FLORA'S FORTUNE. The second part and finishing of the fisherman's Tale. Containing, The strange accidents which chanced to Flora, and her supposed father Thirsis: also the happy meeting with her desired Cassander.  
Quod grave Sabe jugum patitur ceruice magistri  
Hoc grave lean jugum mitis Apollo facit.  
By F. S.  
Imprinted at London by Richard Ihones, at the sign of the Rose and Crown, near to S. Andrew's Church in Holborn. 1595   

To the Worshipful, his very good friend, M. Francis Tresham, son and heir to to the renowned and virtuous Knight, Sir Thomas Tresham, Francis Sabie wisheth full fruition of mortal and immortal foelicite.  
THE report and consideration (Right Worshipful of your exceeding courtesy, the great and immerited friendship, which I and my parents have, and do daily find at the hands of that renowned and virtuous Knight, your Father, do embolden me to present unto your Worship this my unpollished Poem, from which otherwise, the imbecility of my skill in this divine art, and rudeness of these my lines, do altogether dehort me. Which if your Worship (serious affairs ended) shall vouchsafe to cast a favourable glance upon, and therein shall find any part or parcel pleasing to your virtuous mind, I shall esteem my travel as much worth, as had it otherwise been spent, in winning the golden Apples of Hisperia, or in fetching precious gems from the crystal lake of the Pearl-flowing Tagus. The history (I praesume) you shall find delightful; the matter not offensive to any, only my skill in penning it is, imbicill; and my presumption, in presenting so rude a piece of work to so wise a Patron, very great: which I hope your Worship will the more bear with, and account the rather to be pardonable, in that the fault proceedeth from a good intention and faultless meaning.  
Your Worship's immoovable votary. FRANCIS SABIE.   

To the Reader.  
TO expel (scorn-hating Reader) the accustomed tediousness of cold winter's nights, and partly to beguile slouth-causing sleep, which otherwise would have claimed some interest in an unbusied brain, I took pen in hand, and presuming somewhat of mine own skill, wrote the Lat● published Poem of the Fisherman's Tale, which of necessity I was then abruptly constrained to break off, both in that Cassander who told the tale, could neither declare what had then chanced to Flora his Love, nor I what would chance unto him. Since which time, variable accidents have happened to either of them, which newes-bearing Report hath brought unto mino-eares, and which also thy late acceptance of the former hath encouraged me to promulgate. Whereat if squint-eied Zoilus, or splay-footed Momus shall carp, or find fault, let them not, like angry dogs, all to be slaver with their jaws the stone cast at them, I mean, tear in sunder my faultless Papers, but rather have access unto me their Author, who will straightways fetch forth an old rust-eaten Halberd, which saw no Sun these seven years, wherewith I will either massacre their deformed limbs, or (if they speak me fair) guard them safely to Cold-harbour college, where they may have one whole months leisure, to study their backbiting art. But courteous Gentlemen will courteously judge of other men's travels, and my hope is gentle Reader, as thou hast friendly read and liked the beginning, so thou wilt also as friendly accept and judge of the ending.  
Thine ever in courtesy. F. S.   

FLORA'S FORTUNE. The second part and finishing of the fisherman's Tale.  

COme Clio sweet, my never-idle Muse,  
Whose pleasant tunes so cheers a drooping mind,  
Come cheerful Muse from Helicons fair springs,  
With Pallas sprigs, and Phoebus' Laureates decked,  
Help, aid, assist, to sing, declare, rehearse  
What did betide poor Flora, late the love  
Of stout Cassander, long th' inhabitant  
of Thetis Cell, and Neptune's Monastery:  
On whom the Gods and Fortune minded were  
Full seven long winters torments to inflicct.  
Unnaturally for that his Sire he left:  
Whose austere dealing wrought his fatal bane,  
And for austerity to Thirsis shown,  
Not yielding to his Tyger-taming words.  
Come gentle Muse, declare the rare events  
Which chanced to poor Flora and her Sire:  
What? can the Gods both frown and faw ne at once?  
No sooner had Prosperities archfoe.  
Death-threatning Fate with force of raging winds,  
And shattering billows shrined her of her love,  
But she forthwith her father gad embrace,  
And cleft on him on whom she scarflie durst  
Now look upon, forgetful she of fear,  
And he of rage, distress now made them friends,  
Each held one arm about the others neck,  
Each held one arm fast on a shatred pine,  
Thus sailed they through the monster-shewing sea,  
Now flying up to high Olympus' tower,  
Now down again to This his hellish lake,  
Sometimes both whelmed with Neptune's frothy waves  
Sometimes again reviv'd with drying winds.  
Long sailed they thus, not thinking once of life.  
Senseless as one on whom Ioues fire hath fallen,  
Or fearful weapons framed by Cyclops hands,  
When suddenly Triton did sound retreat  
To hoisting waves, and Aeolus to winds:  
Seas were then mild, air calm, each wind was hushed  
And quiet then, as in the Haltions' days:  
The broken bulk on which they sailed then,  
Without all peril peaceably did swim,  
A ship by chance preserved from this storm,  
Came sailing by, the Mariners espied  
These wights distressed, and moved unto ruth,  
Directed sails towards them, and took them in,  
And carried them (halfe-drownd) to Delphos I'll,  
Where wise Apollo gives out Oracles:  
Here was poor Flora with her wretched Sire,  
Both set on shore, amazed yet with fear,  
When seeing death disdained to end her woes,  
Vplifting hands unto the lofty skies,  
Exclaiming, sobbing, weeping, crying out,  
And furiously renting her yellow hair:  
Thus Flora made her lamentable moan.  
Death, Dis, Styx, Proserpina, ut Stygian Gods,  
Infernal powers, and all ye relish crew,  
Why suffer ye me damned wight to live,  
Unfit, yea far unfit on earth to dwell?  
Alas me thinks, Dis sends me to Revenge,  
And Proserpina, to never-dying woes:  
Ay me, see Death disdains to end my pangs,  
I am reserved, doubtless I am reserved  
With Tantalus, or wretched Ixion,  
Plagues, ever-during plagues still to abide.  
Pardon, good Thirsis, pardon thine own child,  
The worker of thy grief and endless bane,  
And now Cassander, whose delightful shape,  
The gods envied, which made thee be disdained,  
Lo now I come to thee, this fatal blade,  
(A blade she held in hand) shall end my days,  
And though we might not live together here,  
Yet shall our Ghosts (ye Gods forbidden it not)  
With lovers blithe, sport in Elysian fields.  
This said, she would have therewith slain herself:  
Whereat her Sire concealing his great grief,  
In this wise moved her from this desperate act.  
Stay daughter, stay, let not your hands prepared  
To save your life, be authors of your death:  
Learn of thy Sire, be warned by grey hairs,  
Of many years wit and experience comes:  
With grievous plagues the Gods will them torment,  
Which be themselves the authors of their death.  
Let's rather seek how to preserve our lives,  
And not unnaturally work our own bane.  
What though you have been breedresse of my woes  
And mother's grief, the Gods will have it so.  
Men say, Apollo in this sacred I'll,  
Gives Oracles to wights which be oppressed,  
Come let us go unto his Temple rich,  
And see if he will show to us what course,  
Of life to take, or if by any means,  
We may return into our native land,  
How to return into our native land.  
This said, they wandered both with pensive hearts  
To wise Apollo's Church not far from thence,  
Where when they were, sweet odours rich in smell,  
On Altars high religiously they burned,  
Then kneeling down upon the Marble flints,  
With naked knees, bare heads, and up-lifthandes,  
Making the Temple sound with grievous sobs,  
Old Thirsis in this sort 'gan make his moan.  
O wise Apollo, fate-praesaging God,  
Who know'st what things have been are and shall be,  
O wise Apollo, crime-disclosing God,  
Who doubtless know'st how fate hath dealt with me,  
Aide and assist us twain, whom Fortune's spite  
Hath caused to err in this thy Delian Isle,  
And if the Destinies have it decreed,  
That of my life the thread be quite out run,  
Near this thy temple let me lay my bones:  
But let poor Flora my supposed child,  
Find some redress, age wills me to expect  
And welcome death: Her lusty youthful years  
Desire sweet life: the blossoms of my time,  
Now withered are, but hers are fresh and green:  
Or if we may th'Arcadian plaives once see,  
Tell us how we again may them once see:  
He held his peace, and Flora thus began.  
O Phoebus wise, of Prophet's supreme king,  
Discloser of all secret mysteries,  
Tell how old Thirsis, whom proud Fortune's wrath  
Hath made a pilgrim in thy sacred Isle,  
May once but see his aged wife again,  
Th'Arcadian plains, and swain-frequented fields:  
And let me die, death is my due reward:  
I crave no other, death I have deserved.  
Forthwith a scroll before them was let fall,  
And therewithal these thundering voices sent,  
Take what you see Arcadians, shun delay,  
And where this ship sets you on land. there stay.  
Then giving thanks, they took and read the scroll,  
Wherein these words imprinted were in gold.   

Old Thirsis, wise Apollo pitieth thee,  
One of his prophets henceforth thou shalt be:  
Live Flora with thy Sire, end not thy days,  
Cassander lives not drowned is he in seas.   

Forthwith, as they were charged, he made haste  
Unto the ship, then ready to launch out:  
But Flora doubtful of the Oracle,  
Stood still amazed, not knowing what to do.  
Alas, quoth she, what means the Delian god,  
With such ambiguous words me to delude?  
What, was it not as easy to have said,  
Cassander lives: not drowned is he, or else,  
Cassander lives not: drowned is he? I see,  
Ay me, I see, the powers minded are  
To wrap me in a Labyrinth of woes:  
He surely means Cassander liveth not,  
And so I'll take it, drowned is he in deep.  
This said, her father willed her to make haste,  
And follow him, as Phoebus had given charge.  
She followed him, but with a persive heart,  
And doleful mind: they both were set on board,  
The shipmen quickly launched into deep:  
And gave full sails unto their flying pine:  
Which Boreas steeds 'gan draw through Thetis field,  
And plowghd therewith the sea gods marshy realm:  
Unlucky Flora trembled as she sat,  
Fearing each wave which shrined her of her love.  
Seven times had Titan lift his fiery head,  
From Thetis' lap, where he all night had slept:  
Seven times again in her crystalline waves,  
He drenched his chariot, and did sleep again,  
When Adrian chief ruler of the ship,  
From top of stern the Greekish coast espied,  
From whence they came, and whereat in short space,  
Winds helping them, they safely did arrive?  
Here Flora landed with her aged Site.  
The second time here were they set on shore,  
And news was spread through all the land of Greece  
That Phoebus had a Prophet to them sent,  
From Delphos I'll, and now he could divine,  
Presage, and tell all secrets and hid things,  
Apollo o●lie had concealed from him  
Cassander's fate, his daughters, and his own.  
Newes-carying Fame with her loud sounding trump  
Had quickly blazed these tidings through the land,  
And who so famous now as Thirsis was,  
Who so renowned from countries far unknown,  
Kings, potentates, old, young, both rich & poor,  
And all degrees came flocking unto him:  
As though he had Apollo been himself,  
He briefly would all mysteries disclose,  
And tell to them their own peculiar thoughts,  
What was, had been, and would be, he could tell.  
Great store of gold & wealth was to him brought,  
Yet covetous swain, still hungry after gain,  
The more he had, the more he sought to have,  
Who seeing Grecia country to contain  
Fair Meadows, pastures, grounds and fields in it.  
Sought to increase his stock, and though he had  
Now changed the air, ye changed he not his mind,  
But like the Cat whom jupiter transformed  
Into a maid, still ran she to a Mouse.  
Though Phoebus had a Prophet of him made,  
Yet would he show himself to be a swain,  
He bought him sheep and coats, and never had  
So many flocks in large Arcadian bounds,  
As now he had within the Grecian fields,  
Sometime himself upon them would attend,  
Sometime again, poor Flora would them keep,  
And bearing still in mind Cassander's shape,  
Abandoning a second lovers name.  
She termed herself one of Diana's Nymphs,  
Or Vesta's Nuns, detesting Venus laws,  
Which was the cause though many did her love,  
Yet they refused to show to her their minds.  
Poor Saint, she wandered up and down the fields,  
Exclaiming sobbing,, making piteous moan,  
And on a time recording her old Love,  
As by her herds upon a hill she stood,  
Such restless passions gripped her in ward heart,  
That desperately she plucked forth a knife,  
Ready to pierce therewith her groaning heart,  
And therewithal these doleful words sent forth,  
To which poor Echo answered in this wise.   

Fl. What shall I do, shall I die, what shall Flora kill Flora, shall she?  
or to do such a fact shall I leave off? Echo. I leave off.  
Fl. Leave off, and why so? what lives there any so wretched,  
or any so luckless each where as I am? Ec. I am.  
Fl. Why tell, what art thou who me so sadly reanswerst;  
some distressed Virgin, or woeful Echo? Ec. Echo  
Fl. Alas poor Echo we twain maywell go together,  
say truly, what do we two not agree? Ec. Not agree.  
Fl. Why tell good Echo, lives my Cassander how should I  
joy, if thou shouldest tell me that he lives: Ec. He lives.  
Fl. Deceitful Echo, what meanest thou so to delude me▪  
the sea had him doubtless, it had, and it hath, Ec. It hath.  
Fl. I know that too well: we two may then go together.  
despairing Flora bids thee then adieu. Ec. Adieu.   

This said, she sent forth grievous sighs & groans,  
Groans able to make soft the flinty stones,  
And therewithal stretched out again her blade,  
Her blade, wherewith she meant to kill herself:  
Recording yet her father's counsel once,  
Desisted from this fatal enterprise.  
Long lived she thus, poor wretch, yet at the length  
Delay did somewhat mirigate her woes,  
Whom now hemmed in a labyrinth of griefs,  
And heap of cares, a while I mean to leave.  
Now of her birth, hard haps and parents lives,  
And native soil, wherein she now remained,  
And famous progeny I mean to speak.  
In these seas (O my Muse) let sail thy bark,  
And in this ground let run thy waggon wheels:  
Agenor once which ware the royal crown  
And diadem within this land of Greece.  
Summoned by fate to appear before the ghosts,  
And strooken with death's fame outracing dart.  
Now at last gasp, upon his fatal bed,  
Ready to die, his son unto him called,  
His only son Palemon whom he left  
To wear his crown, and sit upon his throne:  
He cam● Agenor took him by the hand,  
And shedding tears, thus dolefully 'gan speak.  
Thou seest my son, how death now summons me  
T'appear before the supreme king of kings:  
Oh, see my son, how Atropos extends  
Her hand, even now to cut in two the thread,  
I must departed, the Fates will have it so:  
Engrave thou therefore in thy youthful mind,  
Thy dying father's last and latest words:  
This kingdom now falls unto thee by lot,  
And in my steed thou must this throne possess,  
Be therefore wise, and as thou know'st, I have,  
So be thou careful of thy subjects wealth:  
Give vice his due, and virtue his rewards,  
And that thy progeny may also sit  
Upon this throne, and wear thy royal crown,  
Choose thee a wife equal to thee in birth,  
Respecting virtue, and not greedy gain:  
More for her wisdom, fame and chastity,  
Then riches, form, and transitory shape:  
So shall our progeny for ever sit  
In this high seat, and wear this royal crown.  
This said, such death presaging pangs oppressed  
His dying heart, that speech was took away.  
At length great juno pitying his estate,  
Sent many-colloured Iris down from heaven.  
Of life Dame Iris quickly him dissolved:  
Strait to a sigh, & huge death bringing groan,  
Out flew his breath, and to the ghosts 'gan post  
Ay me, how did this sad and ghastful sight  
Apale Palemons young courageous mind,  
Thrice fell he down, and thrice again was took  
Half dead from ground, so nature in him wrought.  
Yet when this dolour 'gan itself remove,  
And cloud of grief to vanish from his mind,  
He comfort took, and for his burial rites  
And funerals, all things he soon prepared,  
With regalty, and worthy such a prince,  
And Potentate, were speedily dispatched.  
He carried with a noble troup of Peers,  
In mourning weeds to Pallas temple rich,  
And there in Marble royally entombde,  
Shortly met all the Noble men again,  
And princely Peers, this mourning laid aside,  
And with one mind, as was his right, they made  
Palemon king in old Agenor's steed.  
The set the Crown upon his youthful head,  
And princely Sceptre in his regal hand.  
He governed them, and to them he gave laws,  
He was their Lord, he was their only king.  
Three times had Ver expelling Hiems frosts,  
Refreshed the earth, which like a Chaos were,  
Three times again had blustering Hiems nipped  
The fragrant herbs, which Lady Ver had brought,  
When governing the famous land of Greece,  
And quite forgetful of his father's words,  
His Lords and Princes 'gan him wisely move,  
To take a wise sprung of some royal blood,  
Alleging that it would commodious be  
To him, and not unpleasant unto them,  
A son to see, begotten of his seed:  
So being old, yet should he still be young,  
So being dead, he still in them should live.  
And furthermore, say they, thy neighbour King,  
Tuiston high, in Germany who reigns,  
One daughter hath a Virgin passing fair,  
In virtue, wealth, in birth, and nature's gifts,  
Excelling, rich, most royal, and renowned,  
Who after him shall wear the imperial crown,  
And by embassage to thy father sent,  
Who lately hath her proffered to thy wife,  
And if so be thou minded art to sail,  
To Germany to see this sacred imp,  
whose virtues rare shrill Fame's loud-sounding trump,  
Hath almost blazed throughout all the world,  
we'll guard thee thither and a fit time now,  
It is (it was spring tide) to cut the seas:  
He strait ways moved at these his Prince's words  
Burnt in desire to see this virgin rare.  
But by Ambassadors he minded first  
To know Tuistons' mind, and whether she  
Was not betrothed to an any other king,  
For else his welcome might have been but cold:  
His suit denied, and all his labour lost:  
Ambassadors he therefore sent in haste,  
Who speedily returned with gladsome news,  
News that Tuiston greatly would rejoice,  
And be most glad to see him in his realm,  
Palemon hereat leapt for joy in mind,  
And for his journey all things soon prepared,  
And royally with many of his peers,  
Did shipping take, and cut the Caerule seas,  
And in short space, winds furthering his intent,  
Arrived at Tuistons' german coast,  
Soon heard Tuiston that Agenor's son  
Was in his realm, and coming towards his court,  
Who speedily with all his valiant peers  
Came forth to meet, and welcome this great prince.  
julina also▪ (for so called was  
Tuistons' daughter) guarded on each hand,  
With troops of Ladies fair, and gallant imps,  
Impsable even to make Adonis yield,  
To welcome this young Prince, came with her Sire,  
She went: ah not unlike in view she went,  
To Regal juno, wife of kingly jove,  
Had Venus been among them, Venus would  
Have seemed to her inferior far in shape,  
In pregnant wit she Pallas did surpass:  
And to be brief more coy and chaste she was,  
Then that grove-haunting goddess, who delights,  
In menacing the wild and savage beasts.  
Palemon saw her, and he was amazed  
At her rare form, and excellence in shape,  
Her looks, her gesture, and mind-pleasing words,  
Allured so his captivated mind,  
Accusing Fame one while, whom then he thought,  
Too partial was in sounding her due praise:  
And whom even now he did but wish to see,  
As greatly now he did desire to have:  
Which in short time I, study to be brief,  
He did obtain, to both their sweet contents:  
Their wedding day appointed, now was come,  
I will not tell here what triumphant shows  
And joy was held throughout all Tuistons' land,  
The higher sort in honour of their Queen,  
On Coursers brave their valiant prowess showed.  
The rustic crew made bonfires in their streets,  
The pastoral troup made fields with duties sound:  
But that days pleasure soon 'gan pass away,  
His fiery steeds now Titan did unyoke,  
Her pitchy steeds now Luna did bring forth,  
Night summoned weary limbs to take their rest:  
This princely couple laid them down in bed,  
Most joyfully: But oh, unhappy time,  
O luckless night! the spousal wife of jove  
Was not here present, Hymon was not here,  
Eumenideses and Furies present were:  
And from the chamber top in hellish notes  
The Screech owl sang a lamentable song.  
Twice with full circle, twice with waned horns,  
Did Cynthia see Agenor's sportive son,  
Courting julina his new wedded wife.  
And froliking in old Tuistons' Court,  
When suddenly a great desire to see  
His country Greece, was kindled in his mind,  
Forthwith he told Tuiston that he needs  
Should then return unto his land again,  
Alleging causes of no little force,  
Which old Tuiston could not well gainsay.  
But as he could, he moved him yet to stay,  
But no entreaty would with him take place,  
Now were swift ships and all things in the port,  
To carry these two princes into Greece:  
Ay me what tongue, what Tully can express,  
But half the dolour of this dismal day.  
Three times Tuististon kissing his sweet child,  
Bedewed her cheeks with his Crystalline tears,  
Three times he would have said, sweet child farewell,  
In steed of which came three heart-renting groans:  
Then charged he her, her husband to obey,  
And at no time to falsify her faith.  
Then prayed he him to love his loving wife:  
By whom he once should gain so great a Crown.  
But now the ships already were launched out,  
And they on board, now must they needs away:  
Poor issueless Tuiston cried out,  
Like loving Nurse whose babe is took away:  
Repenting that he ever had bequeathed  
His daughter to Palemon, King of Greece,  
Who had her carried from her Father's land,  
Whose only comfort and delight she was:  
Accusing one while Fate, and senile age,  
Who would not suffer his unwieldy joints,  
Through Neptune's real me to follow his dear child.  
Long time lamenting thus upon the shore,  
Viewing the pines which carried them, he stood:  
And when they were sailed fully out of sight,  
Unto his Palace sorrowful returned:  
And as a Turtle Dove, when she hath lost  
Her loving mate, so seemed he to lament,  
Refusing solace, void of earthly joy.  
And at the last his life in grief did end.  
Seven times Aurora with her ruddy cheeks,  
Saw young Palemon sailing with his love,  
Seven times in Skies night-bringing Vesper shone,  
By which their sails the mariners did guide,  
When turrets high began to show themselves  
From Pallas temple in coast of Greece,  
To which aire-beating Austers flying steeds,  
Did quickly draw the saile-supporting pines.  
Who can express but half the joy which Greece  
Made when Palemon safely there arrived,  
Shrill Trumpets blew, bells rang, loud Echoes pierced  
The lofty skies, at their arrival home,  
And now Palemon, who hadst such a Queen,  
A peerless spouse, with virtues rare enriched,  
Now mightst thou have most luckiest been called,  
Of all the monarchs under cope of heaven:  
But no man may be called fortunate,  
Before his death and latest dying day.  
Securely now with his most royal Queen,  
Lulled fast a sleep in sweet contentments bed,  
Reigned king Palemon, when blisse-hating Fate,  
Prosperities archfoe, steadfast in nought,  
But in wavering unsteadfastness itself:  
Envying always Princes happy bliss,  
And smiling at great monarchs overthrow,  
Now changed sweet dimples into wrinkles fell.  
Thrice after their arrival into Greece.  
Fair Cynthia in decreasing had increased.  
Her waned horns, and with full circle shown,  
When sudden news from Germany was brought,  
That old Tuiston lately was deceased,  
And that Palemon should without delay,  
Go take possession of that royal crown,  
Which was his Queen's inheritance by right▪  
This thing to do Palemon was not slack,  
Fearing delay might much danger bring.  
Accompanied with many of his Peers,  
He shipping took, and cut the foaming seas.  
Leaving his wife unto the regiment  
And conduit of a grave and senile man,  
Eristo called, of whose fidelity,  
And truth he thought he needed not to doubt,  
Persuaded that his youthful time was past,  
And that his age on beauty could not dote.  
Not knowing that the Canker soon eats  
The milk-white Rose, and that corruption doth  
Soonest enter into grey and hoary hairs.  
Palemon was now in the german coast,  
Eristo with julina his sweet Queen,  
Who seeing her in feature to exceed  
All other wights, which nature ever framed,  
Old cankered Carl 'gan on her beauty dote,  
And youthful Cupid roused up his old limbs,  
By outward signs which he did daily show:  
But outward signs with him could take no place,  
At length not able to suppress these flames,  
Which kindled were in this old rotten stock,  
Presumptuosly he then by sweet requests  
Did her entreat to yield unto his will,  
Thou seest (quoth he) Palemon is far hence,  
And sweat desire inflames my youthful mind,  
Yield therefore to Eristos humble suit,  
Whose life upon thy mercy doth depend,  
And old Eristo shall himself confess,  
As much as life indebted unto thee.  
She dying with a red vermilon hue,  
Her milky face, and snow-surpassing cheeks:  
Avaunt old Carl, quoth she, presumptuous Earl,  
A traitor false to King and loving prince,  
Avaunt old fool, whose years full many more  
Than virtues are, whose age with vice abounds:  
Darest thou in thought but wish thy loyal Queen  
Unto thy King to falsify her faith?  
No, know Eristo, know, julina scorns,  
Besides Palemon, any Love to have.  
Know that she scorns all other monarchs loves,  
Much less Eristoes' crime-embracing Earl,  
Away depart from chaste julinaes' sight,  
Lust-breathing traitor, crime-committing Carl,  
Assure thyself by mine unspotted faith,  
And by Palemons Princely head I swear,  
Assure thyself thou shalt a terror be,  
To all adulterous Earls in time to come,  
How they dare move their chaste & sovereign Queen  
To lewd desire, and this thy foul offence  
Shall punished be with more than mortal plagues.  
Eristo then departed in a rage,  
And by revenge sought how to wreak his wrath,  
A false report he presently raised up,  
That he had seen julina guilty Queen,  
With Lord Alpinor playing Venus games.  
Which thing to make more credible, he hired  
A treacherous Knight, the same for to affirm.  
Forthwith he took Alpinor, spotless Lord,  
And caused him in dungeon to be thrown:  
He guiltless was, and knew at all no cause,  
Why unto him such rigour should be shown,  
Then sent he letters unto his dread king,  
How that the Queen defiled had his bed,  
And with Alpinor traitorously conspired  
To murder him, and take from him his crown▪  
And that thou mayst think this no forged tale,  
I (saith he) with Calingo saw them both,  
Like Mars and Venus wrapped in Vulcan's net,  
Upon thy bed, when Cupid struck the stroke.  
Ah how these news apalled Palemons mind.  
His youthful mind impatient yet of grief.  
Three times he shook his grief praesaging locks,  
Locks never wont so furiously to move.  
Not Tantalus, amid the fleeting waves,  
Nor wretched Ixion with his rolling wheel,  
No damned ghost amid Don Pluto's lake,  
Did suffer half the tortures which he did.  
Now did he call to mind julinaes' fame,  
Her virtues rare, and never-spotted name,  
Who said, first Luna's steeds shall guide the day,  
And Titan's night, then I'll be false to thee.  
One while again he called into mind,  
Her heavenly shape, and heart-alluring form,  
And that Alpinor was a youthful Lord.  
Then of what force sweet Venus' fire was,  
Which oft had caused the chastest gods to yield.  
Much less julina but a mortal imp,  
And therefore prone, and easily overcome,  
Long time (quoth he) was Dido counted chaste,  
Yet by request Aeneas made her yield.  
So hath julina to Alpinors' suit.  
What's of more might than Venus' fiery love.  
This in a rage he fully did believe,  
Not doubting of Eristoes' treacherous mind.  
And leaving there some of his trusty Peers,  
As Deputy and under him Vizeking,  
He took his journey speedily toward Greece,  
Pricked with the spurs of fierce and dire revenge,  
Whom now one while upon the seas we'll leave,  
And to Eristo make a new recourse.  
Who by all means devised to bring to pass,  
To make it seem more true than truth itself.  
The homicide this treason did invent:  
He to Pandion keeper of the laile,  
Did humbly come, with Sinon's flattering tongue,  
His withered cheeks bedewing with false tears,  
Which from his beautie-bleared eyes did come,  
And in these terms his feigned suit began.  
Pandion, whom as yet I ever found  
Eristoes' friend, in all his secret acts,  
Pandion, unto whose fidelity,  
I dare and will my very life commit.  
Eristo needs thy counsel now and aid,  
And secrecy, but secret thou must be,  
Speak on, quoth he, what needs Eristo use  
So many words, commixed with princely tears?  
If he commawnd, Pandion shall obey:  
Although it do the loss of life concern:  
If he bid secret be, he will conceal,  
Yea though a thousand tortures he should have.  
Then (sweet Pandion) listen to my words,  
And do (quoth he) what I would have thee do.  
Thou know'st I raised a slanderous report,  
Against Alpinor and our royal Queen:  
Alas, it was a false report I raised,  
It was because she would not yield to me,  
And now Alpinor in thy conduct is,  
And will (I fear me) bring the thing to light.  
Now that I may myself quite rid of fear,  
And make it seem more true than truth itself:  
I would have thee with some sharp iron blade  
Pierce through his body, so should it be thought,  
He slew himself, for fear of further rage.  
Pandion stood, not knowing what to do,  
That he should slay so innocent a Lord,  
Yet at the last he swore by all the Gods,  
That he would do't, when time and place should serve.  
Eristo then departed, glad in mind,  
Pandion doleful, knew not what to do,  
Sometime he thought upon his promise made,  
Sometime upon this detestable deed.  
And standing thus, undoubtful what to do,  
He broke into these variable terms.  
Ah poor Pandion, how art thou beset,  
In two great straits, not knowing what to do:  
For lucre sake wilt thou thyself exclude  
From heavenly bliss in sweet Elysian fields?  
Wilt thou now purchase Sisyphus his plagues,  
In murdering the sin detesting blood?  
What? Fearest thou more a poor terrestial man,  
With earthly plagues who can but thee reward,  
Than supreme powers, who can for thine offence,  
Who can with endless torments thee inflict?  
A guilty conscience is a wretched thing,  
A torture fell, a worm that ever bites,  
A wound which is incurable, a fire  
Which always burns, and cannot be put out.  
But what Pandion, why talkest thou of this?  
Hast thou not sworn that thou wilt do the fact?  
Do it I will, let Dis, Death, or Revenge  
Do what they can, I'll surely do the deed,  
outrageously thus resolute he went,  
And caught in hand a knife, a fatal knife.  
And running where Alpinor was in hold,  
He found him making lamentable moan,  
In that he harmless should be forced to lie  
In such a pitchy Styx resembling hole.  
Whom at the first this hellhound did soothe up,  
with sundry terms, and comfortable words.  
Like Mercury, who played upon his pipe,  
Whilst hundred-eyed Argus he did kill.  
Then seeing time, plucked out his fatal blade,  
And hellish wretch, I quake to tell the deed,  
Pierced Lord Alpinor through the harmless side,  
And left him faltering in his guiltless blood.  
With all speed to Eristo than he ran,  
As though he had not known this heinous act:  
And said Alpinor having got a knife,  
Had stabbed himself for fear of greater plagues:  
Fame had no sooner heard this forged tale,  
But she it sounded throughout all the coast:  
And now it was in every peasant's mouth,  
He slew himself fearing Palemons wrath.  
And now Palemon landed was in Greece:  
Whom old Eristo cunningly did meet,  
And what by letters he to him had told,  
In forged tales now to him he confessed.  
I (saith he) to my much discontent,  
Espied them sporting on thy princely bed:  
When grieving that thou shouldst be so abused,  
I caused Alpinor forthwith to be took,  
And cast him into prison, where outrageously,  
Fearing thy wrath; he butchered up himself.  
Calingo can this testify, his eyes  
Beheld them both, exclaiming out of them,  
This made Palemons late-received wound  
Bleed now more freshly than it did at first:  
With fiery spurs of dire revenge incensed,  
He would not once behold his wretched Queen.  
But vexed that Alpinor thus was dead,  
He swore by heavens and earth, and all the powers,  
julina should for both their treasons smart.  
He caused her therefore straightway to be thrown  
Into a deep and pitchy Stygian hole,  
I shake to tell, where Titan's fiery beams,  
Nor Luna's light was never seen to come:  
She lifting up poor wretch, her hands to heaven,  
And to the Gods who knew her guiltless mind,  
O Fortune (quoth she) now dost thou begin  
To frown on me, who ever erst hast faund!  
Shall I now lie among false impious slaves,  
Who guiltless am, and have done none offence?  
Shall I now lie upon the flinty stones,  
In steed of soft and downy featherbeds?  
Shall now these arms be clogged with iron bolts,  
In steed of Gems, and bracelets of gold?  
Alas I have patrated none offence,  
Or crime at all worthy these savage plagues,  
Unless when I forsook mine aged Sire,  
To come to Greece, I did commit offence.  
But oh, I would amid the craggy rocks,  
And foaming waves I might have plagued been,  
When I forsook my care-oppressed Sire  
And followed false Palemon into Greece.  
But yet the gods I hope, for doubtless they  
Have seen, and know my sin-detesting life,  
The Gods I hope, with never ending woes,  
And lasting tortures shall the tyrant plague.  
The day now came, wherein offenders should  
〈◊〉 punished, according to the law;  
julina was brought out, and guiltless Queen,  
Among unjust and guilty forced to stand.  
She lift her hands and heart unto the skies,  
Heart never stained with thought of lewd desire:  
Protesting that most innocent she was,  
And never had in thought done such a crime,  
But go to (saith she) O thou tyrant fell,  
Kill, murder, slay thy chaste and loyal wife,  
Death shall at length thy savage torments end.  
Death shall at length these earthly woes dispatch,  
But yet I trust to see thy ghastful ghost,  
With false Eristoes', tortured by Revenge.  
Down in a valley, near the snaky Camp,  
With Stygian waves environed round about,  
Boileth a cauldron with blue Sulphur flames,  
With sulphur flames, which never are put out,  
There stands Chimaera with his ghastful arms,  
Arms massacring the sin-delighting ghosts:  
There sits a judge whose name is dire Revenge,  
With whips in hand, and firebrands in his teeth,  
The Furies daily upon him attend,  
And poisoned toads, and serpents on him wait:  
He, he it is which will see me revenged  
On done Calingoes crime-concealing ghost.  
He, he it is, which will see me revenged  
Upon the tryant and Eristo false,  
And when thou shalt have plagued me as thou wilt,  
And torn in sunder these my lifeless limbs,  
I'll follow thee a ghastful gloomi shade,  
And never will I leave thee to pursue,  
Till I have brought thee to Revenge his mouth.  
Presumptuous whore (quoth false Agenor's son)  
How canst thou talk of innocency now?  
Did not Eristoe and Calingo see  
Thee do the crime? will Earl Eristo lie?  
What if they had not feene thee do the deed,  
And thou thyself it also hadst denied?  
Why did Alpinor butcher up himself?  
Why did he not first clear him of this crime?  
Wherefore go to, go to my noble Peers,  
Invent some cruel torture for the whore.  
Let her be burnt, what thing can be more plain?  
What thing can be more manifest than this?  
Part of his Nobles did this sentence like  
And said, that she was worthy to be burnt:  
But yet it was a grief unto them all,  
That such a Queen should be so put to death,  
Till at the last, a grave and senile Earl,  
Who long had judged in virtues rightful seat,  
Inspired by the Gods, who saw her wrongs,  
Rofe up, and to Agenor's offspring spoke.  
O mighty Prince, who in this famous land,  
Dost wear the crown, and bear the royal mace,  
Whose duty is to see all vice reformed,  
And sinners to be punished by the law.  
Thou hast condemned thy royal Queen to die,  
Accused by Eristoes' sole complaint.  
He doth accuse, and she excuse herself,  
He moved with rage, and she to save her life,  
Now if thou wilt have her to see her fault,  
And all men know that she doth rightly die,  
Let her again be sent to prison close,  
And send thou to the crime-disclosing God,  
Or Themis wife: she once declared how  
Lost humane kind should be restored again.  
Apollo or wife Themis will declare,  
Her treacherous deed, so shall she justly die.  
So shall she not plead guiltless as she doth.  
So shall all men condemn her for her fault.  
Palemon might fullwell have been condemned  
Of rigour, should he have misliked of this:  
To prison back he sent julina chaste.  
julina, who with child was very big,  
Which when Palemon saw, and did behold,  
Her womb, which swelled with offspring therein closed,  
He swore by heaven, and all the Gods therein,  
The bastard brat should smart for Sires offence,  
Two Noble men were speedily sent forth,  
To Themis Church, her Oracle to fetch,  
And she again to dreadful dungeon sent,  
Expecting always when she should bring forth.  
Th'expected hour now came, she cried and groaned,  
Entreating juno for deliverance,  
juno released her, juno heard her suit,  
She on the flints, no midwife helping her,  
O doleful case!, a daughter sweet brought forth,  
Soon brought Pandion keeper of the jail,  
These tidings to Palemon fretting king,  
He straightway charged him take the bastard brat,  
Throwed in a boat, and let it float on seas:  
For so (saith he) by some sinister chance,  
Or death it shall for Sires offences smart.  
He forthwith came, and told the wretched Queen,  
These heavy news: who can express her moan?  
Thrice kissed she her sweet babe, and dewed the face  
With her Crystalline pearl-resembling tears,  
Impatient, thrice of sorrow she fell down,  
As though no life at all had been in her.  
Ah little babe (quoth she) but even now borne,  
And ready now to yield to cursed Fate.  
Shalt thou be fed with frothy salt sea foam,  
In steed of thy sweet mother's sugared milk?  
Shalt thou be rocked with winds and raging waves,  
In steed of mild and gentle lullabies?  
Alas thy Sire, thy flinty-hearted Sire  
Will have it thus, begotten of a Bear,  
Nursed with a savage Tigers cruel milk,  
More cruel than blood thirsty Nero was.  
And now farewell, my hapless babe, farewell,  
Yet let me kiss thy tender cheeks again,  
The Gods I hope, the Gods will thee defend.  
Ah see how Nature worketh in mine heart,  
Here take with thee thy wretched mother's ring,  
A spousal gift the Tiger once her gave.  
Take here this chain, the tyrant me bequeathed:  
Take here this purse which hath some gold in it.  
Fate better may perhaps for thee provide,  
Then doth thy Sire, she wrapped them in a rob,  
And scarlet mantle. Now he took the babe,  
And carried it unto the hoisting waves.  
The ruthful mother when she saw it go,  
Cried out and scrikt, renting her yellow hair,  
The child was now laid in a wherry boat,  
And it thrust off, which floated in the seas:  
Whom to the mercy of the quiet winds,  
And hushed waves a while I mean to leave,  
And now teturne unto the Grecian peers.  
Who were at Themis Temple now arrived.  
They kneeling down upon the Temple stairs,  
With suppliant voices thus devoutly prayed.  
Foretelling Themis, Themis only wise,  
Disclosresse of all hid and unknown deeds,  
Who once didst tell Deucalion and his spouse,  
How lost mankind should be restored again:  
Tell if Tuistons' daughter, Queen of Greece,  
Hath done that crime whereof she is accused,  
Tell if Alpinor late in prison slain,  
Committed hath so bad and foul a crime,  
This said, upon the Altar fell a scroll,  
And therewithal these words the Goddess sent,  
Take what ye see, you Greekish Peers, be gone,  
Unseal it not before you come at home.  
They took it, ploughd the seas, and in short time  
Are Grecia coast were set on land again,  
Then kneeling down, they humbly kissed the scroll,  
And gave it to Agenor's fiery son,  
He read it not straightway, but caused first.  
The wretched Queen from prison to be brought,  
Then caused he a stake to be set up,  
Whereto the tyrant bound her hand and foot,  
Persuaded fully that she guilty was.  
And there in flames should breathe her latest breath.  
Then took, unseald, and read the sacred scroll,  
Wherein these words imprinted were in gold.   

Let reason rule in Princes, and not rage,  
What greater vice than lust in sonile age.  
julina chaste, Alpinor guiltless was:  
Calingo false, Eristo treacherous,  
Pandion wicked, and if Destiny  
Help not, Palemon issueless shall die.   

Palemon hereat strooken was half dead,  
As one on whom Ioues thunderbolts have fallen,  
Abashed he stood, not lifting up his eyes,  
Ashamed to look upon his guiltless Queen▪  
Than quickly caused Eristo to be took,  
Pandion and Calingo traitors false:  
Eristo who sat erst in judgement seat,  
Now guilty stood among the damned sort.  
And presently unto them all confessed,  
His villainy to chaste julina wrought:  
And that because she would in no wise yield  
To lewd desire, the slander he devised.  
And that Calingo hired of him was,  
To verified, and make it seem a troth.  
And that he had Pandion moved with bribes,  
To slay Alpinor as he lay in jail:  
And so (saith he) I deemed the matter would  
Without all doubt, have never come to light.  
And damned wretch, what must I now expect,  
But Sulphur flames and never-ending woes?  
Ay me now shall Chimaera take these limbs,  
And gripe them in his Adder-poysened arms:  
Through boiling Acheron now must I swim,  
And ever dying, never end my pains.  
Alas! I see Revenge doth spur him on,  
With iron whips to massacre my limbs:  
Devouring vultures shall now tear mine heart,  
Mine heart, which as they eat, it shall increase.  
With all speed therefore judgement was pronounced,  
Against Eristo and his two consorts:  
And speedily before julinas' face.  
All massacred, their limbs in fire burnt.  
The Noble men unbinding their good Queen,  
'Gan comfort her with delectable words,  
Affirming that Palemon did repent  
Him of the rigour he to her had shown.  
Which she might see in punishing her foes.  
Poor wretch, she cast her eyes upon the ground,  
Refusing on Palemon once to look:  
Increasing rivers with her spring of tears:  
Her golden locks once trimmed with precious gems,  
With furious hands now from her head she plucked,  
Her eyes which once like glittering Diamonds were,  
Now bleated were with fountains of her tears:  
Her snowy cheeks, once intermixed with red,  
A yellow hue and ashy visage stained.  
Nought on her body now but bones were seen,  
A grisly Ghost, and bony shape she seemed,  
And in short time, out worn with fretting grief,  
Death finished her miserable life.  
Palemon almost to the same estate,  
And misery in sorrowing was brought,  
But that the Fates so had it not decreed,  
They did reserve him for some other cause.  
He buried her as did beseem a Queen,  
In royal wise: all Greece did for her mourn.  
To Pallas Church her lifeless corpse were brought,  
And she in marble gorgeously entombed,  
On whom he caused this Epitaph to stand.   

Here lies julina, Germanies' chaste Queen,  
Tuistons' daughter false Palemous wife:  
Accused to be unchaste, by Themis cleared,  
By rigour yet bereaved of her life.  
Her body placed within this Marble is,  
Her ghost in sweet Elysian fields in bliss.   

He having thus her funerals dispatched,  
Lived in vast dolour, and perpetual grief,  
Sighing, and crying out against the Fates,  
Amid these woes▪ whom now I mean to leave,  
And make recourse unto this little babe,  
Who now is floating on the surging seas.  
Long time it swum betwixt despair and hope,  
Doubtful which wave should have it overwhelmd,  
At length in Humber streams it forced was,  
Which mildly runs by sweet Arcadian downs,  
Long sailed it hore, and at the length it stayed  
Among bul-rushes on the Reedy banks:  
near to this river stood a little house.  
whose roof was straw, whose walls were willow twigs;  
And herein dwelled a simple country swain,  
Whose name was Thirsis, wondrous poor & bare.  
He hired was to keep old Damon's herds,  
And keeping them near to this pleasant stream  
As all alone he walked by the banks,  
He heard the infant cry for want of food,  
He ran to it, supposing it had been  
One of his lambs, hanged in the marshy reeds,  
And coming near, he saw the scarlet rob  
Lie in the boat, at first he was afraid:  
And started back, as when a country man  
Espies a snake, yet by and by he durst  
Go nearer it, than touched he the rob,  
And seeing it to be a very child,  
He took it up, from it took up, there fell  
A chain of gold, he almost dead with joy,  
Did snatch it up, and sitting on the grass,  
Did open the mantle, there he found a ring,  
And massy purse, he took them in his arms,  
And covering them with his old ragged cloak  
To Mepsa came, and thus to her he said,  
Come hither Mepsa, look what I have got,  
An infant fair, a sweet and seemly child:  
And who shall keep us when we two wax old,  
We have no child, we'll say that it is ours:  
Out knave (quoth she) out cuckold-making rogue,  
Whoorhunting slave, bringst thou thy bastards here?  
Avaunt thou knave, thou arrant knave, avant,  
Thinkest thou that I thy base-born brats will keep,  
No, Mepsa scorns to mother bastards base,  
Though Thirsis counts it credit them to get.  
As though we two had nought to do but play  
With brawling infants. Out whoorehunting scab:  
Depart (I say) or else I swear by jove,  
I'll make clubs trump, this distaff shall bombast  
Thy lither loins, and I will take the brat,  
And ding the brains against the flinty stones.  
He fearing her, thus mildly did entreat:  
Peace Mepsa, peace, good Mepsa be content,  
Hold still thy rock: for ever we are made,  
See here a chain, which with it I have found,  
See here a ring, and purse replete with gold.  
She seeing it, ran unto Thirsis straight,  
And gave to him an hundred hungry smacks:  
He doubled them as greedily again.  
Long stood they kissing and rekissing thus:  
Then told to her his chance and lucky haps,  
That he them found on reedy Humber banks,  
And now we must be silent wife (quoth he)  
Or else it will be known unto the king:  
he'll take from us what Fortune hath bestowed:  
So shall we poorer be then ere we were.  
And that we may more surely it conceal,  
Hark to me wife, I have devised a shift:  
When gloomy night expels the cheerful day,  
And pitchy darkness summons men to sleep,  
Feign thou thyself in childbirth to be pained,  
And piteously (as women use) cry out:  
I presently will for the midwife run,  
And all our neighbours: as the custom is.  
Lay thou the child all naked at thy feet,  
And say thou hast brought it before they come,  
So shall each one suppose that it is ours.  
So very well we may this thing conceal.  
This counsel pleased Mepsa very well.  
Night-bringing Hesper ruled in dimmed skies:  
And Luna's Steeds 'gan cut the darkened air,  
Now weary corpse with daily toil oppressed,  
'Gan sound snort, amid their sluggish bed:  
But Mepsa mindful of her late intent,  
'Gan cry and call for junos' speedy aid.  
Poor Thirsis ran, and piteously cried out,  
As though his wife had traveled indeed,  
Help neighbours, help quoth he, my wife cries out,  
And now in childbirth dolefully is pain:  
jana for haste, at threshold broke her nose:  
Favilla ran half naked through the street:  
But yet for all their speed they came too late,  
Mepsa brought forth a daughter ere they came,  
And that she had brought forth they gave all thanks▪  
It bruited was in short time through the town,  
That Thirsis wife a daughter sweet had brought.  
And no man thought but she her mother was,  
And he her Sire, so cunningly they wrought.  
And Thirsis now an hirelings wages scorned,  
He now disdained to feed old Damon's herds,  
He with his money bought him sheep and coats,  
And in short time grew to be very rich.  
When Flora was some nine or ten years old,  
For so he named the infant whom he found,  
She followed him, and bore his scrip and hook,  
And learned how to feed his snowy herds.  
And as in age, so she in seemly shape  
Seemed to increase, she waxed passing fair,  
No Shepherdess within the Arcadian plains,  
Was half so fair, as Mepsas Flora was.  
In summer time, when fiery Titan's beams  
Scorched country trulls, with beautie-spoyling heat,  
With garlands brave she would adorn herself,  
And shady boughs to keep away the heat.  
Good Lord how many, when she came to age,  
Burnt in desire, and sued to have her love.  
Wel-pyping Damon, with Amyntas came,  
Rich Melibeus, fair Alexis eke:  
A thousand more too long here to recite,  
A wooing came, all which she did repel.  
Her father would her oft times wish to wed,  
Her mother would to marry her persuade,  
But mixing whiteness with a scarlet hue:  
She would entreat them both to let her live  
A Virgin still, for love she did dearest.  
Thus chastened living, and attending on  
Her father's flocks, with many country trulls,  
Menalchus' son, a famous Grecian Earl,  
Came riding by, saw her, and burnt in love,  
And for her love did make himself a Swain.  
He after much entreating, did obtain  
Her wished love, and carried her away:  
When as, you heard, her father missing her,  
Ran after her, and would have fetched her back,  
But he poor swain, was also partner made  
Of their hard haps, and carried into ship,  
When floating on the seas, a sudden storm,  
And furious tempest broke their winged pine.  
The Grecian Knight disjoined from his love,  
And by a board drawn to a craggy rock,  
A rock whereon a little cell was built,  
Where Gods assisting long time he remained.  
Flora and Thirsis, cleaning on a bulk,  
At Delos land, Apollo's Isle did stay:  
Where by the counsel of the Delian God,  
As late I told, they carried were to Greece:  
And now was Flora in her native land,  
Attending herds, where first she breathed life:  
Now was she in Palemons land her Sire,  
Her woeful Sire, which she full little knew.  
Each day she used to keep her father's flocks,  
Still mourning for Cassander, her true love:  
At length the Gods did pity her estate,  
And Fortune who had seven long winters frowned,  
At seven years end began on her to smile.  
Cassander coming from his seaish cell,  
As he was wont, his Cittern held in hand,  
And standing on the bottom of the rock,  
Enchanting fish with his melodious sound,  
His Instrument by chance fell from his hand,  
And carried was away by surging waves.  
He cried out, O Fortune, yet wilt thou  
Now with more woes and torments me pursue?  
Wilt thou again begin me to mollest,  
Who erst did think to make a slave of thee.  
What shall I do? Shall I departed from hence?  
And subject be again to Fortune's spite?  
No, no, I will not: in these furious seas,  
I'll cast myself, and end my loathed life:  
Lo now I die. What said I, I would die?  
What shall Cassander kill Cassander? no,  
He shall not do't. The Gods with endless plagues  
Will them inflict, which spoil themselves of lise.  
But yonder sails a ship. O Mariners,  
Take pity of a poor distressed wight:  
Take pity of one, whom Gods wrathful ire  
Long time hath caused to live on this cold rock.  
They pitied him, and bending sails and oars  
Unto the rock, did take him in on board.  
He to the shipmen told his hard mishaps:  
Which caused them not to think their journey long,  
And in short time, (for thither did they sail)  
Their ship did land at old Palemons Coast.  
Here was Cassander once a Grecian Knight,  
Set on the shore, it was his native soil,  
Disdaining his inheritance to seek,  
Or Fortune's gifts, but pilgrimlike he went.  
Now was poor Flora in her native land,  
Where both her Sire and Love Cassander was,  
Yet neither of them knew where th'other was.  
Eristos son, a false and youthful Earl,  
For villainy whose father martyred was.  
Dryano called, who only bore now sway,  
Next to Palemon in the land of Greece.  
In summer time unto the grovie woods,  
Mounted upon a Steed and Palfrey brave,  
Like Mars in valour, with a dart in hand,  
Went to pursue the wild and savage Boar.  
No sooner came he into bushy woods,  
But from a cave a fiery Boar rushed out:  
His eyes resembled aiery-lightening flames,  
His bristles stood like spears upon his back,  
A hoary foam imbrued his threatening jaws,  
His crashing teeth were able even to make  
Courageous Mars to quake and shake for fear.  
Drlano first 'gan throw at him a dart,  
Which like a shaft against a flint redound,  
Then all his men their weapons did let fly,  
Darts flew as thick as hailstones from the skies,  
The fiery Boar foams, rageth, gnasheth teeth,  
And with his ire seems even to prostrate pines.  
They followed him and never left pursuit,  
Till they had laid his carcase on the ground.  
joyful Driano with his merry men,  
Returned now from slaughter of the Boar:  
And shunning Titan's heat, for it was hot,  
Road home through groves, & leave-behanged shade  
Ah luckless Earl, an outward heat who shunned,  
And purchased thereby an inward flame,  
Upon his fiery palfrey as he road,  
Accompanied with all his sportitue men.  
He cast his eyes on side, and saw by chance,  
Poor Flora sitting with her flock alone,  
He saw her, and supposed no earthly imp,  
But that she some celestial Nymph had been,  
Her feature, ah her seemly feature pierced  
Him to the heart, so fair he thought she was.  
Homeward he road unto Agenor's court,  
But thinking still upon her shape divine.  
He praised her hair, her eyes, her seemly face,  
Her visage sweet, her fingers small and long.  
Ah quoth he, what would she be if she were  
Bedecked with gems, in steed of levy boughs,  
How would she look if she in costly robes,  
Were clothed, in steed of homely country rags.  
But what Driano, what meanest thou, saith he,  
To talk of such a ragged country drudge?  
If she like thee, thou mayst command her love.  
Command it? yea, and force her thereunto.  
Come Mylo, come, make haste, and shun delay,  
Do what thy Lord Dryano bids thee do,  
Go to that sweet-faced wench whom late I saw,  
Sat keeping sheep, as we from hunting road,  
Go to her: tell her that I burn in love:  
Say Lord Dryano likes thee wondrous well:  
And bring her with thee, which if she deny,  
(As she dares not, I hope) entreat thou her,  
And woo her in my name as I know well,  
Thou canst it do, and doubtless she will yield.  
He made all haste to do his Lords command,  
And found her feeding grasse-devouring herds.  
Fair maid saith he, Lord Dryan, whom ere while  
From hunting road through these sheep-hanted fields,  
Enchanted with thine heart-alluring shape,  
And burning in thy love, and sweet desire,  
entreateth thee forthwith to come to him▪  
I say Dryano, that renowned Earl,  
Whose valiant heart, not Mars could make to yield,  
Now captivated with thy comely form,  
Confesseth him thy prisoner to be.  
Come with me then, and yield to his desire,  
He'll use thee well, thou shalt be his delight.  
Out paltry peasant, out whoor-seeking knave,  
Go seek (quoth she) thy master queans else where:  
But 'tis no marvel though he loves an whore,  
What's bred in flesh will never from the bone.  
They say his Sire Eristo hanged was,  
For slandering a chaste and guiltless Queen,  
He had but right, if he were hanged too:  
Who so delights in seeking after whores.  
Go tell Dryano that I scorn to love  
The King himself, much less Eristoes' son.  
Tell him that I a Vestal Virgin am,  
And will my vowed Virginity still keep.  
Go cogging copesmate, tell th'adulterous Earl,  
That Violater of Virginity.  
That Flora more esteems a good report,  
Than all his glory, fame, and courtly wealth.  
Poor Mylo nipped, went with a flea in's ear,  
And to his Lord recountered all her words,  
Told what opprobrious and reproachful terms,  
She had him given, and how she him controlled,  
Oh rascal (quoth he) what news bringst thou me?  
Couldst thou so hear thy Lord to be reviled?  
Couldst thou hear him be scorned of a drugde,  
And country trull, and see it unrevenged?  
Go villain, slay, kill, stab, pierce through that heart  
That strumpet's heart, which dares me so revile.  
Why runs thou not? But stay, let her alone,  
With more than present death, I will her plague.  
Go Mylo, say thou heardst her swaynish Sire,  
That Soothsayer vile speak treason unto thee,  
Say that he said, Palemon was by right  
No lawful king, but did usurp the crown.  
Say that that strumpet did the same affirm,  
And cause them both in prison to be cast.  
I'll warrant thee, my words before the king  
And thine shall be enough to make them die.  
Poor Mylo runs, and causeth them forthwith,  
By th'Officers in prison to be cast:  
They both exclaimed, and knew no cause at all,  
Why so great rigour should to them be shown.  
They curse that ship, that shattered board and bulk,  
Which saved their lives from drowning in the seas.  
But now the day that dismal day was come,  
Wherein offenders should receive their dooms,  
The king himself as judge sat in the seat,  
For since the time he ever used to do,  
Wherein his wife so falsely was accused,  
Next him Earl Dryan false Eristoes' son.  
Cassander who now wandered pilgrimlike,  
From place to place, and had no one abode,  
Herd that the king himself in judgement sat,  
And came to hear and see what there was done.  
When Thirsis and poor Flora were brought out,  
Accused by Mylo treason to have spoke.  
They did deny, he stoutly did approve,  
And manifest the words before rehearsed.  
They surely have (saith false Dryano) spoke  
These treacherous words, or why should Mylo lie:  
He is my servant, and long time hath been,  
I have had proof of his fidelity:  
I never yet in one thing found him false,  
And well I know no treason he will hide:  
And blame them not, though they themselves excuse,  
It doth concern the loss of goods and lives.  
Palemon forthwith moved at his words,  
A fatal doom against them both pronouced,  
Condemning Flora to revenging flames,  
And Thirsis on a gibbet to be hanged.  
A gibbet was erected by and by,  
Where malefactors should receive their bane:  
There faggots lay, wherewith offenders should,  
Which had deserved the fire, be justly burnt.  
Cassander when he saw this sweet-faced maid  
To be condemned, waxed heavy in his mind:  
He knew her not as yet, but yet his face,  
His ashy face began to change the hue.  
Now Flora was bound to a fatal stake,  
And Thirsis mounted on a gibbet high,  
Each of them 'gan their latest words to speak,  
And first of them old Thirsis thus began.  
O mighty powers by whose most dreadful doom,  
I crimelesse wretch, condemned am to die:  
Grant now at my last gasp, I pray you grant  
That my clear ghost, which heaven & earth do know  
Unguilty is of this so foul a crime,  
With spotless spirits may ever live in bliss.  
And as for Flora, whom (unguilty wretch)  
You have here made copartner of my doom,  
Whom all men think to be my child, and whom  
I call my daughter, she me loving Sire.  
I now make known, for now I will disclose,  
My secretest thoughts, she is not mine own child,  
But keeping flocks within th'Arcadian bounds,  
By Humber streams I found her in a boat.  
This Ring with her I found, which yet I wear,  
A chain I found, which I have left behind,  
And purse of gold, which gold I have disbursed.  
I brought her up, and when she came to age,  
A Grecian Knight stole her away from me,  
I missing her, made after her straightway,  
And thought to fetch my sweetest child again:  
But merciless he plucked me into ship,  
And carried me perforce with them away.  
When suddenly a stormy Orion rose,  
Mangled our ship, and drowned him in deep:  
We two by cleaving on a broken bulk,  
Were brought by chance to sacred Delian Isle,  
And by Apollo both of us were sent  
Unto this land, unlucky land of Greece,  
And now accused unjustly, to have spoke  
Most treacherous words against Palemon king,  
Which heaven and earth, and all therein can tell  
We never thought: and they, I hope they will  
Require our blood at our accusers hands.  
Cassander when he heard old Thirsis tell  
This sugared tale, did leap for joy in mind,  
His frosty locks, his snow resembling hairs,  
'Gan change the colour, and look yellow now.  
And to be brief, his face with red was decked,  
And looked as young as ever he had done,  
So Venus did him metamorphose then.  
So Cupid did his Deity make known.  
And now he surely knew she was his love.  
Scarce, ah scarce could he then refrain himself.  
From kissing her, and taking her in arms:  
But yet perforce himself he did withhold,  
And thought to see what further thing would chance.  
Palemon hearkened unto Thirsis words,  
And caused him from gibbet to be brought,  
Enquiring of him at what time he found,  
The infant in a bark on Humber banks.  
He told the time: Palemons heart 'gan leap,  
And willed him to show the foresaid ring.  
He showed it him, he straight way knew it was  
The very ring which he gave to his Queen.  
Then charged he to bring Flora unto him:  
And overcloyd with this so sudden joy,  
Embraced her fast in his aged arms:  
And kissing her, bedewed her with his tears.  
O my sweet child, julinaes' offspring chaste,  
My daughter sweet (quoth he) whom raging seas  
took pity on, and waxed mild and calm,  
With blustering winds did greet with gentle blasts  
And Aeolus with pleasant lullabies:  
Who hast at length outworn Fates frowning force,  
And not thought on, art found of me again.  
Come with thy Sire, sport in thy father's court,  
Palemons court. Now let Palemon die,  
Now let me post to chaste julinas' ghost,  
Sith I have found mine offspring now, her child.  
Ay me (saith she) my noble king and Sire,  
For all this joy, how can I sportive be,  
Sith by a villain thus I am defamed,  
Dryano lately as I fed my flocks,  
Past by me, and enamoured with my shape,  
Sent word to me, that I should to him yield:  
Whose messenger I with disdainful words  
Sent back again to his detested Lord.  
And therefore to avenge himself on me,  
These slanders false against us both devised.  
Now than Palemon, O if ere thou didst  
Love that chaste Queen, who was my mother dear,  
If thou dost love thy newfound daughter now,  
Upon these traitors let me be avenged.  
Kindled with rage he straightway caused them,  
To be arraigned who straight the crime confessed,  
blood-thirsty offspring (quoth this angry king)  
Lust-breathing traitors, progenie-uniust,  
Whose father sought to violate my Queen,  
And nilling yield to his unchaste desire,  
Did slander her, and falsely her accuse,  
And therefore hanged was, as he deserved,  
And thou (his issue) treading in his steps,  
Hast not aberred from his treacherous acts,  
But slandered haste her child, my daughter dear,  
In that she did thy wicked lust contemn,  
Now therefore as Pandion and thy Sire,  
Were justly martyred for their foul offence.  
So Mylo and Dryano now shall be:  
A just reward for all such traitors false.  
Then took they them before sweet Flora's face,  
And hanged them in aged Thirsis place.  
Now saith Palemon, Daughter come to me,  
And frolic with thy father in his Court,  
Thou seest the traitors are already hanged,  
What makes thee look so sad, ah tell it me.  
Ay me saith she, what comfort can I have  
Sith sweet Cassander drowned is in seas:  
He was my love, and I his sole delight:  
Would I were still a Swain, so that he lived.  
He lives (quote he) and caught her in his arms,  
He lives (saith he) preserved from the seas:  
O my sweet Flora, art thou yet alive?  
'tis thy Cassander which embraceth thee.  
What tongue is able to express that joy  
Which Flora made, when she beheld her love?  
What Tully can with eloquence declare,  
That joy which he made, when he saw his love?  
What Homer with his acquaint Pernasius verse,  
In greekish style, can half those joys express,  
Which old Palemon made, when as he saw  
Cassander, his found daughters sweet delight?  
And wondrous glad that Flora had found out,  
So brave a Knight, sprung of so noble race,  
With great solemnity he wedded them.  
Deposed himself, and gave the Crown to him.  
He made old Thirsis famous in the land,  
And much renowned through all his Greekish realm,  
Who sent for Mepsa, who was yet alive.  
She came to him, to their immortal joy.  
Each one was glad, each one contented was,  
And long time lived, and died in endless bliss.   
FINIS.