their liege Lord, and my friend, I am determined to revenge, neither will I willingly suffer men of so vile condition to live, that wrongeth their sovereign, whom God hath placed, nor suffer the innocent babes, of so honourable a prince, as the duke of Saxony, to lose their rightful inheritance in the Dukedom, myself that enjoy amongst you my birthright, and title of this country, have many heirs to succeed me, when my earthly trunk shall yield his due to death, unto whom I cannot divine what may be offered, yet hope the best, and rely upon your fidelities, whom I have ever found loyal, but if the devil, by ambition, wherewith he infecteth many of high estate, should tempt you in such sort, not to be content with their degree, and should procure the vulgar sort, to use the like cruelty to mine, the memory of my actions and zeal, in defending innocentes, remaining fresh in memory, may be a terror unto those so evil disposed, who weighing their wicked pretence, before they begin, may assure themselves that God which is righteous, will raise some one, of noble disposition, to revenge their wrongs, as by his sufferance I am now drawn to the like in the behalf of those two children of my friend: the noble duke of Saxony, for whom (on my honour) my care is as much as for mine own, neither will I alter my determination herein, to be made a monarch of the world, but to my utmost power, will so prosecute, what I determine herein, that in the cause I will adventure my person, where such as love me, will follow me.  
The nobles which noted how earnest the duke was in uttering his long oration, thought it no time to delay their opinions, what they judged of the enterprise, yet were they driven to a non plus, what to answer so suddenly: to deny his demands and earnest request, might breed suspicion of their loyalty, than which they rather choose to die: again to aggravate him, to the attempt which was before, so hotly bend, was but to put oil to quench the fire, wherefore after small deliberation, they answered.  
Honourable Lord, whose will hath been held amongst us for law, Know dread sovereign, that we have with advise considered of your long protestation, and most highly commend in you so honourable a mind, and have noted what honour it will be, to you and your posterity for ever, to regard the estate of the widow & fatherless, such we term that distressed good Lady, the duchess of Saxony and her infants, for whom we have often been minded to entreat, as in honour we are bound, that they enjoying their right, might ease your majesty of a great charge, and requite on those rebellious traitors, a fact so odious according to their deserts, knowing that traitors, which seek the subversion of their prince, ought not to live. Holy writ showeth many examples, how God punished such usurpers, where is commanded that none shall lift their sword against their anointed, who on the earth are his vice regen●es. David when Saul sought his life, came into the tent of the king, finding him sleeping, yet durst not touch him, for fear of vengeance from heaven. If treason were held in such contempt in those days, how ought it much more now to be despised, Proceed therefore, noble Prince, and let the tender care you have of these innocents whose cause you take in hand, deserve such honour, in the courts of all christian Princes, that no talk may be, but of Galastino, duke of Milan, and his honourable revenge of those traitors, that draw their sword against their sovereign: and having vanquished, the villains, let their punishment be answerable to their deserts, that it may breed terror to all such as shall ever attempt the like action, and remain to the end of all things, in memory: towards the performance of which, of our own cost, we freely allow ten thousand men, well furnished for war, with all the charge, wages, and what else to them belongeth, besides our own persons, to attend your excellency, which shallbe ready, speedily awaiting your gracious pleasures.  
The Duke which found no less than he expected at the hands of his nobles, was so ravished with joy, that it amazed him, wherefore yielding them such honourable courtesy, as their large and friendly offer required, he thus replied.  
Noble friends, on whose fidelity our welfare consisteth, Thanks for this friendship, & so likewise for many others past: more have you honoured me by your consent to this my fi●te, than I list now to utter, but assure you on the word and majesty of a Prince, that your friendships shall never be forgotten. Touching my determination for our journey to Saxony, know that our purpose is (by the assistance of God, whom I trust favoureth our good intent, and will help us according to equity of our cause) within two months, to be ready for our intended voyage, wherefore, as you honour me, see that you accomplish your late offers, against that time prefixed, unto which they faithfully promise. dinner time Drawing on, the duchess advertised the duke thereof, who invited his nobles thereto, where the Duke relateth unto the duchess of Saxony his parley with the nobles of Milan, with their courteous offers, for the benefit of her, and her children: which news was so pleasing unto her, as nothing could joy her more, hoping by that means the Duke her husband's children should enjoy their lawful right, and she herself live to see the same. Thus with much pleasant parley passed they dinner, carousing to their happysuccesse and fortunate journey, until some of them have taken such cold in the hands, that they might not stand on their feet. Time that worketh all things commandeth these Nobles away, e●ch making to their home: wherefore taking humble leave of the Duke and the two Duchess, thy depart, careful of what the Duke gave them in charge, to set all things in a readiness against the time appointed,  
The Nobles gone, the Duke calleth his captains, and men fit for charge, giving them warrant for levying his power, with great command that his company should be of the best and ablest men in the Dukedom, which with care they see fulfilled, according to the trust reposed in them.  
The Duchess for whose sake those preparations were made, conceived such joy at the same, that she thought every month a year, and every day a month, until she saw to what happy end the Duke's pretended journey would hap unto, often commending in her heart the faithfulness of the Duke of Milan to his friend. In recounting whereof she shed many bitter tears for Andrugio her beloved lord and husband, sometime exclaiming against both Gods and men, for his loss who so dearly she loved. The remembrance of whom was likely divers times to bereave her of life, yet in the midst of her sorrows, when she beheld the young prince, a lively picture of the exiled Duke, how often with sweet embracings would she kiss the tender youth, bathing his tender cheeks with tears distilling in abundance, thorough extreme grief of heart from her eyes, hoping yet before death should shut those eyes of hers to see him, and once against to enjoy his company.  
The young prince growing to some discretion, being thirteen years of age, well noting the sorrow and heaviness of his mother, would by circumstances inquire of the Duke his father, of his country, and the cause why he left the same, with many other questions, of which when the Duchess had resolved him, & made relation of each thing which he demanded, describing also at full, how dearly his subjects loved him, and in what regard they held her, it would move the prince often to shed tears, wishing that his years had been such that he might have remembered his father, and of power to revenge his wrong, vowing if it be the pleasure of God to endow him with life, so thoroughly to requite those injuries upon the usurping traitors, that all the chronicles in the world should record the same in memory. And so comforteth his mother in the best sort he could, praying her a while to be content, till God had placed him in his right, whereof he hoped in short time to be possessed.  
Those words of comfort proceeding from so green a head: the Duchess did much admire, & no doubt had great pleasure in her son, of whom she had no little joy, whose education was answerable to his birth, having learned men of all sciences to read unto him, by whom he profited in learning so excellently, that it was rare to find any in Milan, or the whole Dukedom comparable unto him for study and other agility of the body, for which he bore the prize from all of his years, whose conditions were so answerable to the noble Duke his father, that if any man did know the one, would suppose soon who the other should be.  
Whilst the Duke of Milan was furnishing his power, news was brought him, that Flodericus one of the usurpers had by poison brought his companion unto his longest home: to avenge whose wrongs Sextilius son and heir unto Gonsalo deceised, had gathered all his allies, kindred and friends in arms, and was in the fields with intent to suppress Flodericus, and claim in right the Duke doom in truth and lawful succession belonging unto neither of them.  
This 〈…〉 the sudden Galastino could not well believe till he was by letters from divers Nobles of Saxony, and friends to the noble Andrugio and his: thereof advertised, whereof being thoroughly resolved, he hasteneth his powers, and h●●ing a ga●● to serve their turn, After many sorrowful farewells, and womanish tears shed by both the Duchess, he taketh the se●s: whose honourable purpose favoured by God the maintainer of truth, brought them safe to the road of their desire: anchoring in the night, perceived of n●ne by reason of the gloomy weather, Galastino commandeth a 〈◊〉 to be prepared, which being accomplished, he presently dispatcheth messengers from ship to ship with letters of direction, for their sudden landing to all his Captains, who knowing the Duke's pleasure, flacke no time for the performance of his will. Such haste was made on all sides, that ere Phoebus showed his glittering beams on the earth, the Duke with all his power were landing, & by his leaders, (who had viewed the City) made choice of their ground to encamp in, where they fall to work at all hands, trenching, furnishing of tents, and building of Eabinn●s and 〈◊〉 provisions for their succours.  
The morning watch coming to the top of the walls, to relieve their companions, looking out with more diligence (by like) then the rest, espying the ensigns waving in the wind, by their bell gave notice to the Citizens, who on the sudden were amazed, yet every man was in arms, and hasten to their places of defence. The rumour of this news brought to the court, Flodericus the usurping Duke supposed Sextilius, who lay encamped on the other side, had made some sally toward the city: but when he was advertised of the contrary, and that none (as he perceived) could give him certain intelligence what they were, but supposed them to be strangers come from other. Countries, by the number of ships which they had anchoring in the harbour.  
This news was worse welcome than the former behalf, and struck such a terror in Flodericus, that as one despairing of his evil intent, he breaketh out into these speeches.  
Flodericus, thou seest now, that to govern a state is to be cares Captive: uncertain is the state gotten by guile, and despoiling thy friend: what man hast thou ever seen to prosper with any thing gotten by treachery: Then how canst thou hope of any good more, with quietness to be possessed in this dukedom, which thou by treason injoyest? No, no Flodericus, blood requireth blood, he which draweth his sword against his Sovereign, shall perish by the same. If this saying be true, as no doubt it is, then miserable man, what shall become of thee, which hast not only exiled thy prince, his Lady and sweet children, but put thy friend who loved thee to death: vengeance therefore is thy meed, and shameful will be thy end. Miserable Flodericus, whose hap is now so harn as thine, which shalt be now enforced to resign that, which by unlawful means thou didst force upon thyself? Ah ambition, I see now how like a worm thou grawest upon the heart unill thou have eaten it asunder. Ambition led me to those mischiefs, who might have levied in mine own estate a principal member of my country, beloved and feared: yea, and who was it that I might not command? but repentance cometh too late, wretched man, yet seek the safety of thy countryman, let not their blood be shed for thy offence, But yield thee unto the mercy of them, whose coming (questionless) is to be revenged on thee.  
Oh Andrugio, noble Duke and rightful heir to this Dukedom, would God I did know where thou or thine remain (if any of you breath life) that I might (acknowledging my duty pilgrimlike on my bare feet) travail to find you and bring you to your own possessions.  
But vain it is for me to make lamentation for his loss of whom as yet I never heard things, no doubt his soul resteth safe in the bosom of his redeemer: he an innocent, thou a murderer, nay a Homycyd that hath slaughtered his Prince, his Sovereign, and the anointed of God, for whose heinous offence, there is no submission can penetrate the highest, nor no pardon be purchased for thee and thine. Confusion shall fall upon thee, and upon all traitors, who cannot live long, but God will root out. Ah Flodericus, where was the remembrance of this thou now rehearsest, when thou didst first attempt this odious fact, wild in the sight of God and men, by whose justice thou shalt be pulled down, and thy posterity rooted from the dukedom of Saxony: but would to God that were the worst, Then should I offer my neck to the sword of those that seek my blood, and so make an attornment for my people, who innocently are like to be spoiled: but despair Flodericus, there can be no offence so heinous as treason, therefore unexcusable before the throne of the just judge, where we shall all make our account. Oh that I had perished in my mother's womb, or that being borne, I had never lived, to attain the state of a man. In vain waste I these frivolous speeches, Linger not the time Flodericus, suffer not thy subjects to be spoiled, nor thy country ruinated, thou knowest strangers in a foreign country hold all their own they lay hand on, and what is there gotten, is well gotten: miserable is that land, where strangers in warlike sort follow their ensigns, consider therefore the harms which may be done to thy people, and send to the campè to know their pleasure, and what they demand, so shalt thou be the sooner advised, whether it is best to defend thee by armies, or by submission, yield thee unto his mercy, if they come in right of Sextillianus, why then, my title is as good as his, who were both usurpers of another's right, if in the behalf of our lawful Duke, why then yield thee. Would God it were so, then should I never stand on terms, but resign his dukedom, who being of noble and honourable disposition, might receive me to mercy, if not myself, yet will not punish my babes for the father's offence. This restrained by the abundance of tears, issuing from his eyes, he endeth his sorrowful oration, determining, in all haste to dispatch a messenger to the camp, that he might be advertised what they were, and there demands, which accordingly was accomplished: the messenger making small haste, the duke of Milan was come to the walls before that he could get out, and had summoned the same, of whom the Citizens crave parley, which he granted, and upon hostage delivered for his security, entered the same, where in the counsel house, the chiefest and 〈…〉 the country were assembled: unto whom the Duke said. Nobles and you subjects to the lawful heirs of Saxony, know that I come as a friend to your duke and you, not as an enemy, if you yield to what in right I have to say unto you all, it is not unknown, how most traitorously these usurping rec●eants, Flodericus and his companion Gonsalo, have behaved themselves against their liege Lord and sovereign, depriving him of his lawful right, and exiling his wife and children, to the Duke I know not what is happened, having not seen him this xii. years, at least: Therefore can I not report of credit, whether he live or rest in death. But to advertise you, wherefore I come in arms as you see, is in the right and maintenance of the duchess, and the prince her son: Who by me, have been since their exile relieved, and by me as I am bound by law of arms and conscience, shallbe again established in their right, or I and my followers will leave our lives in the cause. Therefore my Lords, advise you whether you will see the ruin of your country, or receive your Prince, as rightful heir, and deliver that usurper Flodericus into my hands. I crave but right, as yourselves can judge, wherefore let me have answer to my content, and have peace, or otherwise stand upon your defence, for this is my resolute determination. The nobles of Saxony, which were friends to Andrugio, and the commons were joyful at the heart to hear the duke report the cause of his coming, hoping that God had sent him to cure that heavy grief of heart, which generally they endured. But the contrary part was not a little appalled to hear this news, wherefore they crave some time to determine of their answer. To which he willingly consenteth, giving two days liberty for the same, in which time he demandeth to be resolved, without longer delay, that he might assure himself of peace or war. Thus having delivered the cause of his coming, he departed to the camp, where he caused to be proclaimed, that no soldier of what estate or condition soever, should commit any manner of outrage against any of the country whatsoever, neither imbessell the goods or cattles of them or any of them, on pain of losing his head.  
The Duke having taken his leave, Flodericus was advertised what he demanded, whose heart suspecting as much before (as guilty consciences be timorous) was not a little grieved: yet he considered that the right was none of his, and therefore could not assure himself of his subjects, who hated him for divers causes: Besides, the life of Gonsalo, whom he had caused to be murdered, struck a greater fear to his heart then before: wherefore doubtful what to do, at length resolveth by the citizens, to return the duke of Milan his determinate answer, for the which he speedily dispatcheth messengers, unto whom, when they were all assembled, he saith.  
My loving friends and countrymen, the time is now come, that God hath determined to cut me off, no longer to govern you, the which I have long expected, yet had not grace to lament my life past, wherefore his rod is ready lifted up against me and my house, whose ruin is at hand which ever hath been noble, now shall it be made miserable and ignoble, myself the cause, which have procured the same. Ah my Lord Andrugio, my cruel dealings with thee and thine, never departed out of my remembrance, no never slept I without the remembrance of thee an● thy virtuous Lady, whose life in most traitorous wise, I conspired. But woe is me, and accursed bethe time I 〈◊〉 violence against my Lord and his: But my friends, and loving Countrymen, it is not now time to hold you with talk, only resolve what is to be done for your safety, whose lives and welfare you shall see, is more dear than mine own, for my heinous offence committed against you in spilling the blood of many your friends, to attain this place of honour wherein Tyrant like I have governed you, which I most hearty beseech you to pardon.  
For mine own life I esteem not, but yield myself willingly to death for y●●r security: yet my good friends, though I perish, show mercy to my children, who are innocent of my heinous 〈◊〉, and preserve their lives which may prove better than the father, and regard the honour of their Ancestors, which I 〈◊〉 respected. This is the sum of my request, which if you grant, my death shall be much more welcome unto me, to which I must perforce submit me. you know my mind, advertise the Duke of Milan, of what I have determined, seek your own security, and let me perish with the sword, that have made the offence.  
The nobles & citizens, that hard his sorrowful process albeit they hated him to the death, was moved with 〈◊〉 of his ruthful tale, and grieved for his children, pretending to become humble suitors for them, yet commanded they a guard to be kept about the court, until the Duke was entered, that none of them might escape, to avoid displeasure.  
Having set all things in order, The nobles who before had determined to receive him in very brave manner departed the city, to the Camp of the Duke, who hearing by an ambassador, before dispatched, of their coming, came out to meet them, whom on their knees, the Lords and Citizens, beseech of mercy, and in their Duke's behalf, whose by right it was, to enter the city, and receive the government.  
Small entreaty served to persuade the Duke, who sought not their harms in any sort: wherefore taking direction for his armies, accompanied with the chiefest of his train and Captains, he entered the city, where he was royally entertained, and conducted to the Court where Flodericus and his company with sorrow attended the sentence of death.  
The duke being thus with honour in their prince's behalf entertained, gave thanks unto them all, exhorting them to continue trusty and faithful to their duke and his lawful inheritor, assuring them, that God who had ever defended the right, would always favour the innocent, and subvert the Traitor. Great joy was there throughout the region of Saronie for this happy tidings, where Alphonsus' son and heir to Andrugio was proclaimed duke, at which every man rejoiced.  
The Duke seeing all things brought in such happy manner to his content, & saw that the people in faithful wise were linked to the prince, he discharged the most of his soldiers, and gave order to his nobles for the prince Alphonsus, whom with the Duchess he commanded with all expedition that might be, should come to receive their right, advertising them by letters of his good success, and how the people's hearts were bend to honour them.  
This done he commanded Flodericus to be brought to his presence, whom honourably he used, commanding him to sit down by him, where he declared how unhonourably he had dealt by his noble friend Duke Andrugio, in exiling him and his children, usurping his right, whereunto he had no title, with many examples how God had punished the like offences in many, and that doubtless God would punish an offence so heinous on him and his posterity.  
Flodericus, whose conscience accused him of as much as the Duke had said, could not excuse his fault, which was too well known, neither did he crave life for himself, for that he expected the contrary, but besought the Duke, howsoever it should please his excellency to deal with him, to take compassion on his tender children, whom he hoped would become good subjects, and being warned by his unhappy fall, prove faithful to the estate for ever.  
The Duke whose heart was moved to pity, taking no pleasure in his death, neither the subversion of his house which was always noble, wherefore showing his noble mind and inclination to pity, pronounceth his doom on this manner.  
Flodericus usurper of the lawful right and title of thy late liege Lord, the honourable Duke Andrugio: I do in requital of thy dishonourable fact, banish thee and thine from this thy native country of Saxony, never to return upon pain of death, unless it shall please God thou find the duke and canst entreat him to come and enjoy his right and government of this country, thy children and lady after ten years to enjoy their patrimony, what ever become of thee: Forty days liberty I give thee to provide things beseeming thy estate, after which time not to be seen in this dominion upon pain of thy life.  
Flodericus hearing the judgement of the Duke, was joyed at the heart to escape with life, which had deserved death in the most extremest manner, wherefore humbly yielding thanks for his gracious clemency, he departeth his presence.  
The Duke having taken this order with Flodericus hearing Sextillius Gonsalo his son had not yet dislodged his camp, summoneth him by a Her aught to come and yield to his mercy, or otherwise without favour to receive his desert the Her aught omitting no time till he came to the camp of Sextillius, delivereth his message, whom Sextillius entertaineth honourably: and having heard what favour the Duke had showed to Flodericus, he standeth not now upon terms, but made proclamation that every man should departed to his home, and he himself would procure the Duke's pardon for them all, or yield his life for them, this done, every man at the first warning, glad to be eased of their toil, and more joyful of their young Duke's return, presently departed with bag and baggage.  
When Sextillius came before the Duke, who had examined the cause of his insurrection to be in the revenge of his father, murdered by Flodericus, he was the sooner persuaded to receive him to mercy: wherefore in hope that he would become a dutiful subject and acknowledge Alphonsus' son and heir to Andrugio his lawful prince and show the like sign of obedience, he pardoneth his fault & honourably entertaineth him, pardoning also all such as had offended with him.  
Sextillius seeing the noble mind of the Duke of Milan, humbly thanketh his excellency for this undeserved favour, & taking oath for his loyalty had leave to departed at his pleasure.  
The fortunate success of the Milan Duke was brought unto the Duchess Susania, whose heart you may suppose was not a little joy full to hear the same: wherefore according to that duke's pleasure she hasteneth to him with as much speed as might be. All things for their journey being ready, the Duchess with the prince Alphonsus her son, giving great thanks to the Duchess for her friendship showed in their extremity, a happy gale began to blow, which by the Nobles to the Duchess declared, she slacketh no opportunity, but taking her leau● embarqueth her and her son to the port of her desire wherein shortly they arrived, and was most honourably with great triumphs by her Nobles and commons entertained.  
Thus the prince as lawful inheritor, being quietly possessed by the Duke of Milan, in his Dukedom: they passed sometimes in pleasure, riding to see the state of the country, and using pastimes of recreation, the Duke careful to see his lady and country, having seen all things, finished to the young Duke's desire, taking leave of the Duchess, the prince and his Nobles, betaketh himself to the sea, where we leave him homewards bo●nd, where he shortly arrived.  
All things ordered according to desire on all parts, nothing wanting but the Duke Andrugio, for whom was not a little sorrow throughout the whole Dukedom: of whom (courteous reader) if thou friendly accept this already written, thou shalt (if God permit) hear more in the second part, wherein thou shalt find matter of much delight, and not altogether unprofitable.  
In the mean time I crave thy friendly censure & pard●n for such faults, as be commit●● 〈…〉, or escaped by the prin●●●, being not well 〈…〉 my writing.  
Finis.