EROMENA, OR, Love and Revenge.  
Written originally in the Thoscan tongue, BY CAVALIER GIO. FRANCISCO BIONDI, Gentleman extraordinary of his MAJESTY'S Privy CHAMBER.  
Divided into six Books.  
And now faithfully Englished, By JA. HAYWARD, of Graies-Inne Gent.  
SIC OMNI TEMPORE VERNO  
LONDON, Printed by Richard Badger, for Robert Allot, and are to be sold at his Shop in PAUL'S Churchyard, at the sign of the Bear. 1632.   

TO THE NO LESS SINGULAR FOR VIRTUE, THAN EMINENT FOR HONOUR, The Excellently worthy, and worthily Right Excellent Princess, The Lady FRANCIS. Duchess Dowager of RICHMOND and LENOX.  
Illustrious and Right Noble MADAME;  
TWO special reasons embolden, or rather oblige me to expose this Translation to the common view, under your Gracious patronage; The one is, because its Original was by the Author composed at the command of that Worthy Pillar of this State, your deceased Duke of blessed memory, under whose princely tutelage it also boldly presented itself to the public eye, so as it was chiefly beholding to that renowned Peer for both its life and being: The other, that this Eromena, though a Princess, yet necessitated (for being an alien borne) to implore a protection in this Monarchal I'll, comes now, as well to express to your Grace the greatness of her obligation to the honoured memory of that noble Peer, for having so courteously protected her in Italy, as also to sue for and request the further continuance of a like favour (here in this Isle) at the hands of your Illustrious Grace, who are the now remaining part of that divinely composed piece of Excellency, whereof he was the residue; which (considering your known noble demerits, and princely courtesy) she hopes to obtain, for that fame hath assured her, that your Grace is as well a Patroness of Virtue, as pattern of Honour, especially finding them so innately habitual, and so constantly permanent in that Sex, and therewithal in a Princess, their choicest seat of residence: Vouchsafe then (Right Excellent Lady) that my obligation to obey so meriting a Princess, may excuse my boldness in ushering her Excellency in real perfections so excelling, into so excellent a presence as that of your Graces; Where with all submissive and reverend respects I leave her to apologise (as I am persuaded her no way defective heroical goodness will) in excuse of my necessitated boldness; whilst I (wishing that she prove as capable and fortunate, as (I am confident) she is both desirous and zealous to manifest her twofold obligement to so highly-deserving a Patroness) with your gracious benign permission, submissively kissing your Princely hands, with all respective humbleness retire myself.  
Your Grace's most humbly devoted in all dutiful observance JAMES HAYWARD.   

THE TRANSLATOR to the understandingly judicious READER.  
Stripped now of her Italian vail, presents herself to thy view Cavalier Biondi his Eromena, being the first volume of his works, highly esteemed in Italy, among the choicest pieces of that nature; as well for the good liking which that Nation bears to that pleasing way of Helidorian Poesy (I mean an historical way of Poetising, or Poetical manner of historizing, or displaying of the feigned seeming unfeigned adventures and actions of persons real, masked under the vizard of invented names:) As also for the Authors peculiar way of imbellishing it more frequently with ethical solidity, than superficial Rhetoric; which gained so much on the Italian humour, as it induced divers of that Nobility to procure him to second it (as since he hath done) with another Tome, called Donzella Desterrada, so adorned with elevated grave conceits, and variety of strange (though aptly interlaced) occurrences, that their desire being thereby rather exceedingly augmented, than (in the least measure) satisfied, incited them by (than more than ever) earnest solicitations to re-importune him to close up what in these two remained unfinished, with a third and final Volume; which the Author (loath to disoblige so many deserving and noble personages) is now (some while sithence) in hand withal, having in its infancy named it, Il Coralbo, being (for the better suiting with his years) the graver of the three; so as he intends not to show thee the way of pulling by the Curtain from before the persons in his former pieces represented, until he hath withdrawn his now well-nigh wearied pencil from his, as yet, little more than half portrayed Coralbo.  
Mean time, if thy liking sympathise any whit with that of the Italians, I may then hope for thy gentle approvement of having employed some vacant hours in translating this piece, which, indeed, might well have merited an abler Pen, and in that kind of employment more versed than mine; though I would not willingly (for all that) be taken (or rather mistaken) for a Dictionary-tutred Linguist; but rather the meanest proficient among those, whose Genius (in their less experienced years) never either rounded them in the ear with that French Adage, La pierre sovent remuée n'amasse pas volontiers mousse; Moss seldom doth enfold that stone that's often rolled. Or was ever so providently cautelous, as to admonish them, that the securest survaying of Transmarine territories was in a Map in ones Chamber; and the safest conversing with Transalpinan Transalpeninan, or other remoter Nations, was by discoursing privately in ones study with Raleigh, Sands, Villamont, Maierne, etc. Whereunto seemeth to allude that of Martial, 
Aethereas lascive cupis volitare per auras?  
ay, fuge, sed poteras tutior esse domi.  
Hast thou a longing gadding vein  
throughout the world to room?  
Go, post away; yet know, thou mightst  
have lived more safe at home.   
But suffered their greener youth to be swayed by an innate and unresistable desire of going themselves (more superfluously curious, thou wilt say, than judiciously considerate) to search after such outlandish flowers as best liked their fancy, & having found to gather & crop them off their proper stems, where they naturally grew (for doubt of receiving them at a second hand withered, vertuelesse, or adulterate) though necessitated for arriving at them, to force a passage through many a bushy brake, and thorny thicket, besides the often hazarding the pricking of their fingers to the quick, in reaching at them, so fenced and entertwined with sharp-pointed brambles, and smart-stinging briers; Howbeit, thou mayst hereafter expect a participation of the gleaning of some of them, not much perhaps declined from their native beauty, odor, and virtue: For the sooner accomplishing whereof, it shall prove no slender encouragement to have prevailed so far with thy courtesy, as that the acknowledgement of my being sensible of my own incapability may be accepted in excuse of my not voluntary undergoing (by the Authors assent and privity) the burden of this Translation, more for the satisfaction of some noble Friends of mine, (if the weakness of my deserts, supported only with a desire of honouring merit in the proper sphere, where it both resides and moves, may presume so to term them) than for any overweening confidence I ever durst repose in my own far short sufficiency, or rather selfe-conscious insufficiency of being able to accord the far discording strings of two so different languages. Yet if this cannot satisfy thee whom I have styled, an Understandingly judicious Reader (than whom, I know no other fit for either my judge or censurer) do thou then but ease me of a labour (which I doubt will be imposed on my unwillingness) in translating his Donzella desterrada; which (perhaps) ere thou hast brought to a final period, will give thee cause to entertain a milder opinion of the no less well-meaning than unwilling employment of my as yet bashful maiden Pen, in a task of this kind not the easiest; on whose behalf I dare yet confidently (and that without presumption too) aver the same to be, though (in respect of my not yet fully renewed acquaintance with my native tongue) not elegantly; yet (by the furtherance of my twice two Summers assidual conversing with that Nation at their native home) faithfully (not paraphrased, but) translated. Seeing that I have (as oft as they would endure the being new cast in an English mould) used the Authors own words, rarely ever (unconstrained) varied any phrase of his, and never I am sure strayed beyond the limits of either his matter or meaning; wherein (upon the importunity of some deserving spirits) I have been the more charily observant, to the end, that such as desire to make that (no less pleasing than stately) language their own, might, without any great difficulty to their (as I presume thou wilt confess) no small furtherance in that study, master this Original, for depth of language not inferior to the best I ever yet saw published by any of that nation; For which, as I expect not the least stroking of applause (it being no other than a recreative employment, or rather but the immature fruit of some spare hours, stolen from the Orchyard of recreation) so fear I not the ghastliest frown of censure, knowing that the scope of these mine (how slender soever) endeavours, aim no less at their profit than delight, from which, lest I detain them too long, I bid thee and them, Farewell.  
YEt ere thou pass, a word, and that's but this,  
Think not all's mine that here thou findest amiss.  
The Plot and Authors way may chance come short  
Of pleasing all; if so, then blame him for't;  
Suffice it me t'express him in our tongue,  
And neither do his Muse nor meaning wrong;  
Since to th' Interpr●●●● 'tis held a blemish,  
To change or add, no less than to diminish.  
If language thou expects, then poor not here,  
But Sidney read, whose Pen ne'er yet found peer.  
Some faults here may prove mine, that I'll confess;  
Yet load not me with th'errors of the Press.  
Man's apt to err; and many a first edition,  
For its escapes pleads Custom and Tradition;  
And so must this, since, What's once done and ended,  
Can ne'er by after-view be well amended.  
To quote all 'scapes might wrong thy patience; then  
Correct but these more gross ones with thy Pen;  
The sense will help thee give the rest their due  
Meaning, and order both.  
Once more, Adieu.   

ERRATA.  
IN pagina 2. lineaque 3. for became, read, and become. p. 5. l. 20. for seems, read, seems unto you. p. 7. l. 4. for my, read if my. p. 25. l. 27. for setting, read settling. p. 25. l. 46. for honour, read house. p. 34. l. 38. for weighed, read weighing. p. 45. l. 30. for commending, read commanding. p. 47. l. 16. for houses, read household. p. 55. l. 32. for time, read tune. p. 55. l. last, for disdain, read destiny. p. 61. l. 46. for chief, read choice. p. 62. l. 40. for him, read them. p. 74. l. 3. for put in, read put in for. p. 83. l. 26. for at, read a. p. 84. l. 3. for curious, read courteous. p. 89 l. 20. for leaving, read levying. p. 94. l. 32. for 〈…〉 his. p. 96. l. 34. for experienced, r. unexperienced. p. 98. l. 11. for force 〈◊〉 forces. p. 104. l. 20. for turning, r. stirring. p. 107. l. 5. for digested, r. 〈◊〉. p. 129. l. 21. for out of, r. out to. p. 131. l. last, for effects, r. affects. p. 〈◊〉 l. 1. for word, r. ward. p. 136. l. 15. for respects, r. effects. p. ●●4. l. 17. for their, r. third. p. 147. l. 17. for well, r. wall. p. 148. l. 3. for in, r. on. p. 157. l. 8. for for, r. far. p. 158. l. 16. for mean, r. moan. p. 177. l. 8. for excusive, r. exclusive. p. 192. l. 16. for his, r. her.   

To the most Illustrious and right Excellent, my most honoured Lord and Patron, The Lord Duke of RICHMOND and LENOX, Earl of DARNLEY, etc.  
Most Illustrious and right Excellent Lord,  
I Have brought forth to breathe the common air this Eromena, at the commandment of a Lady, who (pretending to have over me the sovereignty of an absolute Commandress) straightly requires at my hands, a devoutly-obedient, strict, and sudden performance of her imperious and not to be questioned commands. If she prove imperfect, she is the more excusable for being no natural birth, but an abortive of a few month's time, accidentally conceived without any hope ever to have breathed. And now I am constrained to dedicate her (thus unpolished) unto your Excellency, before whom she ought (indeed) to have appeared as richly endowed with ornaments, as you are with virtues. Vouchsafe (I beseech you) to accept, in excuse of my boldness, the necessity of my obedience, by receiving this Princess into your courteous protection, that you may behold in her the conformity she hath with your Excellency in nobility and valour, but (above all) in an eternal constancy, whereby as she grew to be peerless among all the Ladies of her time, so makes it also your Excellency become singular among all the Cavaliers of this our age. The Lord God grant your Excellency all increase of felicity, whilst I, with reverend affection, humbly kiss your hand.  
Your Excellencies most humble and most devoted Servant, Gio. Francisco Biondi.   

To his worthy good Friend, Mr. JAMES HAYWARD, upon his Translation of EROMENA out of the Italian.  
THere is a sort of people use to be  
Most captious, though of least capacity,  
Who when, as almost still, they meet with Strains  
Too high and lofty for their stupid brains,  
They say, they see no wit in't; good cause why,  
'tis too far distant from the purblind eye  
Of their dull knowledge; whence it comes they sleight  
All that they cannot understand aright.  
I hate their humour; yet not so that I  
Should only on mere contrariety  
Praise all I apprehend not. Friend, your Book,  
(Although I partly guess what pains you took  
To gain the Language, how the Seas you crossed,  
What time, what travel, and what coin it cost)  
Yet dare I not ●●●mend, unless I were  
A perfect Linguist, and a Traveller;  
For to thy censure is required more art  
Than cunning or some Dictionary by heart,  
Or an Italian Grammar: he must sweat,  
And cool again, fare hard, endure the heat  
Of foreign Climates; and, what's ten times worse,  
Humour each people, keep an open purse,  
And a close heart, pass through such misery,  
You'd rather think his work well done, than try  
How he came by his knowledge: 'twill suffice  
The man that can consider, and is wise  
Enough to know the motive to his pains  
Was not vainglory, nor the hoped-for gains  
Of praise, or profit; nor to merit thanks  
From some great Lord his Patron: Mountebanks  
Of art there are, whose aims be these; but he  
Disclaims such baseness, shames to Poesy.  
His end is only that he may delight  
His Reader, showing how th' Italians write,  
And what their fancies are: Nor doth his wit  
Seek out some Satire to translate, lest it  
Should nip our vices of the newest fashion,  
So near, that some might think 'twere no translation:  
Nor covets he that to the world be known,  
He hath a Muse or Genius of his own  
Can teach his Pen a method: and for stuff,  
His Travels might afford tales strange enough  
To please the times with; but his wiser brain,  
Gives to your censure first a Stranger's vein;  
So a Translatours' name may faults excuse  
Not of his own, but of another's Muse,  
If there be any: for, who knows the tongue,  
May see he hath not done his Author wrong;  
But rather how th' Italian he refines  
In these his smother and more polished lines.  
Yet in the Author's praise, whom I nor know,  
Nor understand, thus far I'll dare to go,  
Knowing our Translatours' judgement to be such,  
I dare presume he likewise merits much;  
For had his work not been a piece well writ,  
'Thad known no language but Italian yet.  
THOMAS SALUSBURY. Ex Templo interiori Ar.   

To my worthily esteemed Friend, Mr. JAMES HAYWARD, upon his Translation of Eromena 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
Fair Eromena in her Thoscan tire,  
I viewed, & liked the fashion wondrous well;  
But in this change of habit I admire,  
That still in her the same perfections dwell:  
So have I seen Transalpin grafts to grow,  
And bear rare fruit, removed to Thames from Po.   

A l'istesso.  

FV l' Eromena parto felice  
Del' alto intendimento di Biondo,  
Et girava parte del mondo  
Si tosto quasi che vidde luce.   

In Inghilterra nacque, mandata  
Dipoi a 
* Venetia.  l' alma cittá donzella  
Picciolina nelle fascie, ella  
Diventó tutta Italianata.   

Il virtuoso Haüardo la trovava,  
Et l' ha fatto parlar buon Inglese,  
Maternella lingua del paese,  
Dove che primá l' aria spirava.   
JA. HOWELL, Arm.   

To his much honoured Friend, Mr. JAMES HAYWARD, upon his Translation of EROMENA.  
SPare minutes thus spent (most accomplished Friend)  
Much should I err should I not much commend;  
For thy retired hours, (by proof) I know,  
Thou in more serious studies dost bestow,  
As Engine, Stratagem, Fortification,  
Means to extend the confines of a Nation;  
In which as judgement doth already crown thee,  
Employment in the future may renown thee;  
Since in the Mathematic Art (I mean  
Those parts most useful, and whence we may glean  
An Enginiers perfection) I know none,  
In Theoric and Practic hath outgone  
Thee for thy time. On then in thy progress,  
As for thine own thy Country's good no less;  
Nor hast thou of thy travels made that use  
Which many do, to bring home the abuse  
Of Foreign Climes, their compliment, their fashion,  
Not their known vice, t'infect thy home and nation;  
Thy purpose and thy practice was not such;  
For thy endeavours have not been so much  
To see as know: for neither hast thou pierced  
France to attain her garb, but to be versed  
In her best Dialect; nor Almaigne known,  
To make their healthing, not their tongue thine own:  
Thee thine approved Temperance hath taught  
The Teutons lofty language, not deep draught;  
And to thy mind gave a more pleasing gust  
The Thoscans stately strain than loathsome lust.  
Of these thy ways I cannot but approve,  
Both 'cause I know them, and because I love  
To see thee constant in them; do but then  
Impart thy Talon to thy Countrymen,  
By culling out the choicest Foreign flowers,  
To plant in English soil and make them ours.   

A l' istesso sopra l' istessa Translatione.  
Dell' Eromena le vaghe bellezze  
Miraì in Italia con occhio gradito;  
Eveggolla adesso con l' istesse bellezze  
In tutte le sue parti: solament ' l vestito  
Parmi cangiato; Bench per richezze  
Non é manco all present ch'alhorá compito.  
Mercé ' l Haüardo diligent & cortese  
Che così garbata la vesti a l' Inglese.  
I. G. Ar.   

To his selected Friend, Mr. JAMES HAYWARD upon his Translation of EROMENA.  
WHat? laid aside thy Compass? from whose use  
No Art could wean thee or thy constant Muse?  
Or with the Circle art thou fallen at Square?  
Cause thy Direct and Perpendicular  
Lines want their due employment, that I see  
Thee practise language for Geometry;  
No, theyare thy Passatempoes fruits, and they  
Tasted by a judicious palate may  
Have a good relish, and deserve (though so)  
More praise than a more serious piece, and moe  
Than I'll confer upon thee; yet I owe  
Something unto thy gratefulness, that thou,  
Having by Eromena's proper file  
Been polished to the choicest Thoscan stile,  
Hast in the way of friendly commutation,  
Taught her the language of our English nation.   

All' istesso.  
L'A●tiera Eromena d' addobbare  
Con vestimenti à par lei pari  
Non bastano gl'ingegni ordinari  
Versati fuorch' in un' particolare,  
Ma chi in fatti d'arme esquisito▪  
Destro nel cavalcar ●'l navigare,  
Anco esperto nel' fortificare,  
Ed in scienze alter é compito,  
Alui di giure appartien l'honore  
Armar Heroice spalle coll' arnese  
Tutt' imbellito di lavor Inglese;  
Donque ardisco dir all tuo favore,  
Di guerriera degna tu guer riero  
Degno sei degno esser sol' scudiero.   

At yr unrhiw.  
HAwdd darllhen dalen liw dydd, hawdd siarad  
Hawdd siwrneio glenydd,  
I by'r iaith bod yn ieithydd  
Gorchwyl faith gorchest y sydd.  
THO. REVEL, Ex hospitio Graii, Gen.   

CAVALIER GIO: FRANCISCO BIONDI HIS EROMENA  

The First Book.  
CAttalampo King of Mauritania, had by his wife Algidosia (the Numidian King's daughter) a goodly, though too too numerous a progeny; Because the law of birthright (in that kingdom inviolable) was not liberal to younger brothers, of other patrimony, than sword and horse. The youngest among them, was a babe of exquisite beauty, to whom together with perfections of body, nature was bountiful of those virtues of the mind, which best beseemed a well-meriting Prince. Polimero (for so was he called) in growth prevented his years, and in knowledge and discretion the age of discretion; so as (though a child) he knew already what it imported him to be last borne, and what it was to be a younger Brother: Whereof although his natural generosity made him in some sort careless, yet the same influence that gave him a great spirit, made him also pensive in finding out the means, how he might with virtue ore-match destiny; and by making himself the forget of his own fortunes, verify, that the Wise man rules thestarres; his nature then being equalised with an education conformable, induced his Parents (alured with the splendour of so many graces) to dote on him as a creature singular, in whom the heavens had (with extraordinary partiality placed all these good gifts, which they ordinarily used to share among many. Metaneone the eldest brother (observing this their inclination, became jealous thereof) began so deeply to hate Polimero, that he (borne to endure rather any misfortune, than domestic hatred) purposed (though not as then arrived to sixteen years of age) to leave the country; and the effect had accompanied his deliberation, had not the reverence which he owed his father, persuaded him to a discreet dissimulation thereof.  
It happened that the Queen of Ireland, Catalampo's sister, (by relation enamoured of the toward linesse of her Nephew) sent him some precious gifts, and among those two Irish Greyhounds, of the goodliest, and best, that were in her kingdom: Polimero desirous to try them, commanded, that a Lion and Leopard should be led out of the den of the Lions, into an enclosure, near the king's Equerry, railed in with pales for such like baitings; which was no sooner performed, but that the Prince came unexpectedly thither. Polimero (courteously and affectionately entertaining him, and leaning on the gallery with him,) caused one of the Greyhounds to be led in, together with the Lion. The dog, as soon as he saw the savage beast, slipped eagerly off, with a great leap. The Lion (lashing himself with his tail) went on to encounter him; th' other (as if he had been accustomed, (all his life time) to wrestle with such like beasts) seeing the fierce beast make stealing-wise towards him, flung himself furiously on him, and with his fore feet keeping down his armed paws, pinched him in the eye, with so terrible a shake, that the Lion (not able to recover from under him, o'ercome with an extreme convuision) was constrained to forsake himself. If the wonder of the Prince was great, greater yet was the content of Polimero, who (having caused the rails to be removed away) willed that th' other Greyhound should be led in, with the Leopard. This dog (as if he envied his fellow) to shun the disadvantageous dexterity of his enemy, encountered so furiously in the air, that he shookt his back against the ground, and ere he could get up again, (seizing on his shoulder) tore it shear off his body with such facility, that an hatchet could not have done it more neatly. The Prince (well pleased with the fierceness of the Greyhounds, and desirous to have them) could not satisfy himself in commending them, which Polimero observing, proffered them unto him, and praying him to accept of them, the Prince said, Infante Polimero, I will not accept them as a gift, If I have them at all, I will owe fortune for them: choose you out of my stable two steeds, such as like you best; those I will play against your dogs at such a game as we shall agree on. Polimero perceiving that his gifts (merely for ill will's sake) were not accepted, and that (by law of inferiority) it behoved him to accept the proposition, replied, My Lord, sithence that you will not vouchsafe me this favour that the dogs be immediately yours, as I am, I cannot but obey you; But two horses are too much for a couple of dogs, It shall suffice me (so you be therewith contented) to choose out for myself only Flammauro. (This was a horse kept in the stable as a thing excellent, whom never any man till then was able throughly to tame; though he had already dismounted and killed above twenty Knights: all which Polimero knew well, and persuaded himself that (in winning this steed) he might content himself without discontenting his brother; confident withal that himself alone was able to tame him.)  
The Prince therewith contented, the wager was agreed on, but not the game, whereof many (that were disliked of) were proposed. Met aneone would have it be three carrieres at the Ring; when Impatient to stay the sadling of the horses, he saw (as he passed through Polimero's hall) some foils and blunt swords to fence withal; whereupon (his mind being altered) he said, Infante, Let him of us twain lose his wager, that shall with these foils receive the first foin of th' other. Be it as it please you (My LORD) answered Polimero; On this each of them having taken one, the Prince advanced himself forwards, making with his point towards the others face, and feigning a passage (by stamping on the ground with his right foot) stood still, expecting his advantage. Polimero (who well knew what opinion the Prince had of himself) making a show of fearing him, stood close in his guard, forbidding him entrance; The Prince (thinking to dazzle him) and so put him from his ward) feigned at him divers foins, but with so little judgement, that the Infante (seeing him lie open) touched at two thrusts his 〈◊〉 and hat: But the Prince loath to acknowledge himself the loser (every one crying 〈◊〉, that such thrusts could never have drawn blood, because they had not made any sign or impression in the clothes) and continuing in striking at Polimero, who warding his blows, and standing in a steady guard, with his point received the Prince in the midst of his breast (as he advanced forwards with a step:) who thereupon, all in a chafe threw away the foil, and (confessing to have lost) bade lead forth the horse. The Infante (seeing him in so fiery a mood) said unto him, My LORD; since that it hath pleased you, to let me win, that so you might bestow on me your steed, I beseech you to favour me in accepting the Greyhounds: (which the Prince refusing) they descended the stairs into the Court of the Equerry where they saw come the horse with his spectacl●s and covering, (which taken from him) he remained naked so well shapen and exquisitely proportioned, as that Apelles (though he had borrowed the perfections of all the horses in the world) could never have painted one more perfect Flammauro (seeing himself at liberty) made no more esteem of his bridle, than if it had been a small thread, and giving a bustling shake (wherewith he threw to the gaound the two horsemen that held him) after he had many times raised himself in the ●yre, took a full career towards the Prince, so swift, as he gave him ●o time to save himself: for rushing in among the throng of Cour●●rs, and (trampling down many of them, shrewdly maimed) he then (wheeling about,) bore down the Prince himself, who desirous to revenge his fall cried, Kill him, kill him. Every man with sword in hand strove to obey him. But the fierce courser (like a skilful fencer) kept them aloof off; until upon the appearing of some lances (as if he had known that his hurt could not be redressed by defence) he then quietly (laying aside all fierceness) drew near Polimero. Who (taking him gently by the reins, and turning towards the Prince) said: I beseech your highness, seeing (through the favour of the gods) you have received no hurt, to grant life to this fair beast for my sake. I will not, (answered irefully the Prince) but will, that he die. Upon this every man strove who should be foremost to come to strike him, which Polimero perceiving to be done in scorn of him, and not being able to endure it, lightly vaulted on the courser, and galloping a main speed out of the query entered into the King's stables, where (finding by chance the chief rider) he delivered the horse into his charge, as a special steed of the Kings; denouncing him his Majesty's indignation, if he permitted any one (not excepting any man breathing) to lay hands on him. The rider) astonished to see one of the King's sons come riding on such a horse, imagining that the exception comprehended no ordinary persons) answered, that he would obey him, and besought him to send for those horsemen, that were accustomed to govern him, whereto the Infante would not consent, but caused him to put the horse (now grown to be gentle) into a good place of standing. The Prince (in the mean time having understood whither the Infante was gone,) stood a good while doubtful whether he should pursue him or no, but pride and disdain boiling within him, he returned to the palace.  
Some there were in that very instant, that acquainted the King of these passages, who made as though he knew nothing thereof, expecting at the hour of dinner the coming of his sons (according to the accustomed manner) but observing Polimero's room void, and enquiring for him of one of his servants (come thither expressly for that purpose) he was answered, that he was in his withdrawing chamber, (come newly from abroad, somewhat hot and weary) but that he was well, and desired (with his Majesty's good leave) to dine alone.  
The King (attentively looking on the Prince) perceived his colour altered. In the mean time, Polimero returned from the King's stables, and (reasoning with himself upon the matter) was visited unawares by his governor the Count of Bona, who told him how the Prince (as he returned towards the palace) had rashly let slip that the death of some body should redeem the life of the horse; and therefore besought him to be circumspect, and for a few days to retire himself too (a country palace of the Queens called) Poggio; Because he believed that these words aimed at no man but him.  
The Infante (seeing the business fall out worse than he imagined, making show of embracing his advice) resolved to depart for good and all, and (taking leave of him) caused to be called unto him Carasio. (This Carasio was a squire given him by his father, who (having served him from his cradle) besides that he was by nature loyal, so dearly loved him, as he judged that he could not trust any other more faithful and more loving.) Wherefore he said unto him.  
Carasio, You see on what terms I stand with the Prince my brother. I am resolved to give fortune place; Only two things grieve me, the one is that I must part without the consent of my Sovereign the King, and my Mother; the other, that I have not as yet received the order of Knighthood; But now necessity must excuse me in the one, and assist me in the other; See that those arms which we over-saw some days ago be put in a readiness, with that little money that I have, and such jewels as you think may best stead, and less cumber me. Choose you out for yourself one of my steeds, the best in the stable; for me, I will have no other, than that fatal cause of my exile. And as Carasio would have said something, Polimero (interrupting him) replied; I know what you would say, It grieves you that I part, in respect of the discontent my father will conceive therefrom. It seems that my resolution is rash and overhasty not (having been advised thereon) proceeding (as you believe from some childish disposition. But know: that if I part not, my stay will occasion heavier discontents. I choose my departure as the lesser evil; many month's 〈◊〉 have I thought thereon, my resolution is neither sudden nor childish, 〈◊〉 grounded on manifest tokens of the hate of my brother, who will do me all the 〈◊〉 he may, during my father's life, and after his death all the mischief he please; I therefore (being of age to discern and know my own danger) were very simple if want of years should hinder me to eschew it. My father I will satisfy, (not with my presence, because I may not) but by my letters, and much more with my actions. Here is not any patrimony for me: we are to many brothers, myself the youngest of all, and not like to enjoy o'th' eportion than my brother's hatred; my father's love should not make me hope for any thing, who (being aged) must by course of nature dye shortly; and he once gone, who will protect me against such an one, as is naturally inclined to tyrannize over me: and believeth, that the deceitful love of the vulgar should edge me on to cause him lead a life full of misery and suspicion? Fortune (Carasio) is a woman, and consequently a lover of youth, seeing therefore, I cannot abide here, it behoves me (the younger the better) to se●ke her, find her out and retain her.  
To wait irresolutely for time, is but to lose time, and to bring oneself to such a pass as he can never amend the error of time. And though I were not in such danger as I am, yet must I go get myself a patrimony elsewhere, since that the spite of fortune made me be borne last, and the rigour of the law makes me (for being borne such) poor and miserable. there's none can deny, but that I do well; aswell, to avoid contentions with my brother (wherein I cannot choose but loose) as also, to take away the occasion of many vexations of the King my Father, whom I should not grieve.  
I will hence to Ireland to my Aunt, and then I will think on my journey as occasion shall require. See you dispatch all things this day in any wise, and prepare this evening a ship, the first that sets out of the haven. For I am most resolute that the Sun shall not eye me to morrow in Birsa.  
Carasio (having heard his LORDS irrepliable reasons,) without any more ado went to the haven, where (finding a ship of Sardegna with hoist up sails, and understanding that there blew a fair gale, and that she would part about the first watch) he having agreed with the mariners for their passage, acquainted therewith Polimero, who (causing Flammauro to be led forth) mounted on him, and (having awhile gently managed him without finding him any way disobedient to the great amazement of all those that had formerly seen him very capricious) feigning to go recreate himself to Poggio de gli Olivi, a palace of the Queen his Mother, gave order publicly to Carasio to come thither to him with the furniture of his chamber. Got out of the City, (and fetching a great compass) he returned again at night, and (finding Carasio in the place appointed) went aboard the ship, who having weighed up her anchors, hoist up her sails before a pleasant and gentle gale of wind.  
As soon as the King had dined, he sent secretly a Gentleman of his chamber to spy for Polimero, and (understanding what order he had given Carasio) was thereof well pleased, imagining that by that means he might avoid occasion of new broils; And lest the Prince should resolve to pursue him (wroth perhaps that his brother went away triumphant with the horse escaped from his anger) he entertained him all that day in counsel. The day following came to court the housekeeper of Poggio; who (seen of the King and questioned of the cause of his coming to the City, whilst he ought to have been an assistant in the service of the Infante Polimero) answered; He was come for some service of the house: And that as touching the Infante Polimero, he understood not his Majesty's meaning.  
How, understandest thou me not? (replied the King) what I would tell thee is; that, when any of my sons come to Poggio, thou depart not thence, but serve them as cause shall require. Even so do I, my Liege, (answered the housekeeper) and acknowledge myself blame-worthy if I did otherwise: But, my Lord, the Infante Polimero is not at Poggio. How? is he not there, (said the King very angrily) and having espied the Gentleman that had told him he was gone thither, he said; Did you not tell me that Polimero was gone to Poggio? I did so, my Liege (answered the Gentleman) citing with that his authors, who were some of the Infante's servants there present, who jointly protested that they saw him mount on horseback, and that he would not suffer any man come with him, but gave order to Carasio to bring (that night to Paggio) the furniture of his chamber: The keeper (amazed at so many affirmations) turning towards the King  
My dread Sovereign (said he) my Lord the Infante Polimero parted yesterday in the evening to go to Poggio, I know not where he may be; he came not the last evening, nor this last night, much less this morning; for I dined there, neither is it above an hour since I parted thence. The King (fixing his eyes on the table) knew not what to imagine, he thought first he might be gone to his uncle in Numidia, but that seemed impossible; considering the discommodity of the journey because of the sands: it being not likely he would undergo that journey secretly with so much danger, and besides he would have feared to be pursued and overta'en.  
Afterwards (reasoning on the old desires he had to travel) even in that also appeared difficulty, being he could not do it, without a great provision of moneys: But (the remembrance of his sister the Queen of Ireland come into his fancy) he imagined that for certain, he was embarked to go to her, and therefore commanded to see what manner of shipping had set out of the Port that night, and whither they went; and from whence they were; but finding that there parted no other than a ship of Sardegna, he remained more confused than before, not judging it a thing likely that he was gone for Sardegna, but that the ship had rather 〈◊〉 course of the strait of 〈◊〉 supposing that they could not 〈◊〉 land in Sardegna, because of the wars, (which he knew to be there very hot) enveloped with so many conjectures he went to the Queen, to whom he related what till then no creature living durst have spoken of; whereat she (o'ercome with an extreme heart's grief,) began the pitifullest complaint that could be.  
The King (not able to endure the sight of her in that plight) went out from her, and having sent for the Count of B●na, charged him diligently to search Palimero's lodgings, and study; and to bring him word of all whatsoever he found there: The Count obeyed and (making a diligent search of all) made an inventory thereof.  
Being come to the study he caused it to be opened, wherein the first thing he discovered, was a letter sealed and placed on the midst of the table with inscription, To the King my 〈◊〉: which the Count took, and brought unto the King, offering him also the inventory, which he refused: But opening the letter, he found it said,  
Sir; Among all the misfortunes, which I have hitherto in these my few years partaked of, the greatest is that I part without your Majesty's royal licence, which if I had done in way of disobedience, or other such like thing, my life would be loathsome unto me, neither could that joy be found that might any way case me. But (Royal Sir,) I hitherto ever have and henceforth ever will study to obey you: whereof although the obligation takes away the merit, yet bereaves it not me of that comfort which a noble mind receives in doing his duty: I am gone away, not for any curiosities sake to see myself free; nor for any desire I had to exercise myself in the profession of arms; Since that in the one I aspire to no greater liberty than to serve your Majesty, neither had your clemency denied me (in its time fit) in the other such reasonable satisfaction, and in such an equipage, as had been answerable to the honour I have in being your son. The sole cause of my going away is, Because the small fortune I have in the favour of my LORD the Prince, hath thereto advised me; Had I thought I could be able to have bettered the respect I owe him, and so become more gracious in his favour, heavens be my witness, I had never entertained such a resolution, knowing that next your Majesty he is that only one whom I ought to serve and honour. But seeing my conscience doth not accuse me of misdoing, I must needs confess, my behaviour to be such as cannot please him: And if my duty be to please him, but cannot, then am I obliged to what I can, which is, to absent far from him my presence, which so much dislikes him. Touching the last occasion of my departure I am not willing to say any thing, not meaning to excuse myself, by pretending, that I could not find any reason in my LORD the Prince, who indeed cannot do amiss in any thing he doth against me; But rather I humbly beseech your Majesty to hold me for faulty, condemning 〈◊〉 for my absence (though neither voluntary nor malicious) for which (I hope by the intercession of your gracious benignity) to obtain your royal pardon. I write not to the Queen my Lady and Mother, lest I thereby grieve her the more. Assuring nevertheless the one and the other, that I part hence with an Indeliblememory of being, of both your Majesties a most humble, and most obedient Son, and servant. Polimero.  
The King strangely moved at this letter (having called for the Prince) with an Ireful countenance thus spoke unto him. Metaneone, I intended (many days ago) to make known unto you your ill carriage towards your brother the Infante Polimero: but misfortune hath so prevailed, that I have differed it so long as it is now past remedy you are the cause that I have lost him, in which loss I yet enjoy this comfort, that you also have lost him, and that besides 'tis you that shall repent it; you are first borne, 'tis true; but by mere fortune; And he is last borne; by the same reason: But for his virtues worthy to be the first; And thou for thy vices worthy to be, not the last, but none at all; so much exceeds he thee in worth, that thou (because thou couldst not match him in equality of deserts) didst (of mere malice) endeavour to reduce him to those terms of desperation; Neither had thy fault been so insupportable, if what induced thee thereto had not been unworthy of a Prince; (who is obliged to love virtue, and not to abhor it:) yet if thou wouldst needs offend in such a case, than should thy fault have been a generous envy to emulate virtue, where it was; now with what face canst thou show thyself to the world? with what reasons canst thou excuse thyself? with thy hopes (perhaps) and interesses to the crown? Interesses of a Tyrant and no Prince. Think'st thou thyself surer of succession if thou wer'st alone? peradventure thou dost imagine the being of many brothers to be prejudicial unto thee, and among them especially him, that is most worthy: knowest thou not that the multitude of Princely issue in a royal● house, is that which assures the successor in his government; And though this multiplicity were prejudicial to a wicked Prince (as thou art) yet avails it to the public good, saving them a labour of seeking a master elsewhere, which cannot be done without endangering a state? Neither art thou deprived of the means of avoiding this hazard by out-going the rest in goodness, being a matter that lies in thy own power; and although it were granted that all thy suppositions were indeed as thou wouldst have them, yet should not all things be equally considered in p●rsons unequal. Polimero's qualities are not such as might give thee cause to doubt him, although (after my days) even the kingdom's crown were offered unto him: Seeing than thou hast had● oreason to disaffect him, and yet hast hated him, thou hast made thyself unworthy to be such an one as nature hath made thee to be. And let thus much suffice, for what concerns thee.  
Now touching what concerns me, I thee tell that in this case I am doubly interessed, both as a father and as a judge; as a father, I accuse thee that thou hast robbed me of my son, that thou hast made him a fugitive, and that thou 〈◊〉 lost him me; as a judge, I condemn thee to restore him me again: And that (whilst I live) thou be not seen in this kingdom without him.  
Metaneone (hearing these cruel words of the King) was even half dead for grief, because the ingenuity of his blood working in him, birred up from the more internal parts of the heart the seeds of virtue, sowed there by education, and till then dead and buried; but in an instant in their sprouting, quickened by the heat of blood, and revived by reproach; wherefore (kneeling on the ground) he thus answered, My LORD, I confess that never father with more reason bemoaned the loss of a Son; nor judge more justly condemned a guilty malefactor, than doth your Majesty: Only this one thing is wanting, that your Majesty (possessing the place both of father and judge) have, as being a father, too too much moderated your affections (deserving all immoderation for so worthy a son) and have obtained of so just a judge so unjust a sentence, as not to exercise the rigour worthy for so great a fault, against the wicked person of that caitiff wretch that hath so maliciously committed it: I beseech you (My LORD) that (stripped naked of all pity) you cloth yourself with the robes of justice, and that you severely punish me that have so highly offended you, I having not deserved to have any place (much less the first) in the book of your generation: I know not (My LORD) how it is possible that I (your son, and nursed with the crumbs of your royal virtues) have suffered myself to precipitate into so base a fault, borne to be a slave to my own sensuality (without having participated of any of your perfections) but dazzled with the lightsome splendour of those of my noble brother. My Liege, had not your Majesty condemned me to seek him out, I had besought you to favour we with that employment, not as a punishment or penance (for such to me could it not have been) but as a supreme favour, being assured that if I find him not, and though I find him, if I obtain not his gracious pardon (which I cannot pretend of other than a Polimero) I shall lead but an ever-dying life: And if my ill behaviour have offended you (my Liege) lost you a son and therewithal scandalised the world. I will endeavour with my future actions to deserve your Majesty's pardon: And that both my love and respect towards my brother may yield a manifest testimony of my repentance; and also that my future course of life (contrary to that I formerly affected) may give the world a good example. And although I be not worthy to be called your son, yet (seeing it lies not in the power of my fault to cancel that character of nature) I beseech your Majesty to favour me with some sign or assurance of my future reintegration into your royal favour, to the end that my conscience (stung with the foulness of its fault) be not so wounded with the imagination of your Majesty's hatred, as overcome with its infirmity, procure me that have lost you a worthy son by malice, to lose you also an unworthy one by repentance; which said, embracing the knees of his father (which stood as a Rock immovable) he humbly kissed them, weeping so pitifully that the King (not able longer to contain himself) raised him up from the ground, and (having first turned aside to dry the tears of his eyes;) Metaneone (said he) I am not a father so inexorable, but that I (seeing thy unfeigned repentance) can pardon thee.  
And though the departure of Polimero be grievous unto me, yet nevertheless so much prize l thy repentance, that thy becoming a new man doth temperate the grief I conceive of his loss: Howsoever I will in any case have him again, for my comfort, and thy service. I cannot yet imagine where he may be gone. Neither can I (by this letter found in his study) gather any thing of his journey: Read it, and to morrow we will resolve of what shall be done.  
The Prince (having read the letter) was well pleased with his brother's modesty, and thought the time long of embarking himself to go find him out, and bring him home again. But the Queen (being informed by the King of the conference had with his son, of the humble speeches he used, and of the unfeigned tears which he saw spring from his heart) prayed the King not to suffer him to go: whereto he had willingly condescended, if the doubt of showing himself too credulous (lest this repentance were counterfeited) had not confirmed him in his former deliberation: But the Queen (urging earnestly the business) with many reasons drew him at last to be of her opinion, they agreeing to send in his stead the Count of Bona, who in a well armed galley should suddenly depart. The Prince (as soon as he understood that the King was gone from his mother) went thither: And in the same manner as he had done with his father, (accusing himself of his ill carriage towards his brother) besought her pardon: But (perceiving that she consented not to what was proposed, touching his going to seek his brother) prostrating himself before her, he besought her with reasons so lively, and tears so effectual, that she (mollified in affection to see her sons reconciled) was content to let him go.  
The Prince forthwith caused to be rigged and trimmed up the Royal, which was a bastard Galley of three and thirty banks with six men to an oar, he armed her with twice as many crossbow-men as soldiers, and furnished the remnant with knights, and adorning her with double harness, tackling and furniture, he chose to take along with him for counsellor the same Count of Bona. By whom though he were advised that the Galley would only serve in the Mediterranean sea, as far as the straits, but that (being to pass thence to Ireland in respect of incommodity and peril of the long vessels in those seas,) it would be good to take along with them a spare ship for that purpose; yet resolved he to bring with him no other but the Galley, because she (being well rigged and maned) might overtake Polimero's ship ere she could reach to the straits (being that she parted but a day and two nights before them; in which time she had no good wind, but only one night and some few hours the day following, the rest of the time being calm as it continued to that very instant:) And if he should need to pass any further, he might then either leave the Galley in the straits, or send her back again, and there hire or buy a round vessel.  
The Prince having kissed the King and Queen's hands ascended into the Galley, and (causing the ghing to ply the sea with their oars) vanished in an instant out of the channel of Birsa, and leaving on one hand Porto-Farina, Biserta, and Capo di ferro, and on the other the Island of Sardegna, steered a course right on towards the straits, the Galley slaves being eased by a little gale that blew from the shoreward.  
Polimero in the mean season sailed very pensive (his vessel running the course of Sardegna,) he could find in himself no comfort because of the discourtesies of his brother, nor quietness for having in such a fashion forsaken his parents: The noble Pilot (who delighted much in his generous presence) knew well who he was, and (seeing him so heavy) imagined that there was some thing occasioned it (his age and constitution not being such as might argue melancholy.) Whereupon (desirous to make him merry) he said, Sir, If you were constrained to make this voyage of necessity, which (I believe) you do only of your own free will, I would imagine you could not be exempt from fear, being you go to a place where the landing is somewhat dangerous: If such be the cause of your heaviness (which I believe not) I beseech you be of good courage: Because (God willing) I hope (if you vouchsafe to mark what I shall tell you) to direct you in such a manner, as you may enjoy the sight of the wars without participating the perils thereof.  
Polimero (that purposed to go for Ireland, and had put himself in that ship only to get out the speedier from Birsa; and that till then understood nothing of that war) desired to hear: the relation thereof. The Pilot most willing to obey him, and assuring him that he should understand a memorable (though a pitiful) history, thus began.  
Arato King of Sardegna (whither we are going) had two children, the one a male named Perosphilo, and the other a female called Eromena: both so beautiful, as that the world never produced a goodlier couple; But that which chiefly adorned their fading and corruptible beauties were the everlasting perfections of their immort all souls, whereby the one hath already, and the other doth at this present show herself admirable to such as know her.  
The prince Perosphilo was grown up to about your years (being as I conceive not above sixteen) when after he was dubbed an armed Knight, he so manifested the dexterity or his body, as (leaving his home, and spending sour years' time abroad in most noble achievements) he made himself thereby (though unknown) famous and known over all the world. But (recalled by often messages from his father) he returned home with such rich trophies, store of good manners and languages, that (displaying them opportunely without ostentation) he both amazed and delighted such as were so fortunate as to enjoy the happiness either of his conversation or service: whilst he thus traveled abroad to pass the time without losing it; Eromena at home made such a benefit and use of hers, as every man thought he could not make a richer gain of his time than to spend it in admiring her; whose employments were a noble and solid curiosity of knowing things in their beginnings; a strict vigilancy to accuse and correct herself, if her perfections could have been capable of the least error; To speculate the means of negotiating with diversity of persons, and to put the same in practice with the measure of more and less, according to the difference and merits of each one: and to yield every one satisfaction, so as not any (how highly soever favoured) could presume to judge himself worthy thereof, so well known was her Incomparable courtesy that she participated it to all with a proportion so regular, that neither she in doing it (although a Princess,) nor others in receiving it (how mean conditioned soever) came thereby to lose or gain in the imagination of others.  
This court then (by means of these two princes) so flourished, as that the kingdom of Sardegna (though neither ample in territories nor opulent in riches) surpassed nevertheless in many things sundry of the greatest and most famous, for these Princes being young (studying only to delight and be delighted) by their affability and graceful behaviour, alured and won the hearts of all that knew them. In so much as nought else was there to be seen, but jousts and tourneys, entertainments of arms and love: so as such as came thither from other countries preferred Calary (which is the city where the King did and doth yet reside) before all others the most renowned cities of Europe.  
Among the principal dames of Sardegna, among the fairest and best esteemed of the Princess, was Talasia, Lady marquis of Sassari, a young Lady of nineteen years of age, brought up with the Princess Eromena. Who though married, had yet no occasion to leave the court, because her husband (a harsh fellow, but of a great spirit) served the King as Admiral of his fleet.  
Perosphilo at his return home was two and twenty year old, during all which time Love could never get any victory over him, being ever till then daunted with the Majesty of his virtues, employed in so many heroic actions: But (espying him now idle) thought it the fittest time to bring him under his obeisance, and (because he had been his wilful enemy) with a miserable and tragical success.  
The Lady Admiral kept continually the Princess her company, neither came the Prince ever to the lodging of his sister, but that he there found her; And finding in her at first sight regard-worthy objects, he thought well of her, ere the destinies compled him to love her, neither imagined she ever that the favours of the Prince were other than mere terms of gentility; wherewith she being caught, began to love him, ere she thought herself beloved of him; yet as the native virtue of the one, served as a remedy to quell down the growing fire; so the seemly modesty of the other (fearing to presume too high made her conceal that flame, which in the end reduced to ashes both her life and honour.  
The Prince (in his long travels) lighted on a thousand occasions of love, which he eschewed, to shun any thing that might disturb the honourable course of his worthy enterprises; and now, freed from this care (as though other occasions deserved not such or greater obstacles) he suffered himself to be bound, and being but a Novist in that practice, thought at first, there was no such matter to be doubted of, but deceiving himself (and believing that fair parts in a beloved object, were only fair for being virtuous) he perceived not how the more he esteemed it, the more it pleased him, and the more it pleased him, the more it inflamed him.  
After that virtue (a greenefu●ll for such a fire) was somewhat dried up, and that its smoke (which were good inspirations) evaporated away through the chimneys of youth, the flame of the one began so lively to communicate itself with the flame of the other, that joined both in one they became to be (by little and little) an infernal Mongibello. The Prince meditating with himself considered (as a presager of what was to ensue) all the mischief that afterwards befell him. There lay represented before him his Illustrious deeds, his renown acquired, with those his royal virtues that purchased him the good opinion of the world, than the quality of the woman (not for being his inferior, but for being married) and because her husband was a noble and valiant knight, the King his father's servant, and a well deserver of the crown.  
But that which more than all the rest tormented him was his conscience, gnawing him so shrewdly, and stinging him so deeply, that the very Imagination of the sin was to him both penance and torment.  
This conflict between him and reason, lasted well-nigh two years, during which time he did as much as a well governed understanding could do, and thought to ease his heart of this conceit by listening to the marriage which his father treated for him with the Princess of Maiorica.  
But the subtle Lady Admiral (who was long before aware of the Prince's love to herward; and did oft hope that the heat of youth, and delight of enjoying would in time vanquish all the Philosophy of virtue and reason) when she understood that he had condescended to the conclusion of the marriage (so long for her sake suspended) was ready to grow frantic with the very thought thereof: But honesty so tempered her affctions, that concealing inwardly her grief she seemed in outward show to be more joyful than ever before: Mean time the disease creeping inwardly, brought her to her bed for not bringing her to her Beer, which had been better for her. The Physicians knew not what to do, her impairing was manifest, her disease unknown and strange, yea mere conjectures were deficient because the means (whereby to conjecture) were wanting; they applied unto her foments, but not such as she required, they gave her cordials, but not proportionable to her melancholy: so as (cestaine of the evil and despairing of the cure) they left her in the hands of fortune; The Princess (that truly loved her) conceived thereof an extreme grief, not omitting to visit her daily, having caused her to be brought to the Palace in a covered chair, and couched her in a withdrawing chamber near her own.  
The Prince (for all his resolution made never more to think of her) could take no rest, neither thought he that he could possibly live if she died, he asked for her often of Eromena, and was somewhat solaced in hearing the sweet harmony of her name. But finding one day his sister with bitter sobs bemoaning her as dead, he comforted her, intermingling among the offices of consoling, an expression of a certain pious desire he had to see her: whereupon his sister said, Alas, my LORD and brother, and well are you thereto obliged, for you own not that subject that is more observant of you than Talasia: with much ado could the Prince refrain from tears, when (concealing his grief) he said, Let us go (Madam) to do this charitable office, which I had done long ere this, had not the due respects of her sex withheld me.  
The Princess would first know what she did, and would go give her notice how that the Prince would come visit her. The languishing Talasia, that stood on the point of death, and who (having abandoned all earthly things) retained only the love of her Perosphilo; understanding that she should see him before her death, was the best contented woman in the world; and not wanting her gentile spirits (although deprived of all the rest;) sent him word, that she having never merited much, and now (being a carcase) nothing at all should exceedingly joy to carry with her to her grave the honour of being so highly and graciously favoured of her LORD and Prince.  
The chamber-windowes were all shut, so that whosoever came therein, saw nothing, but only heard a pitiful murmur of the standers by, and sometimes the languishing sighs of the sick Lady. Perosphilo was conducted unto her bed whilst the Princess would needs go know of the women what she said or did since she had left her.  
The grieved Prince knew not how to frame his speech, yet (with a pitiful accent) enquired of her disease; She (with an amorous heart's grief able to become visible in darkness itself, thanking him for having so much abased himself as to come visit her his most humble handmaid) answered him; that she knew it not otherwise, but that she must needs die. The Prince (in a manner illuminated by this answer, but much more by her manner of expressing it) suspected what the matter was indeed; but (desirous to be better cleared of his doub:) having besought her to comfort and cheer up herself, he prayed her to len● him her pulse, and there withal lest she night take cold by putting forth her arm;) he reached in his hand gently to it  
But she (feeling herself touched with that hand which she so much desired) not able longer to refrain, took it between her two hands, and (sweetly kissing it and bathing it with her tears) said unto him; Behold LORD, how that I, a dead woman have now more courage, than I had when I was lively: I beseech your Highness to pardon me, I presume too much, I know it I offend against mine own honesty, but much more against your resolution (which is by not loving me to compel me to die) yet this doth me good, that you (being the cause of my death) do now know it; you need feel no other pulse than my heart, which (being in you) you may keep (as you please) dead or alive, and by it give me either life or death.  
The Prince (o'ercome with supreme tenderness of affection) answered, (Madam) I have, and do love you, and if I resolved to strive to conceal my affection, yet did I it not with an intent to withdraw it from you, I beseech you, recover, and be well, otherwise my life shall end with your death. Scarce had he finished the last accent of his speech, when the Princess came unto them: Who, having asked her how she felt herself, said unto her, Talasia, I pray you torment me not by depriving me of you. All the world will have your sickness to be nothing else but a mere melancholy, and therefore the remedy lies in your own power; what want you woman will you be your own murtheress? If you will not recover for any others sake, yet do it for mine. See (my LORD and brother) the Prince is come to visit you, and I am sure that you cannot please him better than in recovering. The Lady Admiral (who had already chased away all melancholy, and who full of content thought the time long that she left not her bed) answered; The favours (Madam) you do me are such, as it is impossible for me to die, though I would; I am not so foolish but that I know, that it is better for me to stay here, and serve you, than to lie in the grave with my ancestors: I will endeavour to obey you; and do already perceive myself to have that ability which before I had not, I am toomuch obliged to my LORD the Prince, by whose gracious visit I acknowledge myself revived, for at his coming in, I felt myself so amend, as I now hold myself fully recovered.  
The Princess very gladsome (embracing her about the neck) kissed her, and (having together with the Prince accompanied her a good while) left her, being well pleased to see manifest signs of her amendment, neither deceived she herself therein; for in eight day's space she returned in her former plight both of health and beauty.  
Perosphilo, having thus (under the pretext of pity) given reins to sense, thought the time tedious till he should enjoy her; and meeting her at his sisters, agreed to speak with her that night, being to enter into her house through a secret door, (standing towards an alley frequented of few;) her husband was then executing his charge in the fleet on suspicion of the King of Corsica, who gave no obscure signs of enmity: Because he requiring for wife Eromena the Princess, Arato denied her him (seeing his daughter not thereto inclined) this King (who is called Epicamedo) being of a crabbed nature, pimple-faced and a cripple: Whereupon pretending old titles to the Island of Asinara, a natural member of Sardegna (it seemed) he would by this pretext molest that kingdom.  
Now the Lady Admiral had in her house many maids and women, to whom she would not trust herself, believing she might better commit her life and honour both into the hands of Prodotima her slave (with many courtesies obliged unto her;) who withal was already (some time passed) a servant in the Admiral's house; and she (seeing herself become her mistress treasurer of a secret of such importance) was infinitely glad thereof, hoping to reap therefrom no ordinary profit; she was borne in Orcano and taken on those shores, when she (running away with her lover) endeavoured to save herself from the fury of her parents, that came pursuing her, not because they cared either for her or for the honour of their blood (she being but basely borne) but because at her parting away she had broken up the chest in the warehouse (where her father was factor) and stolen there-out the money.  
And (because matters ill begun end worse) her fortune was to escape her parents, and perish among strangers, for the galleys of Sardegna being (by a great tempest) weather-beaten and driven to that shore, the two Fugitives (spied by the Galley-slaves) were by them first taken and stripped, and then presented to the Admiral.  
Andropodo (which was the secret lecher) was put to serve in the stable, and she (being an artificial dissembler) knew so well how to work for herself, that she was withdrawn from base slavery to services more civil, about the person of her Mistress. And now (perceiving herself employed in affairs of so great consequence) she (with well composed words) promised her utmost help, and being rich in invention, discoursed upon the manner and means of the coming of the Prince with such circumspection, as the poor Talasia thought it impossible to perceive it herself, much less her husband; and gave her forthwith (in earnest of her liberality) two hundred crowns of gold. At the appointed hour came Perosfilo (armed with a sword, a little buckler, and a half coat of mail) so secretly, as that not any of his servants were any way privy to his going, because some days before he had begun to lock himself in his chamber, with a devise that lying a bed, he could with a little cord, open and pull towards him the door; so now also he caused himself to be set a bed, but as soon as the Gentlemen that waited on him were gone, he put on his clothes himself, and getting out by a secret ladder went on to the Admiral's house, where he needed not to touch the door, so vigilant was the villainous Prodotima, who (expecting him, with the door under-shut) suddenly lead him the way in. It's needless to tell you of the joy and pleasure of the two Lovers, because the imagination unable to conceive it, deprives the tongue of the ability of expressing it: let it suffice, that they did their best to recompense the two years' time, lost to their loves, with the peril of death incurred by her in her last sickness; and well might they do it, there concurring in them both, love, beauty, and youth, to make them humanely happy.  
This practice continued happily, until such time as Prodotima (rewarded by her Mistress, and enriched by the Prince) began to desire to enjoy in liberty the selfsame pleasures with her Andropodo But knew not what course to take, because to run away was a difficult matter, and to delay time grieved her; not so much, because it is a thing ordinary to expect with impatience, the fruition of dishonest desires, as because she (hoarding up every day more gifts and coin) doubted lest the abundance thereof should redound more to her peril, than profit; just as it chanced her, when she was taken with the Galleys. At length after she had a long time conceited divers projects, she ran her head into the most detestable mischief that ever was heard of in the world; and there, (without passing any further) she stayed: this alone seeming unto her to be the way to re-have their liberty, regain her sweetheart, and to enjoy happily her ill-gotten riches. Wherefore having caused Andropodo to come unto her, (before she came to the purpose, she lessoned him what he should say, if by chance any body had observed them talk together,) and then afterwards she thus began.  
Andropodo, I will not make thee any long stories of my love, nor of the losses and sufferings I have endured for thy love's sake, as well because thou already knowest them, as also because I have no spare time at this present to lose in matters so superfluous, it shall suffice me only to remember thee, how that I have been robbed, and that I am now a slave, for nothing else but for loving and following thee; not making any reckoning of the rest, as the loss of honour, country and friends, because I ever have, and yet do prize all as nothing in comparison of thy dear self alone.  
What I have to tell thee is, that I, desirous we might recover again our liberty, (among many ways by me thought of) have found out only one easy, and (as I believe) without any danger. But that which should cause us to desire it the more (although it be of itself desirable) is, because we now are in case and ability of enjoying it sweetly, without being beholding to any, myself being worth between jewels and money near about six thousand crowns, by what means I came by them, thou shalt understand with the rest: But first, thou shouldst not marvel, why I have till now concealed this from thee, because it was a matter of exceeding great importance, and though I well know that I may assuredly trust thee in any thing, yet know I also, that if I had made thee privy thereto, I could not have refrained from being good unto thee, and thou by spending, hadst given occasion to others of being inquisitive, how thou couldst come by those moneys, and so our affairs might have been peradventure endangered.  
Then discovered she unto him the love between the Prince and her mistress, showing him all the presents bestowed on her by them, and (taking out of her chest a purse) she said unto him, What I have thought of to be done, is this; that thou go to our Master, and tell him that upon condition that he grant us our liberty, thou wilt disclose unto him a matter of great importance, nearly concerning the principal of his interesses; thou must speak of me, not as if I knew the secret, but as thy fellow-slave and taken in thy company; assuring him that to know it he would not stand on granting liberty, not only to two but even to two hundred slaves; which if he promise (and that thou guess it be made in such sort as if he meant really to perform it,) then tell him, that I, (not able to endure to see him so highly injuried) have sent thee unto him, wherein if he doubt of being deceived, beseech him to come secretly, and his own eyes shall see the manifestation thereof. But if he chance to deny thee, and will needs by all means know the matter, then set not thyself about this enterprise, if thou hast not the courage to resolve to die in torments, rather than to confess it.  
The hazard I confess is great, but well recompensed with thy liberty, my person, and those riches thou here seest, wherewithal we will live all our lives time most happily. Here take these hundred crowns, if thou wilt go, let them serve thee in thy journey; But if thou canst not find in thy heart to go, then enjoy them, (but with such sobriety, as the air perceive thee not to have them) until fortune offer us some other occasion.  
The slave as rash as malicious (having suddenly made a brief discourse with himself, and balanced the danger with the benefit,) resolved to go, assuring her that no torment in the world, should force one word out of his mouth: only it seemed unto him a matter worthy of consideration, whether they might trust to the performance of their master's promise, seeing it lay not in their power to force him thereto. And Prodotima judging the consideration to be of moment, (after she had awhile stood somewhat doubtful) said unto him: We (my Andropodo) can never aspire to our liberty, but by some strange and unexpected accident, which the gods alone know, when any such may happen; as for me I can well stay for it, for though I be a slave by name, yet am I in effect a free woman: my mistress being my slave upon the matter, neither can she deal otherwise than well with me, who have in my hands both her heart and life: but thou, that leadest a painful life, canst no long time prolong it, without danger of thy health, yea, and of thy life itself; wherefore believe me, that what I do, that do I not for my own sake (because I can never have a happier nor better fortune than I already enjoy) but it is for thy sake I do it, without whom I can take no joy, neither in fortune, nor in any goods whatsoever; and albeit in an estate so highly raised, we ought to govern ourselves with all prudency, yet, if thou thinkest that it lies in our power to prevent all dangers, thou art deceived, for fortune will have a share in our actions, and for the most part we should refer ourselves to her. On these speeches Andropodo resolved to go.  
The fleet road then hard by Isoletta Asinara (to which the King of Corsica pretended title) in the port of Torre, distant from Calari a hundred and sixteen miles: and the way to go thither, passed through Sassari (a place of the Admirals) where he then resided for its commodiousness, who being there in his own house, was not above eight mile distant from the fleet.  
There accompanied him in that instant a high spirited young gentleman (his own cousin) the Count of Montevero, and with him the Baron of Frisano (his kinsman, brought thither by him to see the Admiral.)  
The slave noting his master all alone, presented himself before him, and said; My Lord, you wonder to see me here unsent for, but the occasion that drew me hither is of such importance, and concerns you so nearly, that I resolved by all means to come hither; being well assured that when you shall know it, you will not only take it in good part, but will also courteously grant me what I shall demand of you.  
The Admiral, who (seeing him come unawares) had eyed him with a dogged look, suspecting that he meant to fly into Corsica, but that being discovered, he resolved to come to Sassari; or else that somebody had enticed him to run away (which might be the better done under colour and pretext of being his slave) yet hearing these words, permitted him to speak all that he would. The slave (observing the coming of others into the room,) with a submissive voice besought him to make a show of bidding him do something, till such time as the company were gone away. The Admiral seeing him so circumspect, thought his suspicion might be vain, and (his hart telling him that something was amiss) he bade him do some services about the chamber, to set him a-work till he were rid of those that were there; then (having made him follow him alone into the garden) he commanded him to tell him the occasion of his coming. Whereat he kneeling down, thus said unto him;  
My Lord, the thing I have to tell you is of such importance, as, if it should be known, there is no man living could save my life: although then I (as your slave, and as a slave well used) am in all things obliged unto you, without having any reason of pretending any reward from you; nevertheless, I beseech you to be pleased, that (before I tell it you) I beg the liberties of myself and Prodotima, who (to tell you the truth) is my wife; and though liberty be the only thing that ought to be most desired of every one in the world, yet would I not in this case desire it, were I not of necessity (for the saving of my own life) constrained so to do.  
The Admiral (having heard these well compact reasons) absolutely promised him all that he requested; in case, the matter were such as he made it to be. Whereupon the slave kissing his feet, said unto him; My Lord, Prodotima sent me unto you, and (out of the obligation she owes you) lets you know, that your bed is violated by the Prince, which (if you believe not) she offers to let you see.  
The Admiral (who expected no such news) was ready to fall dead for grief thereof; but striving to encourage himself the best he could, he demanded of him many things touching that purpose: but the other (fearing to fail) said, he knew no more thereof, but that Prodotima could fully satisfy him of all. The Admiral (concealing what he felt in himself) sent him to the stables, bidding him say, that he himself had sent for him thither. Afterwards (settling himself to ruminate, or rather to rave on the case of the business) he could not imagine that the slave came to tell him a lie: neither held he him to be so simple, as not to know his own danger.  
Whilst he thus stood, there came to him unlooked for, the Count of Montevero; who (seeing him changed as if he had been sick a whole months time) asked him, if he felt not himself well? And being answered with, no; The Count said, that it might be, that he was not sick, but that it could not otherwise be, but that some great ill had befallen him. The Admiral (suffering at these words a deeper impression of grief) burst out like a child into an extremity of weeping: whereupon the Count (taking him by the hand) led him to the end of the walk, and having first seated themselves in the thicket of a grove, besought him to tell him the occasion of his grief, to the end that he might either comfort, counsel, or assist him. The Admiral blushing for shame of being found in such a plight, (after he had dried his eyes) related unto him all that the slave had told him: whereupon the Count (after a short pause) said unto him, Cousin, the occasion of your grief is great, not in respect of what is already happened you, (you being not the first that had a dishonest wife) but in regard of what may befall you, if you think to repair your honour; whereof (because of its difficulty) you cannot easily resolve: suspend (I pray you) your sorrow, lest by bewraying it, you mar all your business. Only this much I'll tell you, that though in revenging your wrong I were sure to lose my life and goods, yet would I most willingly forgo them, and think them well spent for your honour's sake. The Admiral (framing the best countenance he could) departed thence, to which place both of them returned again after supper, under pretence that the Baron was disposed to recreate himself: where after much consultation, they resolved that the Admiral should go disguised to Caleri, to assure himself of the act, before they would think of the rest, and to the end that this his journey might not be any way suspected; they took on them to go thence alone to Montelione, without any attendance, that those of the household might think they made this journey for some amorous pleasure. The slave sent they two days before with a spare Barber horse, which the Admiral was to ride on; lead by him a mai●e pace as far as Montecovo being forty miles, where he left him, having found another that there expected him, being sent there by the Count; which he led as far as Genevi, being forty miles more, w●ere after he had delivered him with the counter-signe agreed 〈…〉 a place without the Castle, he went thence a foot to Caleri. 〈…〉 Admiral, after he had continued at Sassarie, till such time 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 imagined that the horses sent before were somewhat reposed, 〈…〉 on horseback, very early, accompanied with the Count, 〈…〉 ping together as far as Montelione, where leaving him at a 〈…〉 Inn; he mounted first on the one fresh horse, and afterwards upon the other, posting on with such diligence that by dark ●●gh● he reached to Caleri, where expected by the slave, that through the stables conducted him to the house (to the lodgings reserved for strangers,) Prodotima came to find him out.  
The words were few, because they were to go thence to watch the coming of the Prince: she led him into the fore-chamber of her mistress (who was already laid in bed) and there hid him in the study, wherehence he might first see the Prince, as he passed by, and then through the door (which was to stand open) hear and see all the speeches and actions of his wife. He was well armed, because he came of purpose about a business of such importance, and wanting neither valour nor courage, had soon resolved with himself to kill them both; if his Cousin (foreseeing the danger) had not made him promise to do nothing else but assure himself of the fact.  
In less than a quarter of an hour came the Prince, and passed through the fore-chamber with a light that Prodotima bore before him. The Admiral saw him, and knew him he heard their amorous compliments, their reciprocal affections, the smacking of their kisses, his putting off his clothes, and going to bed. I wonder that madness, jealousy, and fury, made him not forget his promise.  
Prodotima gone out, he would not stay to hear any more (not willing to trust too much to his own patience.) Of her would he needs know in many particulars, and (amongst other things) the time and continuance of this practice. She, concealing such things as might condemn herself for a mediatrix, told him, that it had not lasted many days, and that she (for her part) had absolutely denied her assistance, when she was thereto requested by her mistress, who therefore (mistrusting her) had caused the Prince to threaten her, the self same evening, when her mistress went herself in person to open him the door (as she believed she had done ofttimes before her being made privy thereto) so that she for fear of her life could not choose but obey her.  
The Admiral, after he had seen and heard too much, went his way, charging her to serve them with a good countenance, until such time as he gave her further order; promising her, that (over and besides her liberty) he would therefore well reward her.  
The slave having put the horse to stand in a stable without the house, found him (when he went to saddle him) so tired and weary, as he could not possibly cause him to get up on his feet, so as the Admiral knew not what to do, and (not able to endure any longer the sight of his house, or of Calari, no nor of the sky that covered them) went out of the city on foot; giving the slave money to hire another horse, as far as Genevi, whitherward he was to come after him and overtake him by the way.  
The subtle hangman (well knowing where to find choice of horses,) chose out an excellent good one, paying well for him, and leaving the other in pawn thereof, received of his master when he overtook him, the counter-token for getting again the horse at Genevi; whither he walked at his leisure. But the Admiral carried by Furies road those five and thirty miles in two hours, and with the other two horses came to Montecovo ere the Count was stirring out of his bed; where (almost dead with weariness, hunger, and grief) he told him of all that had happened him.  
The Count (although astonished to hear him) answered nothing else, but that he had well done to hold his hands, praying him to repose himself a little, as he had need for not having slept a wink the two former nights, and that afterwards they would discourse of the business with more conveniency and leisure.  
The Admiral (although he had more desire to die than to live, yet o'ercome by necessity having refreshed himself with a little meat,) without stripping himself of his clothes, lay him down to sleep a nap on the bed's side. And afterwards awaking with a a shivering fear, caused by his imagination and passion, he found the Count awake, who spoke thus unto him:  
Cousin, I have thought on your case, wherein I find you may proceed two manner of ways, the one profitable, but contrary to the common opinion of our country; the other (by the same opinion) honourable, but ruinous: in the first, is laid before you; how that he who offends you is your Prince, & such a Prince, as (this fault excepted) might be entitled the worthiest that the world enjoys.  
Add hereunto his discretion in doing what he doth, in a manner so secret, that no living creature can come to know it, and what you esteem an offence is rather an amorous trespass, than an injury. Moreover if we ought to ground our resolutions on the common opinion, we shall find that a Prince takes not away the honour of his subject in enjoying his wife; which if it be allowed, though all the world know it, why will not you allow it now that no body knows it? Infinite truly are the number of such, as will laugh at you in their sleeves, if you but do otherwise; because honour is indeed in the end nothing else, but a mecre opinion, and many nations mock and leer at us, who with so great and so many dangers endeavour to protect the chastity of our wives, persuaded in ourselves that their dishonesty spots us with infamy.  
Therefore, if you will follow this course, you shall (besides the saving of your honour) reap thereby many commodities, you shall find yourself freed of a grief that so much troubles you; and consequently, letting all things pass, you need not think of any thing else, than of your course of life.  
And may withal (if jealousy should yet torment you) in some seemly fashion th' wart those loves by causing your wife to come to Sassari; you shall save your own patrimony, and the estates of divers others; and besides free from danger your own life with those of your friends and kindred.  
The other way of proceeding is, for such as believe, that this case marcheth in the very front of the first files of honour, which if you'll follow, you'll unclothe your own shame, and thereby procure yourself many losses and disgraces, as to be branded with the infamous name of a Traitor, and utterly lose your goods, country, honour, dignities and friends. The choice therefore lies in your own hand, and on you alone depends the election thereof.  
This said, he pawzed awhile, till (seeing the marquis stand silent, without making any answer) he thus proceeded: I believe, that these reasons shall not (peradventure) obtain of you that credit, as I wish they could; in that you may persuade yourself that I propose them, only to free myself from the community of your perils; but (to clear you of that doubt) I hear seriously protest unto you, that I am most willing to incur with you any danger whatsoever.  
The Admiral (looking somewhat more cheerful) answered, (Cousin) I have not so little judgement, but that I know you; though your reasons indeed are more profitable than honourable, my business caries with it no other balance than that of honour, which if in this case it cannot be taken from me by the Prince, because he is a Prince; no more can he deprive me thereof in another case, for being such a person: and Princes by this reason should be less powerful than private men, for such (for being private men,) might and are able to do injuries, if they would, whereas Princes cannot so do (for being Princes.) But this (cousin) is a false reason, found out and invented either by the Princes themselves, or by the women, who (being dishonest) would thereby defend their honesty; or by their husbands, who fain would under that veil hide their own disgraces. As concerning virtue, I confess the Prince hath heretofore participated of some part thereof, whereof he is at this present deprived, because true virtues are perpetual, neither are they ever found unaccompanied with others like themselves, so that when one of them is corrupted, all the residue are thereby blemished. Touching honour, I allow what you say thereof: but the selfsame argument of yours is sufficient to give you satisfaction; True honour (as you term or limit it) is that, which is found common in every one, as the law of nature is common to every man; observing this rule, I should have but small reason to find myself aggrieved. But there are certain particular laws, which although they be not observed elsewhere, than in places where they are established, yet can it not be denied, but that they are laws; and aught to be known and observed of every one for such. When custom hath brought a thing to become, (or be esteemed) a branch of honour, whosoever is not observant and obedient thereto, is dishonoured, not because it ought to be so in effect, but because we have consented that it should be so. I confess that to watch over women's honesty, with so great curiosity, is a custom altogether prejudicial: but we being thereto subject, must needs endure it; and so much the rather, by how much we are the more conspicuous & eminent in our callings. And if I would free myself from the bonds thereof, then would it not be said that I did it, because the Philosophy of honour taught me to despise this fantastical opinion; but rather for that avarice and ambition had induced me to become patient: so as I shall not only make myself subject to the sottish talk of the vulgar, but shall also be accounted of my Peers scorne-worthy, and infamous. As for my life and goods, the selfsame custom will answer for me; which custom will, that I prefer myself, and my own honour before all things: and that with losing all, I declare myself a rebel to Nature, which commands us to look to our own profit, and to conserve what we enjoy of hers. Touching my friends, I know not what to answer you, saving only, that the disgrace I suffer doth also reflect on them; what is my case to day, may be theirs to morrow. It rests that I tell you, that the Prince might have allowed himself pleasures without offending any man, as wise Princes do, who jest not, but where such jests are received for favours. The sum of all is, that I am resolved, that the lives of both the Prince and my wife shall satisfy the vengeance of my wronged honour.  
Seeing that such is your resolution (replied the Count) mine also shall be conformable to yours. And after they had proposed divers means for effecting it, at length they concluded on these; that the Admiral should sell a good part of his goods, who to give a colour to the sale thereof, was to lose publicly at play with the Count, sixty thousand crowns. That he should practice a plot with the King of Corsica, by the mediation of Mortiro (one of the Ambassadors that came to demand the Princess) a friend to them both, whom they were to procure to come disguised, and give them the meeting. That the assistance of that King should be sued for, with proffering him in recompense, the Kingdom of Sardegna. That they should in the mean time insinuate into the love of the Captains, Soldiers, and Mariners; but so discreetly, as their unaccustomed liberality might not cause them to be suspected. All which accomplished, the last thing should be the death of the Prince.  
The Admiral, after this agreement, seemed to be of better comfort, and considering how it would be well done to prepare thereto their friends; and particularly the Baron of Frisano, the Count thereto agreed not; but said that the foundations being once well grounded (which were the monies and the backing of the King of Corsica) their friends would be thereunto afterwards more easily persuaded.  
The day following they returned to Sassari, where taking on them to be merry, and setting themselves to gaming; the Admiral lost some moneys, which he took out of his pocket, and then playing on ticket, lost twenty thousand crowns: under which pretext he had leisure to give himself over to his melancholy, and holding on his game (although the Baron with many Captains would have set themselves in between them, and the Count himself made as though he played unwillingly) in a few days, the Admiral resolutely lost threescore thousand crowns.  
The news of these losses were suddenly rumoured about the Court, and came to the ears of the Admiral's wife, who grieved extremely thereat; and not long after received from her husband a letter, with order, to find out such as would buy so much of his goods, as might make up the sum of sixty thousand crowns. Now the Prince being that night come unto her, she with beteared eyes, showed him the letter: and he (glad of having occasion to gratify in any thing his Talasia) wished her not to trouble her mind therewith. Having therefore sent for the Admiral to Calari, (who came thither very unwillingly) he bespoke him in this wise: I understand that your Steward hath offered to sale your goods, which have for these many years belonged unto your honour, for which I am indeed sorry, more for the occasion, that for the thing itself; the King (my father) will not that you (being the second Baron of Sardegna) should (by being ruinated) become unable to serve him: repair therefore unto the Treasurer general, who hath order to deliver you sixty thousand crowns; make use thereof, and restore it again, by little and little, without discommodating your estate. The Admiral (who well knew the cause of this liberality) dissembling, kneeled down before him, and with most humble speeches, thanked him, doing the selfsame to the King; who advised him not to suffer himself by play, to be any more reduced to such necessity.  
The Admiral continued at home but a very small time, where it behoved him to make much of his wife, with no less art, than disgust. Returned back to Sassari, he wrote to his Cousin, to whom (as soon as he was come) he publicly disbursed sixty thousand crowns, acquiring thereby the praise and reputation of a loyal and generous spirit.  
Afterwards retired aside, the Count showed him the answer of Mutriro, the contents whereof was, that he would go to Assinara, in the habit of a Fisherman, where they were to expect him; they therefore retired to the fleet, and (taking on them to go a fishing) went so farreonwards till they came to Assinara, where the counterfeit shepherd expected them, and landing a bowshot distant from him, (leaving their Squires busied in making dinner ready) they walked along the strand, till they came to his Bark; where (dissembling the matter before his servants, there present, and ask him what he was? and what he there did?) they singled him from them; and he (with a seeming humility) followed them, till such time as the Admiral perceiving himself out of sight, told him; that the occasion wherefore he had prayed him to come thither was, for that he (resolved to avenge his wronged honour) was desirous to participate it to King Epicamedo, who by that occasion, might not only be revenged for the refusal of the Princess Eromena, but also impatronize himself of that kingdom, which they offered him, telling him, that they demanded no moneys; howbeit he might do well to employ such as he should have given them, in reinforcing of the fleet with more men and munition to pass over into Sardegna, when he should be thereof advertized. That the Admiral would stir up to rebellion the fleet under his command (having already purchased the love and affection of the Captains and Soldiers thereof) which he could the easier accomplish, because his was no rebellion, but a just revenge. That as soon as he received an answer, he would communicate the business to all his friends, whereof some of them had their lands and castles lying in the Province of Lougodori, over against Corsica, so as at their landing in the Island, they should find no resistance. That in these consisted all the strength of the kingdom; in that (the Prince being once dead) there would remain to King Arato, but very few soldiers, without either General or Captains.  
Glad was Mortiro of so goodly an employment, whereof when when they had sufficiently discoursed, every one returned to his own bark, agreeing within six days to meet again in the same place, where being accordingly returned, Murtriro presented the Admiral with a letter from King Epicamedo, whereby he accepted of their offer, promising all whatsoever they had required of him, specifying withal, how that he would send into the Island, twenty thousand soldiers, and increase the fleet to the number of five and twenty Galleys, together with this message sent he him for a present, a rich sword with the hilts, inlaied with many diamonds, and unto the Count a rich jewel to wear in his hat.  
Afterwards, having more particularly ordered a settled course for what was to be effected; the Admiral together with the Count, returned to the Fleet, and thence went away as if it had been to recreate themselves, together with the Baron of Frisano: to whom when they had communicated the business, he remained so troubled in mind to here of such an unexpected act done by the Prince, that loving both the Admiral and his Cousin (as it were) with an equal affection, he easily consented to make one in this conspiracy.  
Thence compassing about Capo Luogodori, they infected all those tributaries thereabout, whereof the principallest were, the Earls of Reparata, of Pussinera, and of Castle Rabone, with the Barons of janque, of Lilaraba, of Lagosardo, and of Villapeires. All these were present at the death of the Prince, except the Count of Montevero, who (with the occasion of apparent receipt of sixty thousand crowns, having (by the Admiral's appointment,) liberally given as largesse of his win in the army, more than six thousand of them) had so obliged the Captains, and all the rest, that it was thought fit to leave him in the custody and government thereof.  
The Admiral in the mean time, sent the King and Prince often intelligence of the great preparations of the King of Corsica, desiring to be authorized with greater power, to the end he might give order in the country of Luogodori, for the defence of that Cape (dangerous in time of invasion) as the nearest unto the enemy. Whereupon he received greater authority than he desired, and began first to fortify his own holds (namely) Sassari and Porta Torre. Thence (with title of Commissary General) he visited the Conspirers, and caused their towns to be fortified, their battalions armed, and many companies of soldiers to be levied all at the charge of the King's Exchequer, without a penny of expense, of either his, or his complices. All which accomplished (and nothing but the execution lest uneffected) he sent for the slave (under pretence of having the horse which he governed) who come, and instructed of what he had to do, returned to expect him at Caleri. Where the Admiral with the conspirers, came by night at the hour appointed, and were hidden by Prodotima, (after Talasia was a bed) in the study of the fore-chamber. After that the Prince had received intelligence from the Admiral of the King of Corsica's being up in arms, he felt in his heart (although he was the most valorous Knight in the world) a new effect of melancholy, withisome conceit or feeling of fear, whereat he was astonished: It seemed to him unlikely that Epicamedo (alone without foreign aid) durst move war against Sardegna (a kingdom well-near thrice greater than his, and withal abounding with warlike subjects.) And (being desirous to proceed on sure ground) he had sent many spies into Corsica, who conformably advertized him of the great preparations there, and how that all the troops marched towards Basilica, over against Sardegna; whereupon he often solicited the marquis, by sundry posts, to assure that Country of Luogoderi, till such time as he (having mustered up the horse, and armed men) came thither in person.  
All that morning, which preceded his death, spent he with the King and Queen (who grieved to see him so changed) and he angry at himself, strove to force himself to be merry; but his joys vanished in an instant.  
In the evening he determined to go sport himself with his Talasia; Prodotima led him to the chamber as she was accustomed, all trembling (as knowing what was to befall him,) and passed before the Conspirers. The Prince disarmed and unclothed himself: but the Admiral (not able to hold any longer) rushed into the chamber, just as the Prince thought to lay himself down, and (without speaking a word) thrust at him a full stocada, which although it pierced him quite through the other side, yet was it not mortal: The Prince (seizing suddenly on his sword that lay by him) struck at the Admiral's head with so main a force, that he (warding with his buckler) was not able to bear off the blow, but yielding thereto, the sword came to charge him so furiously on the head, that cutting through the Helmet, it somewhat wounded him. But the Prince seeing so many about him, and among those, the Earls of Reparata and castle Robone, (both his special Favourites) detesting, and wroth to see so great ingratitude, he said unto them; And to you Traitors, what have I done that you thus murder me? Thou hast done too much in maculating our blood, (answered Reparata;) now these were all of them of kin, either to the Lady, or to the Admiral; and the Count of Reparata was her own Cousin-german, who thought this fatal shame concerned him nearest, in that she had neither father nor brother living. The Admiral (who had forethought of the manner of conducting this enterprise) had beforehand furnished his companions with javelins, because, having considered the valour of the Prince, he judged it folly to regard the fair terms of Knighthood, much rather, in that he doubted lest the noise and bustling of their blows might endanger them; so as the poor Prince pierced at once with six darts, was not any more able, either to strike or speak. The Baron of jangue, and the Count of Pussinera, were (from the beginning) run to the bed, who (lest the Lady Admiral should cry out) held close her mouth stopped up with the sheets: her husband, (having made her rise up, and put on a chamber-weede) intending (because he disdained to kill her himself) to cause her to be strangled by the slave, seeing the Prince not yet quite dead, grew desirous (for his greater anguish) that she should give him his last wound, and having therefore made her take a Poniard in hand, he told her, his will was, that to revenge the death he had given her honour, she should resolve to kill him with her own hands; she (seeing him wallowing in a lake of blood, and how he though gasping for life, yet beheld her) laying aside all fear, stabbed her husband with the Poniard in the face, thinking to strike him in the throat-pipes (for well deemed she him armed every where else) and had therewithal sped him, had he not fallen flat on the ground; then turning towards the next unto her, which was the Baron of Vellapetres, she ran him in the flank, and killed him. The Admiral (in the mean while gotten up) gave her a thrust in the side, which pushed her upon the Baron of Lybaraba; in whose belly, she without loss of time, buried the Poniard up to the hilts, (aiming her thrust low, for doubt of sticking it in his coat of mail) and therewith sped him; but then, she beaten down with divers blows (and struggling to set herself forwards again to kill her husband) came to fall upon the Prince, where faintly kissing him, she breathed out her life with him; in that very instant, as he breathed out his last gasp.  
The Admiral seeing his plot brought to pass, at so dear a rate, as to have two of his companions slain, and himself wounded; knew not what course to take with their bodies, and yet needs must he have resolved to get him thence: when every one advising him not to lose any time about two inutile carcases, he thought his best and safest course was to be ruled by them. Having therefore bound up his wounds, he wished them all to go out into the Hall, to the end that those of the house (wakened with their bustling) seeing them jest (beating one the other with pillows) might believe that thence began the first noise: The beds being made ready they called for dice, commanding the servants to go sleep, under colour of having no man to overlook their game; and because many of them (considering how unfit it was to leave Lords of such a rank, not attended with as much as one servant) would have waited out of the Hall; they constrained them to get them thence, and by locking the doors after them, had thereby conveniency a little after to shift themselves away thence, without being observed of any. The Admiral had forethought of all things (except the two slaves,) whom then also he had not remembered, had they not presented themselves before him, so as they must have taken them up behind them on their horse-croppers, had not the death of the two Barons remedied that inconvenience. And because Caleri for the suspicion it had of Corsica, stood then guarded with some watch; it behoved the Admiral to make himself known unto the Porter of the City. They road all night, having twice changed horse, and taking the way of Montevero, arrived there the day following. There were they enforced to leave behind them Prodotima (accompanied with the slave) all galled and bruised with riding; to embark themselves suddenly at the mouth of the river Thirsis, distant but eight miles from Montevero, and thence to get them to Porto Torre, themselves without one minutes stay, (holding on their journey with incredible diligence) arrived the night following at Sassari.  
As the Pilate held on his discourse, there appeared in sight a small Bark, sailing here and there without any order or direct course, which being showed them by Polimero, they judged it to be some one, that had been robbed by Pirates, and left as a play-game to the winds; (desirous to know the truth) they bore up to her. But because she was yet afar off, the Pilate (requested to continue his History) thus proceeded.  
It grew to be far days, and Talasia's Gentlewomen expected that Prodotima should come to call them up, as she was wont to do: but dinnertime being come, and no Prodotima as yet appearing, and the Servingmen on the other side (marveling they saw not in the stranger's lodgings, the Knights come thither with their Master the night before) went on towards the fore-chamber, where Prodotima lay, where knocking many times, and hearing no body stir within, they began to doubt, of I know not what. Whereupon, bouncing again many times and often, they resolved without any respect, to throw down the door, which when they had done, and found not their Prodotima, onwards they went into the chamber, and there they saw the pitiful spectacle of four bodies lying weltered in blood; whereof (to their great horror) they knew at the first sight their Mistress and the Prince. My tongue cannot express the effects of grief and amazement, that seized on these poor people, neither believe I, that they can be imagined, unless the imagination had experimented a like disaster: they could not as much as guess how the matter stood, because they never were any way privy to the Prince his love: but seeing him now in such a plight, and knowing that their Master came to the house that night, and thence shifted himself away privily, they began to doubt of what was so indeed.  
The Steward (having caused the gate to be shut, with charge not to open it to any man) went to the King's Council, to whom he related the fact, conformable to his conjectures.  
The Council (not knowing by what means they might therewith acquaint the King,) were advised by the marquis of Bossa, Lord high Chamberlain, not to inform the King of any thing, ere they had seen themselves the body of the Prince, and with more certainty informed themselves of the case, wishing therefore, all, or some of them, to go to the Admiral's house, whilst he rook care that no man came near the King. His Council was embraced; The marquis retiring to the King's chamber, and the others, (as soon as their coaches came) hurrying to the Admiral's house, where causing it to be close shut up, and the chamber opened, they saw the relation prove but too too true; there being not any of them present, who by the place, persons and qualities of the dead, comprehend not the case.  
Having afterwards examined the household, they understood of the Admiral's being there that night, accompanied with Reparata, and the rest, and how that the slaves were not since seen, by whom they believed the Prince to be betrayed, and so by the help of the rest murdered, by the Admiral. They sent suddenly to the gates, where they understood that the Admiral, with eight Companons all well horsed, went out at the gate of Castlemuni. They resolved to send after him, and having to that end sent for the Count of Montereale, General of the horse, and showed him the body of the Prince, they committed to his charge what he was to do. The Count (who adored him living, and now being dead, could not satisfy himself in bemoaning him) considering that the present state of the business required somewhat else than tears, went on his way most resolute to use all possible diligence to revenge his death. The Lords of the Council in the mean time, (after they had taken such order, as was requisite, touching the bodies of the Prince, and of the guilty Traitors) returned to the Palace. But the Citizens having (I know not how) understood of the accident, and telling it one unto another, were seen to shut up all their shops in an instant, with lamentations so manifest, that the King perceiving it, asked the marquis, what was the matter, who answered him that he knew not: but the King (seeing it more and more increase) bade him go call the Prince, and learn what the matter was. Wherein, whilst the marquis took on him to obey him, there appeared in his presence the Privy Counsellors, who when the King saw come thronging so many together, he imagined that some great disaster had happened; for all of them pitifully lamented, insomuch as the Precedent (who was to be the Speaker) could not utter a word; whereat the King impatient, turning towards the marquis, and seeing him make greater moan than any of the rest; asked him angrily, if the King of Corsica were in Caleri, or if the Kingdom were lost. My Sovereign Liege, (answered then the Precedent) would to God, I could bring you that news in exchange of this other, a thousand times more woeful; for there might be hope to recover again the Realm, whereas the loss that both you and the Kingdom have now sustained, is irrecoverable. What can it then be? (replied the King) Is Perosfilo dead? At which demand all of them kneeling down, and pitifully lamenting him with grievous sobs, and mournful cries, answered that he was.  
The King hereat astonished, would have run towards the Lodgings of the Prince, thinking to see him there: When the Queen (coming out thence, accompanied with Eromena, with their heir hanging disorderly about their ears, more like Bacchanals, or mad women than themselves) met him at a door, full-but. The Queen strangely gazing on the standers by, with reiterated words, cried out, Perosfilo? Where is he? where is my Son? Come, give him me: withhold him not rome me, for I will have him.  
This encounter was to the King, even as a fire which come near a dry tow-like matter, fuming, and half consumed, puffs it up in a flame in an instant, for seeing his wife and daughter in so strange a fashion, his spirits and courage so failed him, as he sunk down to the ground. But the Queen without taking any notice of him, (running about, while here, while there) continued in calling out for her Son, till become all hoarse with crying, she held her eyes, immovably fixed where once she let fall her sight, without shedding a tear.  
Eromena (the mirror of beauty and Prudence) stood in that instant (with her fair eyes concentrated) pale, and wan. She wept not, and yet she wept, for her weeping were exclamations and sighs, she called on the beloved name of her brother, she sought for him all over his Lodgings, and hehind the Tapestry, as if she had hoped to have found him there hidden.  
The King was raised up from the ground, and laid in his bed, so would the Ladies have likewise disposed of the Queen; but she (become frantic) ran up and down the Palace, and round about the Lodgings, complaining of the heavens, and cursing men; till she brought herself to that pass as she was not able any more either to move or cry. The numerous company of Ladies, that pitifully wept about her, had not been able to re-conduct her to her Lodgings, if Eromena (fearing with her brother to lose also her mother) had not with her presence and tears, importuned and persuaded her to retire herself.  
It boots me not to tell you of the revolt of the City, when the corpses of the Prince, were (about midnight) brought to the Palace.  
The doleful Eromena, (considering how her father was, by reason of his great grief fallen sick of a Fever, and her mother grown distracted of her senses) was not therefore willing to let them know any thing, but went herself with a few others, to view the body; but then, although all her vital powers ran unto her heart; although all her force and virtues (whereof the heavens were unto her so graciously liberal) united themselves together to fortify her courage, yet could not all this save or sustain her spirits, and almost her life from failing her at that instant: she grew pale, she swooned, she fell dead, at least in all likelihood, and died she had indeed, if a spirit more feeble had given shape and being to a less generous heart: In the end (come to herself, and sitting by the corpse as she watered his breath-losse face, with a fountain of her tears) she said:  
Are these then the joys (Brother) which we expected of thee? Are these the hopes that the world had of thee, & which with all reason is expected of thy valour? Is this the flourishing age, by so short a space of life, so cruelly cut off, to bring therewithal to an end with no less cruelty the lives of those that brought thee into the world? why did not thy resplendent virtues dazzle the eyes of him that slew thee, maugre the spectacles of envy? O cruel stars! To what end served such and so great influences of beauty and exquisite feature in a body peerless for prowess, and adorned with so divine a soul, seeing a little blemish, an error (in youth so tender) so excusable hath caused and procured the corruption and ruin of all those excellent perfections, to give the whole world cause to lament the loss of them: yet are they not lost, for what ascends from above must return to whence it came, so as we have no cause to grieve for thy generous soul, but yet can we not choose (as we are mortal) but lament the dissolution of the perfectest composure that ever nature put together: neither can we without death choose but bewail thy death, depriving us of the life, which from thy sweet life we received; for in thee were indivisible all those graces, which the Graces participate not to others, but in such measure as is requisite for the delight of humane kind. We cannot choose but mourn, seeing ourselves threatened at home and abroad, being (since we are deprived of thee) without force and vigour: neither can we choose but lament, when we behold the state of our drooping kingdom, which by thee alone become once renowned and famous, returns (now that it is deprived of thee, it's light and life) to it's former cloudiness, and dim obscurity. But if every one hath cause to lament, why should I not then bewail thee with an eternal lamentation; seeing I participate of all the general causes, and have withal peculiar to myself alone, a particular cause, as being left, the only Sister, of an only brother, taken from me suddenly unawares, and without all reason? Here (overcome with extremity of grief, and being not able to forbear) she flung herself upon him, whence as her Ladies endeavoured to raise her, she (turning towards them with a fierce and severe look) said unto them; How unseasonable, unjust, and pitiless, is this pity of yours, that would defraud so worthy a Prince of these funeral rites I owe him: Which if I believed that I could better solemnize with my death, I would willingly do it? Then (taking off the sword from the corpses side, and lifting up her eyes to heaven) she proceeded. But I assure myself (my noble Brother) that I am not the sacrifice which thou requirest: Wherefore if so be that thy divine ghost doth as yet wander or hover hereabout thy fair body, & that thou seest our grief, comfort us then, (we beseech thee) whilst I also comfort thee, and assure thee that I will never rest, till I have executed just vengeance on him that unjustly slew thee. Which said (girding herself with the sword) she dried away her tears, and seeing there was no action to be hoped for of the King her father, she caused the Council to come together, and (after a brief consultation) commanded the soldiery to be mustered, resolving (at the return of the Count of Montereale) to march in her own person to Sassari: most assured that the kingdom would be on that part assaulted by King Epicamedo, without whose privity, the Admiral would never have undertaken to murder the Prince her Brother.  
The very same night she privately caused the corpse to be interred, reserving the solemnising of the funeral rites till her return, enjoying in so great heaviness, one sole comfort, which was to see the unfeigned tears of the people.  
The Count of Montereale used all possible means to o'ertake the Conspirators. Albeit he perceived that he laboured in vain, the pursued having gotten the start of him both in time and riding: which he could not recover without change of horses: and had therefore returned back, but that he hoped to block them up, either in Sassari or Porte Torre, or at least to chase them out of the kingdom.  
The day following he came to Montevero, where when the doleful news were spread abroad, the lamentation was such, as you would have judged it to be an effect of one only heart and spirit.  
Now whilst the Count could imagine no possible means to overtake the Admiral (who by that time might have reached to Sassari) he was informed how that there was left behind him in that village, a slave of his together with a woman-slave bruised and galled by riding, who (because she could not go by any other means) had caused herself to be carried in a chair to the sea coast, to take shipping, and that (if it pleased him to send after them) they might be both overtaken by the way.  
The Count, although he were weary, and his horses tired (having procured a Guide) would needs personally pursue them. Neither road he five miles, when as he (ascending a hillock) descried the she-slave in a chair, who (seeing the horsemen) grew pale, and overta'en by the Count (who well knew her in the Admiral's house) she besought him to kill her. But he (thereby better assured that she was the authoress of all the mischief) answered her; No, mischievous and accursed Traitress, thou shalt not enjoy the happiness of dying by my hand, it grieves me that there is no kind of death so cruel, as can equalise thy base offence. And enquiring afterward for the slave, he understood by the porters, that he was gone before to hire a bark; The Count therefore (leaving the woman in safe hold) spurred amain to the seaward: but the slave (espying him descending a little mountain) having already bespoken a Bark, imagined that those horses came for him; wherefore although all alone without any Mariners, who were gone to Bossa for provision, having got himself aboard the Bark, he weighed anchor, spread sails before the wind; whom, though most ignorant of that profession, fear made so cunning, as he was gotten more than two miles into the main, ere the Count could gain the sea shore; and (which was worse) there was not so much as one Bark with sails to be found at the mouth of the river Thirsis, but only small fishing boats unfurnished of all things necessary: Whereat this Count was ready to eat his fingers. But whilst he sent for a Bark to Pisanco, that of the slaves was in a short time borne away with the wind, so as although they had made after her, yet the night would have taken her out of the sight of such as pursued her.  
The woman slave was sent back again to Caleri: and onwards went the Count to Sassari, when finding it shut, and calling to the Centrees, he was answered with a shower of arrows; wherewith were killed eight of his horses, and many more hurt and wounded: Whereupon, perceiving the mischief to be greater that he took it for (in that the subjects maintained with open Rebellion, the wicked actions of their Lord) he retired himself with all the speed he could; and having sent Scours to scour the field, he received intelligence that the King of Corsica in person, was passing over into the Island, with a great army: considering therefore that his stay there could be but disadvantageous (his horses being already all spoilt) he determined to advertise thereof the King, and to retire himself to the first secure place.  
In the mean time, the Princess, who only sat alone at the Helm of this weather-beaten ship, (having left part of the Lords of the Council at Caleri, having given order for the marching onwards of the foot Companies) followed them with two thousand horse, herself being armed at all pieces, and mounted on a great Courser, having first commanded the she-slave to be sarely locked up in the bottom of a Tower; by means of whose confession came to be known all that I have told you: and because we shall come shortly to Sardegna, you shall there understand the sequel hereof, and (shall perhaps) see with your own eyes, the generous actions of the fairest and stoutest Princess the world enjoys.  
Polimero, (who with twice so much sweetness had drank of Eromena's perfections, by how much compassion he had listened to the Tragic story of so worthy a Prince) thinking himself not as yet fully satisfied in mind, desired to know how the Princess came to have the courage to practise, and use the handling of arms, an exercise not ordinary to her sex, and though she had naturally such a spirit and will, yet how came she to acquire an apt gesture and dexterity ot supply the weakness of her sex, when occasion required? Whereto the Pilot smiling, answered; Think not (Sir) that the resolution of our Princess is void of reason, or insufficient to accomplish whatsoever she takes in hand; I confess it is a thing extraordinary to her sex, but not to her: for know, that whilst she was yet a girl, and had no other brother, than the unfortunate Prince, she even then, loved him, and he her so heartily dearly, as their fraternity became converted to a friendly society, most part of their time spent they together, neither had the one any conversation in his exercise more dear than his Sisters, nor the other any company more conformable to her inclination than her Brothers: whose childish games and delights, being (such as those of all Princes should be) representations of battles of arms and horses, she came (by the shadow) to such knowledge of the things real, and substantial, that there is not a Knight can, either in managing a courser, observe better his times and motions, or break a Lance with a seemelier grace, or bandish a Sword with greater cunning or dexterity, than this our Princess.  
Continued had they on this discourse (so much was Polimero therewith delighted) had it not been broken off by the drawing near of the Bark, by them a little before descried; whereunto seeing no body therein, they drew near, and one of the Mariners boarding her, found therein a man stretched all along (by the pump) covered with many clothes, and gasping for life; they (pitying to see him in such a plight, and curious to know the occasion thereof) began to question him, but he opening his eyes a little, and then closing them again, made them no answer; they hereupon (seeing him not any way wounded) thought that perhaps he wanted sustenance, so much the rather, when having searched the Bark, they found there, neither meat, nor drink; therefore gave they him a little wine, and a while after a little more, till they saw him begin to recollect his spirits, and recover some vigour; and withal (unclosing his eyes) mutter out some faint words, so as having made him a sop (with the pith of bread sokened in Spanish wine) he willingly are it, whereby he recovered such force, as turning up his face, he discovered himself to be the Admiral's slave, of the Pilot very well known; who was therefore the gladdest man in the world: yet without making any show thereof, he commanded them to use all attendant diligence to restore him to himself, which they so performed, as in a short time he began to speak. The Pilot, seeing him restored to his disposition, caused him to be transported over into his ship, and the Bark to be towed, then after he had given him leave a good while to repose himself, he inquired of him, what he was? and by what accident he came to be so left alone? He (with his eyes inclined downwards) began to tell them a tale, without either beginning or end, and so by studying for matter, the more disclosed himself to be what he was, neither had they gotten aught else out of him, had not the Pilot (all disguise laid aside) said unto him, Art thou Andropodo, and knowest not him, prostrating himself, kneeled down before him, saying, Pardon me (my Lord) for truly I knew you not in that habit you now wear; and sithence I am fall'n into your hands, I beseech you rather to kill me, than bring me back to Sardegna; For albeit I am no ways guilty of the Prince his death, nevertheless, I assure myself that because I am the Admiral's slave, my innocence cannot save me: No more of this (answered the counterfeit Pilot) but tell us how comes it, that thou hast continued so long at sea? hast thou landed any where? Whereunto Andropodo (all quaking) made answer, that about some forty days, sithence he embarked himself, during which time he had suffered all the miseries to a body humane insufferable, that the wind ever kept him (for the most part) in the main sea, that sometimes he saw land, and had a good wind to come almost a shore, but that it changed in a moment, and that he (not having any experience in governing the sails, and withal being all alone) had escaped in many tempests the danger of drowning a thousand times; but that his ill fortune had saved him, to make him die a death more miserable; that when he came aboard, he found in the Bark a little bread, which lasted him not two days. That on the Sardegnan coast, he met with some Fishermen, and (a little farther that way) a ship of Greece, that furnished him with biscuit and a barrel of water, which he had wanted three days before. That the principal cause of his roving up and down the sea, was sleep, because the Bark abandoned of her Rother, ran whither the wind carried her, so losing (whilst he slept) the way he had gained waking; and beside, being in the midst of the sea, and not knowing on which part the land lay, he believed, that he ran always in a round, going perhaps nothing at all, or very little wide from the same place. And finally, that his spirit failing him, he was stretched along, expecting death, in manner as they found him. And being asked why he embarked not himself in the ship that sold him the victuals, he answered, that they would not take him aboard, for fear of the plague, whereof those of the East were very scrupulous, it being not lawful for them, to commerce or traffic without their patent of health, from the place whence they parted, with the precise number of the persons aboard them.  
So be it a-Gods name (answered the Pilot) they have well done in not taking thee with them, to leave thee to me, who will bring thee where thou shalt receive the reward thy treasons merit. Which said, he caused him to be bound, and set fast in the lowest part of the ship, to deprive him thereby of the means of doing himself any harm.  
Polimero then (turning towards the Pilot, and smiling) said; Sir, you have hitherto represented the personage of one, whom you are not: I pray you vouchsafe to favour me so much as fully to unmask yourself; seeing this Villain hath almost wholly discovered you.  
The Knight (who till then had caused himself to be called Pilot) answered, I will obey you Sir, knowing you for such as may command me; for be pleased I pray you to know, that if you believe yourself masked as well as I, you entertain then an opinion that deceives you, you having not so soon set your foot a shipboard, but that I knew you for what you are.  
My name is Eterossilo, and am marquis of Chia, a place on the sea coast on this part of Sardegna, bordering towards Afsrique: I was the Prince his servant, to whose memory I am so much indebted, as that I shall never more content myself in that I can no longer serve him. And as soon as (by the means of the conductors back of the she-slave) the flight of this Villain was known; I resolved to go to sea, (my heart telling me that I should find him out) having very well known him in the house of the Admiral, his master. I rome of purpose up and down this sea, almost a month, without being any thing the nearer of finding what I sought for, until (assailed by a great tempest) I was constrained to save myself in the haven of Birsa Where to avoid the being questioned of the affairs of Sardegna (whereof I was doubtful, whether I might without danger relate any thing in neighbouring countries) I charged every one to call me by the counterfeit name of Pilot. And when I saw your servant enquiring out for passage in some ship, for two persons, and two horses; I know not what spirit prompt me (knowing him to be your servant) that he sought them for you, (putting then his hat off in reverend manner, he proceeded) which are the Infant Polimero, worthy son of the puissant King of Mauritania; wherein I thought myself exceeding fortunate, judging that in our tribulations, the gods had touched the heart of a youthful Prince, (so like both in the virtues of the mind, and beautiful proportions of body to our deceased Prince) to come to the defence of Sardegna; so as it was no difficult matter for us to accord for the passage. And now (my Lord) behold us both unmasked. Here, as he would have kneeled down before Polimero, he taking him by the hand, besought him not to discover him; telling him how he would (as unknown) make one in those wars; moved so to do, for the interest common to all Princes against Traitors, for the revenge due to the virtues of Prince Perossilo, and for the valour sake of a Princess so renowned, as Eromena. And this was indeed the occasion of breaking off his intended voyage into Ireland.  
Within two days then after, they landed safely in Chia, to the great pleasure and content of both parties.  
The end of the First Book of BIONDI'S EROMENA.   

CAVALIER GIO: FRANCISCO BIONDI HIS EROMENA  
The Second Book.  
PRINCE Metaneone furrowed the surging waves, variously affected with content and grief; both tormented with the remembrance of his offence, and comforted with the hope of finding out his Brother, to amend and recompense past defects, with contrary effects. The Count of Bona, exceeding consolated in seeing him so altered, and indeed partially obliged to rejoice at the love of the Brothers, (as one who next the King his Father, claimed greatest interest in Polimero, for having bred him up from his infancy) confirmed him in his good intentions, being (as he already assured himself) not counterfeit, in that he made choice of him for a companion in his voyage, to be a testimony of his actions.  
The weather was clear, whereat all the world seemed to joy, except the Galley-slaves, who, for being becalmed, were forced to ply their oars.  
The Galley scoured away amain course, seeming for her riches and curiosity of workmanship, to be some rare enchanted piece of excellency. She had her poop curiously carved with divers Histories of finest graven work, gilded all over with gold; her pavement of jewels, and richest mother of pearl; her hulk painted over with sparkling vermilion; her oars of the same, but done pompously from the midst downwards with golden flames; her beak, rails, and window-linternes proportioned to the devise of her poop; her mast and loopholes gracefully adorned with banners, and flags of cloth of gold: on her foresail flag-staff hung of the same stuff a goodly streamer, of such length, as it reach't down to touch the very waves; her three lanterns of marvellous invention, glittering with gold, afforded the greater lustre, because of the crystal, cut diamond-wise; and artificially in-laid in their footstals, cubes and columns: so as she seemed to such, as saw her a far off, (both in shape and colours,) a fiery Dragon with scales and wings of gold.  
Two days sailed the Prince, without seeing any kind of vessel sail before him, on the third he descried a galley, which espying that of the Prince, strove to gain the shore. But doubting to be overtaken, she made off towards the West, thinking to escape by the benefit of the night: The Prince taking her for some Pirate's ship (as she was indeed) commanded the Galley-slaves of his Royal, to row amain, and they (encouraged with hope of booty) made her scour little less than her full length between one stroke and the other.  
Twenty miles off, were the Pirates descried by the little topsail of their top-gallant; and the Prince making forward with extraordinary swiftness, (maugre all her force of oars) overtook her; whose Commanders seeing no means to escape, resolved to defend themselves, fearing to lose the great riches they had stolen before, and purposing to make head by tacking about, they could not do it so soon, but that the Prince his Galley, running her full course, bore upon theirs at her poop; whence passing over her prow, she plunged her up to the mast in the sea; but the vessel being good, got up a float again, receiving thereby no other harm, than the spoiling of some battlements, with the death and bruising of such as were so unfortunate, as to be on that side of her: In the same encounter, were many of the Prince his oars broken, a loss not recompensed with the gain of the Galley, which with no great pains, and less bloodshed, fell into his hands. Then would he know what they were, and whence they came, whereto one of them answering for all, said, That they were of calo of Mauritania, and that going with a Galley of theirs, to get some booty, towards the coast of Catalogna, they were by an East winde driven to land on the strand of Dragonera, a little Island of Maiorica; where having understood how that from Porto Colombo to the West part of the Island, was to set out a Galley, sent from the King to his daughter; they made the best speed they could to rig and dress up theirs, which with beating on the shore was almost all over cracked, and bruised: and that, having set themselves in ambush behind the cliff of Cabrera, they had assailed her unawares, and (not far off the haven) taken her, with the death of many, for that being constrained to leave behind them their own Galley (which was unfit for any service) they had no room on this other alone to set aboard both all their company and the slaves too; And that yet for all they had killed none, but the more unserviceable, sparing the Knights, Ladies, family and servants of the Princess; with an intention to go thence to the rock, where she was herself (to them very well known,) and thence to take her prisoner, whom they meant not to set free ere they had received for her an exceeding great ransom.  
fain would the Prince see those prizes, and passing over therefore into their Galley, he found there certain women, and among those the Countess of Palomero, (the Princess her Governess) with four Ladies of honour, and among the men six Knights.  
The women rather dead than alive, as soon as they saw the Prince, kneeled down before him, who courteously entertaining them, accompanied them in grieving for their misfortunes, yet joying in that he was the means of their deliverance, he prayed them to acquaint him with their voyage, and the occasion thereof  
The Countess (somewhat comforting herself, and assured by the Royal presence of the Prince, whom by many circumstances she thus judged to be such) said, My Lord, we, and those Knights are all Vassals and servants of the King of Maiorica, who having but one only daughter (which is one of the fairest of the world) and she retired into Asrique; sent us thither with all provision necessary to sojourn with her in that Country; but scarce had we issued out of the Port, when we were taken by these Pirates. The Prince (causing her (though unwilling) to fit her down with all the other Ladies) curious to understand the manner of the case, besought her to relate it him minutely and particularly, saying, that (being now freed) it would serve them to shorten and drive away the time. At which word they would all of them have kissed his hands, which he not permitting, but proffering them all further courtesies possible, the Countess (respectively thanking him with the terms of Noble gratitude) thus began.  
Two years are now expired, sithence the King of Sardegna, treated of a Marriage between the Prince his Son, and the Princess Eromilia our Mistress; which was concluded on, to the great content of both parties, for the commodities of commerce, and neighbourhood, but much more for the rare qualities of the bride-couple, being such, as (I believe) whosoever had searched over all the world, could not have found out such another pair; for Perosfilo Prince of Sardegna (besides the valour of his person) was by nature endowed with parts so excellent for beauty, feature, comeliness and grace, as hardly meet all in one man alone. And for Eromilia our Princess, I'll not only say that who so hath seen her, believes her to be for beauty matchless; but I will also, without error, affirm her to be such, as needs not (in that regard) the favourable judgement of any.  
The marriage then concluded, with hope of a speedy performance, she was by her hopeful Bridegroom visited by letters and presents, whereunto she reciprocally corresponded, building a most ardent affection on the presumption of being his wife, and upon two of his pictures, the one limmed and painted, the other made of stuck, (this later, fully and proportionably representing his natural lineaments:) It fell out afterwards, whilst the marriage for more than two years was (upon some unknown occasion) deferred, that the infortunate Prince was by the marquis of Sassari (Admiral of Serdegna) in the night time found a bed with his wife, and by him therefore slain, which news spread abroad in Maiorica, manifested the cause of so long putting off the marriage; which nevertheless was not sufficient to take away from our Princess all occasion of grief, as it had done to any other: whereas she no sooner heard it, than she sunk down to the ground senselesle, and breathless, so as there was much ado to restore her to her spirits, that had suddenly forsaken her. Impossible it is to express the extremity of her lamentation, suffice it, that two days after she went her ways, whither no body knew, except one very aged and trusty Priest of hers, who also (until he was a good way of the Island) never knew any thing of her resolution, (which was) to retire herself from the world, and never more to think of father and mother, realm, subjects, or aught else save only on her dead husband, whom because she could not own living, she resolved to enjoy now dead and gone, spending a coin quite contrary to his, both in stamp and metal: for whereas he had obscured the purity of his customs, by falsifying his faith (for love of another woman) before he had married her; she on the contrary, (though now a freewoman, and he dead and buried) would reserve herself constantly his spouse, resolved never to change her resolution for any man's sake in the world.  
The good old man could not with any arguments persuade her to return; he showed how she (abiding in Maiorica) might accomplish her intention, telling her how that to go wander about to seek places of abode in strange countries, was neither commendable nor secure for a woman of ordinary condition, much less for a Princess, ordained, both by birth and desert, to a royal dignity; moreover that in so doing she could not please the gods; to whom she pretended to devote herself, within the limitation of whose service were not comprehended the disobedience and cruelty to parents-ward, who, without doubt, would for this occasion die with grief; that her reason of neglecting her parents for divine love, was not in this case approvable, but that she should and ought to understand it rightly, in a wholesome construction, which was not to neglect their service for any affect of blood, which ought not to be held in equal esteem with them, who admit of no comparatives, much less of superlatives in their love; and that under such a pretence to abandon our parents, (especially grown aged, desolate, and charged with a family) was rather to displease, than to serve the gods, who by the law they gave us by nature, require at our hands, reverence and obedience towards our parents, being strong, and vigorous, and pity, comfort and sustenance, being become weak and impotent; and that then the eldest child aught, together with the family, sustain and undergo the charge and burden of parents; and if this were the true meaning and manner of discharging on's duty, even in private families, how much rather should it be observed in hers, that was Royal, wherein she being an only child, had forsaken her parents (grown now aged) and with them also the whole kingdom being her family, which being by her means made an Orphan, lay subject to the tyranny of whosoever would oppress it? Besides, that this resolution of hers sprang not from any true affection she had of serving the gods, but from a despair and discontent, for seeing herself deprived of such a husband, whose company she hoped would have endowed her with a blessed life; which effect she despairing to find in any other, had suffered herself to be beguiled by her evil Genius, who persuaded her under the colour of pity, to become cruel against father, subjects, and her own self.  
But to all these arguments, the good old man found her ears deaf: for she accompanied with one only Damsel, and two of her ancient servants (by whose means she had found out that vessel, and put therein many things of her dearly esteemed, but espepecially the statue of the deceased Prince) passed over into Africa; where landing at Velez, she bought of the Lord of that place, a Rock, which she then caused to be named Pegno della morte (or the pledge of death:) whereupon she caused immediately a Chapel to be built, with an intention to erect afterwards a Temple, by this time begun, where she intended to finish her days. By the Priest's persuasion, she wrote to the King her father, to rid him from the anxiety and vexation of mind; wherewith he was troubled because of her departure.  
Her father (somewhat consolated in seeing the evil was not so great as he believed it to be, and hoping that time would alter her mind▪) being informed of the situation of the place, and of the neighbouring inhabitants, would needs send her (although he knew it to be against her will) all her household, to the end he might therewith also furnish her with company sufficient to defend her, from such as might go about to take her into their power; and with these sent he also some Masons, who under pretext of building the Temple, might fortify and assure the place with strong wall-workes, which reared up on the accessible parts of the rock, might be defended of a few persons: Howbeit before he sent us, he would know of every one of us, whether we were willing to go or no; but there was not any one who was not willing to dwell in the fire, much less on a rock, in the service of so gracious and amiable a Mistress. Whereupon, the King having caused this galley to be rigged up, and put in a readiness, and set aboard therein all kind of householdstuff hangings, and furnitures necessary for a new house, besides a good sum of money; we departed, when on a sudden (ere we could put ourselves in defence) we were taken by these Pirates.  
The Prince (astonished at a resolution so strange in such a Princess, and enamoured of her extolled beauty, whereof he had also formerly heard talk of) bethought himself that he might conveniently now go see her, the way to go where she was abiding, being the selfsame course he was to hold. Wherefore (after he had thanked the Countess for the relation she imparted him) he told them all that (so it were not discommodious unto them,) they might without any fear abide still in that Galley, because of the great number of men aboard his, and wished them to see they had again all their things (as well those of every particular person, as also those of their Princess) restored them, whereof whatsoever was wanting, he would see by all means found out; promising them further, that their way being the same with his, he would not leave them, until he had landed them safely in the place where resided the Princess, whose hands he (conformable to the duty of a knight) was desirous to kiss, whereat they all kneeled before him on the ground, and to the Prince raising them up, the Countess, after she had rendered him convenient thanks, thus spoke on.  
My Lord, in telling you the History of my Mistress, I forgot one essential point thereof, which is, that after her resolution of going her ways, and leading that kind of life she now lives, she made a third resolution, more strange than all the rest, which was, To remain a whole year unseen of any mankind in the world, except such as were admitted to serve her: so that the King himself (her father) (desirous to come in person to bring her back again) choosed rather (as the lesser evil) not to come, condemning that small time to the grief of his daughter, who having experimented the bitterness thereof, and vented the extremity of her heaviness, would (as he hoped) become more supple and pliant to wholesome persuasions. And of this (My Lord) I thought good to inform you, to the end that to you being so courteous, it might not seem a discourtesy meant towards you, when you encounter an effect contrary to your desert. The Prince somewhat amazed hereat, courteously took his leave of them, sending the Pirates, being his subjects to the Countess, to be by her chastised, as she thought good, who being importuned and pressed to accept them, and foreseeing the use and employment her Princess might have of slaves, caused them to be put to the chains, abhorring to chastise them with any other punishment, though they well deserved it.  
In the three days following, the Prince encountered with many vessels, of whom he could hear no news of her he sought after. But now drawing near to the Pegno della morte (which after a long progress of time, I know not if by corruption of language or otherwise, it came to be called the Pagnone) he overtook a ship of Sardegna, which in that she came not from Birsa made him somewhat pensive: whereupon the master of the ship said, (My Lord) if you desire to hear any news of the Sardegnan ship, that came from Birsa, I have here one can satisfy you, for I met her in her return, and she belonged to the marquis of Chia, of whom I obtained the favour of getting this young man (my brother) from aboard her; who will relate unto you, what he knows, to satisfy you in what you shall please to require of him. The Prince and Count both (having questioned him particularly touching the passengers aboard that ship) comprehended by the qualities of the horse, and of the squire; but more probably by the features of the youth & respect borne him by the marquis, that without doubt, that same was Polimero, whereof they causing him to relate the same again, were yet more than fully assured that it could be no other than he. Metaneone therefore the gladdest man now that ever he was all his life time, resolved (as soon as he had accompanied those people to their journey's end, and seen the Princess) to steer thence to Sardegna.  
Arrived at the Pegno, he would not come a shore for fear of displeasing the Princess; but calling one of her Knights, whom in that small time his good liking reputed confident, he said unto him;  
My Lord Perseno, one thing that I desire most in this world, is to serve your Lady the Princess, it grieves me that I may not be permitted personally to offer her my service to such an honest and hovourable end, as befits a Knight of my quality; seeing that her vow forbids me it: It would grieve me extremely to part without seeing her, I'll therefore entreat you to further me to the accomplishment of my desire. And seeing she is resolved to see no man, I will not bind you to an impossibility, but only to bring me to see her without letting her know it; wherein I promise you not to stray from your directions.  
Perseno (that held himself obliged to the Prince, and well conceived the honesty of his intentions,) made him this answer.  
My Lord, so much I hold myself obliged unto you, for the favour you show me in commending me, that if I owed you not that great obligation, (as do all the rest in general, and withal the Princess herself, my Mistress) yet were this a sufficient tie to oblige me eternally; howbeit, I beseech you, give me leave to tell you, that I cannot as yet absolutely promise you any thing in this purpose, having not as yet seen the Princess, nor knowing how she lives, neither am I acquainted with the place whereby I might make use of such occasions as would be requisite in such a business: but if you please to give me time to see her, and to discover and observe her manner of life, I promise you then, that I will endeavour to obey you, to the utmost of my power, assuring myself, that you will not command me any thing wherein I may not serve you without blemishing my honour.  
The Prince well satisfied with the reasons of Perseno, told him that he would willingly attend, and withal would not stray from his directions. Afterwards, having sent for the Countess, he told her he was glad that she was safely arrived to her Lady and Princess, to whom though he could not be permitted to come to kiss her hands (as his duty bound him) he hoped nevertheless to be favoured with some command of hers, ere his departure, which would be about three days thence, during which time he had need to repose his Galley-slaves, that he might then after hold on a strait course to Sardegna, where he hoped to find out his Brother.  
The Lady (who was of right noble behaviour) answered him; that she found herself confused in the confused being and state of her Mistress, for that she well knew, that to suffer him to depart thence, without being for his noble favours, courteously thanked by her herself, was no otherwise than to satisfy a great obligation with the coin of a greater ingratitude, and therefore besought him to be pleased to excuse with the perfection of his courtesy, the imperfection of the times, and to assure himself that she (for her part) would not fail to manifest to the Princess, to the King her father, and to all the world, how deeply, and for how great a good turn she remained engaged to his Highness. Whereunto the Prince replied, that he deemed himself most happy, in being so fortunate, as to happen to do so slender a service for so worthy a Princess, for which he pretended no other guerdon, than the favour of her commands, that he might more effectually serve her, and so took his leave, abiding below without offering either to go up himself, or permit any other to ascend the Rock.  
The Princess (in the mean time) according to the custom of melancholy folks (who either stand stone-still, or else are never quiet nor content with any place) roaming up and down, (now here, now there) about the upper part of the rock, vouchsafed not once to move herself at the news, which was brought her of the splendour descried afar off, although it made towards, and drew near that place; till seeing the Galley appear from under the cliff, and marveling at a piece so rich and gallant, she could not choose (for all her grief) but behold it, yet fretting with herself for giving her senses way, to taste of the least content, (contrary to her resolution made, of never taking delight in any thing) she returned to her lodgings, become (in respect of its garnishment, situation, and solitariness) ghastly and hideous to behold; she could not believe that they were company sent her from her father, for well knew she that his Arsenal afforded no such Galleys. And whilst she, curious to know whose it was, was angry with herself for being curious; desirous to rest naked of any other affect, than of grief alone, Gierofando the Priest came unto her, with news, that the Countess of Palomera was at the foot of the rock (with all those of her household, sent her from her father) accompanied with a great Prince.  
Eromilia (doubtful in her mind, what she should do, and wrought on by the tenderness of her affections, being not altogether indulgent, nor yet altogether repugnant to her natural inclinations) knew not whether she should rather joy for the coming of the Countess, (her Governess) or fret herself, that any Prince would (contrary to her deliberation) proffer to come to that place. Nevertheless, the stock of her natural prudence remaining yet livily, after being awhlle amazed to see her household come unsent for, imagining the cause thereof, which displeased her not, in that she began already to conceive the danger she incurred in, by living so alone, she made no other answer, than that the Countess was welcome, and that she only should be admitted to come to her. But that for strangers, he well knew himself, that she could not be seen of her own father, and therefore referred to him the satisfying of that Prince in that behalf.  
Whilst then with crooked and tortuous interrogations Gierofando endeavoured to tell her what she required not; thither came the Countess, whom the Priest went to meet, conducting her in, all-alone. The tears (here shed) were in such abundance, as there was not for a good while any room left for speech: but as soon as any was, the witty Lady (knowing that the time served but to things general) presented her with the letters of the King and Queen, giving her withal succinct news of the houses, of such things as were sent her by her father, and of the love of the family. The Princess (mollified in affection) would needs see them all, who came one by one to kiss her hands, waxen so moist with the tears of every one of them, as she could not restrain hers.  
The Countess then afterwards related unto her, how they had been taken by Pirates, and freed by the Prince of Mauritania, extolling the humanity of his behaviour, his Royal manners, and the features of his person; acquainting her further of the desire he had to kiss her hand, or at least, to receive from her some command, ere his departure thence.  
The Princess answered, she was sorry she could nor might not see him, to acknowledge the obligation she owed him. But hoped, that (he being a courteous Knight) would accept of her excuses, in stead of more essential reasons. With which embassage, to satisfy him in that behalf; she willed there should be sent him some Knight (in her name) such as should to the Countess seem fittest.  
The Countess having observed in their voyage, the affectionate inclination the Prince had showed towards Perseno, caused him to be called in, to whom the Princess said.  
Perseno, the Countess hath told me what great favour, both I and all you have received at the hands of the Prince of Mauritania, and how by his means have been saved, both your lives and liberties. If I were now, as heretofore I have been, I would endeavour with my own mouth to assure him, how highly I esteem his favours; but I being now no more myself, am (among other defects) disenabled herein (which at this present inwardly grieves me) my present estate being more capable of receiving, than in doing courtesies; and seeing (because of my vow) I may not see any man, I cannot therefore content myself, in partly satisfying so great a service.  
Then (wiping off her tears which the imagination of her melancholy made her power out in abundance) she further said.  
I can tell you no more, you know my mind, and therewithal the condition of my hard fortune, you shall therefore with your speech, supply the defect of mine. And because the place is not furnished with any thing worth the presenting him, nor myself stored with any thing to honour him withal, you shall endeavour to assure him of the grief I conceive thereof Afterwards, when she had opened her father's letter, she found it thus said.  
Only and beloved daughter, by your absence have I obscurely guessed, and by your letters clearly understood of the strange resolution by you undertaken, so that if I knew you not well, or believed not that I knew you more than passing well, I know not what I could think of you; for first, for the loss of one thing in hazard or uncertain, and which might well not be (that is, your husband) you have despised many things certain, and which could not choose but be; and such am I, your mother, our subjects and kingdom. And albeit the gods have endued you with a spirit transcending the ordinary, nevertheless I believe for a certain, that if a man would at this present demand your reason, why you have so done, you would answer him with I cannot tell, and therefore the first essence that was in you is necessarily corrupted, seeing the actions thereon depending are corrupted: for although it were granted, that the Prince of Sardegna had been already your husband, and that the possession of his person had redoubled your love, yet what reason should move you to grieve for him in such a fashion, as that because you cannot enjoy him, you will not enjoy the world? Nay, though even this were also granted you, yet who will grant you, that you may live, and not live to the world? If then you ought to make use of the world, then ought you doubtless to exchange a Cliff for the Island Baleari, which ought to be so much the worthier of your ashes, by how much the nearer they are to the tombs of those you love so well: And though your judgement were so unequal, as to judge, that you ought for the place where you are, leave the place where you should be, and that you may live, and yet not live to the world: yet tell me (I pray you) what reason, what law, or what god have ever heard grant or allow such injustice, offence, or cruelty, as you, an only daughter, use towards me your father, that never gave you any occasion therefore? Which if you had no reason to have done, although I had used you ill, what cause or colour have you then for it, knowing that I esteemed you not only as a daughter, but as mine own heart, you being withal even in my life's time (excepting the title) Sovereign Queen of my people? In that you loved him, that was to be your husband, it is a sign of a good and laudable nature, I blame you not therefore; but to have so loved him, as because you cannot love him any longer, you will not love either me, or any other, you shall find this to be an obstinate contradiction of nature: You say, you are retired, because you would not be interrupted in your grief; Truly if nature were as constant as she's variable in our affections, than had you wisely deliberated, and I would have therefore commended you; for if a man could shun all griefs for the price of one grief alone, though the same were most violent, doubtless he ought to purchase it at any rate, because it is impossible that it can of its nature last long: and passions pass away even as pleasures do, though not so soon, which though they did not, yet pains, abstractions, and businesses, but (above all things) time (extenuating it by little and little) would at length reduce it to nothing. Whence it proceeds, that who so believeth to prefix and give him●selfe a law for his life, founded upon a running grief, imagining it to be everlasting (as you have done) such an one doth not only deceive himself; but also (as soon as his understanding is cleared from the cloud of passion) he first reputes himself thereof, and then looks in the face of his own ignorance, which instructs him how humane nature is changeable in all things, and yet rather in love, than in hatred. But let us suppose it be not so, and let's grant, that you may be in time possessed, if not of a greater grief, at least of a more worthy resolution, occasioned by some danger of your honour, of my death, of the loss of your subjects, and of many other accidents which cannot be imagined: Tell me, which of them would you judge more worthy the entertaining, the first, or the last? That which toucheth you very near, or that which nothing at all concerns you? That, whereto you (applying the remedy) may bring to nothing, or that, which (being irremediable) can receive no other being than that of your imagination? But yet, this is not all, it is a thing ordinary for one evil to produce many others. Your unreasonable grief may beget desperation, and desperation the loathing of all things; hence sprung your disobedience, your stealing away, your new course of life, and finally your vow of depriving yourself of yourself, and of seeing you, every man (my self not excepted.) If this be the ladder to climb up to heaven, and the way to please the gods, as you pretend, than would I think that humane actions were to them indifferent, and that their favour might be acquaired as well by working iniquity, as by doing good and virtuous deeds. Perceive you not, alas, what opinions your actions manifest you to hold; (which is) to form by degrees this monstrous, horrid and blasphemous consequence? If you had a desire to serve the gods, how then to marry? Or will you, that I bear something with your love (truly lawful, and in its limits virtuous?) well, I am so content; but what hinders you to serve the gods, abiding at home in your own house? Are Maiorica and Minorica not to your liking, for being more spacious and fairer than your Pegno della morte? And why so I pray you? Have the gods (perhaps) such eyes as we? Or respect they more the outward appearance than the inward reality? Think you that they esteem more an erected Temple, than a contrire heart? No surely, we may as well serve the gods in our delicious and sumptuous palaces, as offend them in Caves and De●●rts: yet can you not say that you want such, because you have the Cabrera and Dragonera, whither you might have retired yourself with greater reason; with greater (I say) in that where you now are, you are deprived of all safety: possessing in your person and quality, and carrying with you so many silent invitations, as might tempt all such to endeavour to have you in their power, as shall come to know, how that you being beautiful, a Princess, and heiress to the Crown, are retired alone without any guard, to a Rock not defended otherwise than by winds, the Sunbeams, and the injury of the weather: yet your misfortune would be far less (though nevertheless exceeding great) if you happened to fall into the hands of a Prince; but if fortune should make you a prey of thiefs and Pirates, What would then become of you? For such would sell you and make you of a free woman a slave, and of a Mistress a servant; all which is (you will say) nothing to a mind resolutely indifferent. But can you find in your heart to rank among those indifferent things your honour and virginity? Consider how you are environed with most potent Kings, if any one of them had a desire to take you away, I see not how you could defend yourself from them; which if they enterprised only to deprive you of your widowhood, it would prove 〈◊〉 great ill hap: But how are you assured that they will not ●ake you first away, and then (under the pretence of having you) impudently deprive me both of Realm and life? There are now wars in Sardegna, which by all reason expects aid from us: If Ep●camedo King of Corsica become Lord thereof, (as I doubt he will, he (being a lover of beauty) hath courage enough to claim interest in yours, seeing he is already wroth at the Princess Eromena, and is a man like enough to aspire (with the incorporation of Sardegna) to the dominion of all the other Lands, and of ours also together with your person. And if you be not here, what resolution can I make; fearing always, that I shall need reserve for your rescue such soldiers as I should send to succour Sardegna? No other persuasions (daughter) will I use towards you: only I pray you so to strip yourself of your passion, as being freed therefrom, you may partly judge of things as other times you have done. I will not thereto compel you (although I might;) but will in some things dispense with your grief, which I pray you endeavour the best you can to shorten. In the mean time (for the shunning of the imminent dangers of your person) I herewithal send you men, and money, to the end that you might, to save yourself from death, block yourself up in your Pledge of death. I send you all your household, because all of them would needs come serve you, notwithstanding all recompense that I (without service) offered to each of them in particular. But above all (I pray you) honour the Countess of Palomera, and esteem her as a mother.  
Much was the Princess astonished at the reasons of this letter, especially when she more lively considered the danger, wherein she stood, wherefore she resolved, as soon as her husband's funeral rites were solemnised, to wall about the rock on the parts of its ascent, being every where else so fortified by nature, as it needed not to be doubted of. Perseno in the interim joyful for the commandment he had received, went to present the Prince with his embassage, who (after corresponding of affectionate discourses) thus said unto him. And must I then (my kind friend) depart hence without seeing your Lady the Princess? I much doubt it (answered Perseno) unless you would vouchsafe to abase yourself to do one thing I have thought of; without the which it is impossible that any man in the world come to the sight of her: And (being demanded what that was) he proceeded, saying,  
Two things my Mistress intends to do; the one is the Dedication of her Chapel, for the celebrating of sacrifice; the other, the solemnisation of Prince Pirosfilo's funeral, when (among other ceremonies) she will, that all, aswell her Knights as Squires, be clothed (conformable to the custom of our Country in the like occasions) in a mourning garment with a Cappuccio or hood which covers the face, saving the eyes; for whose use there is an opening in that part reserved. What I have thought of, is, to give you mine, and to take for myself one of one of my servants; If this device please you, the matter is then accomplished, for to conduct you in, is a thing I can easily perform.  
The Prince (embracing him) with great joy told him, that he could not have thought on a better means, desiring to have it by all means effected. The order they therefore took was, that the Prince should launch out thence, to some place not far off, and that within six days then after (which was the term prefixed) leaving his Galley behind him, he should come in a Frigate about midnight, there (showing him the place with his finger) where he with a little Bark would be ready to receive him. Which concluded on, Perseno returning to the Princess, reported unto her such speeches, which even of blind folks could not be taken for other than conceits of courtesy, & by a good eye might easily be discerned to imply conceits of love, neither displeased they her; for that truly gentle hearts are ever ambitious of other men's good opinions. But the Countess pleased they exceedingly, who earnestly desired that some new affection of some effectual love in her Lady and Princess, might rid the old of its desperate humour: for the better grounding whereof she neglected not the opportunity of extolling the Prince, with such commendations, as had been sufficient to have enamoured any heart not obstinately resolved not to love at all.  
Now the time for reposing the Galley-slaves being expired, the Prince caused the March or Levata to be sounded, continued with the consort of all his trumpets, with such exquisite melody, that the hollow concavity of the rock thereat resounding, the echoes were heard make answer from every part thereof. Whereupon every one ran out to see the Galley, except the Princess, who was jealous lest her grief should grow to be displeased with her, for adventuring herself to the gust of a curious sight; yet would she have the Countess go thither with the rest, to whom (refusing to go, and leave her all alone) she said,  
Mother, the time that was is now no more, solitariness is now my pastime: And albeit you are (as you know yourself to be) right dear unto me; nevertheless seeing I hate my own company, the being deprived of another's cannot grieve me: Recreate yourself then, and take no care of me, and so shall you best please me, for in doing otherwise you will displease me. Whereat the Countess exceedingly sorry, without any more words went out.  
Then stood the Galley beaten upon by the beams of the Sun in her glittering parts, so as she seemed with her splendours to war against Phoebus, and to dart to himwards, as many radiant glimpse, as she received of him. Being afterwards disanchored, whilst the ghinge stood ready with oars in hand at the whistle of the Boatswain, she saluted (according to the custom) the place thrice with cries and trumpets; the windows above them appeared full of Ladies and Knights, that standing bare saluted the Prince, who requiting them with the like, and causing the ghing ply the water with their oars in ten strokes vanished out of the Port: whence passing the Promontory towards the East, landing at Budema twenty miles off, he smiling said to the Count, What think you? Have we not made a long day's journey? And upon this acquainting him of what he meant to do, he there entertained himself until the day appointed, which seemed to him a tedious years' time▪ but than having armed and manned a Frigate with men and oars, he went aboard her, taking a special care when he came near the rock, to glide on so silently that the noise of rowing might not discover him: arrived to the place appointed, he had no cause to attend, for there found he the diligent Perseno with a little Whirry, wherein both of them passed over to the Rock, having first taken order, that the Frigate should return the night following to the selfsame place to fetch him back again. Thence gotten up on high with no small pains to the Prince, being unacquainted with that steepy ascent, the night being also dark and not otherwise illuminated than by starlight; he slept that night with Perseno, because he could not be better accommodated, yet was so merry in that he hoped to obtain his desire, that he never thought of any toil or discommodity.  
The day come, the Princess, who slept little or nothing, rose up early in the morning, and after the Chapel was dedicated (which was without any ceremony, and where the Prince could not be admitted to come) every oneretired himself to his own lodgings, till such time as the funeral Beer was put in order.  
Then appeared the Princess in the Hall, where the ceremony was to begin, clad in a black gown strait wasted with large sleeves, and so long, as they reached down to the ground, it was lined quite through with whitesilke cypress, pleated and crisped about the neck, with a deep fringe round about it: the body of her garment, and the sleeves of her wascot, were cut from the highest to the lowest part thereof, and rejoind with small black loope-lace, between which cuts the same cypress came puckering out in equal small pleats; attracting the eyes of the beholders with the comeliness of her person, the strangeness of the habit, and the proportion of contrary colours; her head, neck, and breast were covered with a kind of robe of exceeding fine linen, folded in waves, which reached no further down than the knee: her sweet face restrained in its own confines, had allowed it for observers and keepers (as it was not fit it should be left all alone) some few of her fair hair, which the more they were confused in the Chaos of so comely a melancholy, the more orderly were they disposed to proportionate the fairest of all other beauties: yet were they no golden hairs, because nature foreseeing or peradventure emulating those accidental colours of her habit; & being desirous to sure naturally the same devise, had framed her countenance as white as the driven snow, and her hair like the glittering brown of finest silk; this robe of hers, together with her face were covered all over with a transparent veil; which although it was black, yet did it not moderate, but rather augment those singular beauties: that being neither altogether apparent, nor yet altogether hidden, could not either be concealed in their being shadowed, or conceived in their full perfections; for their rays, penetrating through the pores of the heart, made themselves known, and yet dazzling the eyes of the capacity deprived it of the means of well-knowing and fully discerning them. This her habit was embellished with the pearls that dropped in chains from her crystal eyes, which (united together in a milk-white piece of fine linen under the black veil) were motives sufficient to change even mirth and laughter itself into plaint and grief.  
The family came to the Hall a little before, to wait on their Mistress, and among them Metaneone and Perseno in the very instant of her coming forth of her chamber (as private as they could to shun the occasion of discourse with any one.) The Prince seeing appear such a tree clothed with a shadow, purpurized under the obscurity of veils, between two contrary colours (no otherwise than Aurora when she begins (at the approach of the Sunbeams) to show forth her ornamental graces, having besprinkled the eyes attracted with unknowen violence, in stead of dew with a treasure of tears, signs (not obscure, of an amorous heart) became thereat so astonished, as that if he had been so forgetful of the quality of the place, as he was of his own condition, he had no doubt in that place quite forgotten himself. But Perseno (that with a vigilant eye beheld him) seeing him begin to stagger, set him right again by bringing him to himself with a beck; Just as a generous Courser (forgetting his exercise) is suddenly brought in again by the voice and hand.  
In the midst of the Hall stood a Beer, representing the body of the dead Prince raised up from the ground, with a large Beere-covering of black velvet, fringed round about with divers Trophies of arms and instruments of war, with the Escocheons of Sardegna and Maiorica quartered, and richly embroidered with gold at each of its four corners. The superficies of the Beere-cloath was sprinkled all over with drops of blood, represented to the life by a curious hollow-stich of vermilion silk. The Hall hanged all over with black Arras, not only the walls, but also the ceiling and pavement thereof. So as amongst all these obscure colours, there was not any white discernible, but only that which (shaming all blacks) was not only transparent, but resplendent from under the veils of the Princess.  
At one end of this Hall right over against the Beer stood placed a Canopy of State, with a little bench, and two great cushions, all covered over with black velvet: here stood still the Princess, and kneeled down; where after she had a while fixed her watery eyes to heavenwards, than (as if she hated the light) bent them downwards to celebrate the funeral, weeping out amain such music, as with its mournful and compassionate tone, drew humid lamentations from the driest eyes.  
Metaneone uncertain with himself, whether he was in a dream, or awake, ne'er took his eyes off the Princess, and (forming in his mind a rhapsody of the things he saw) was not aware that he saw them, so great was the confusion he tossed too and fro, in his mind.  
The music ended, there were distributed torches, which (though of pure white wax) were yet all artificially made obscurely brown. Then the Priest, having first invocated the God of gods with the attributes of only incomprehensible, and eternal, thus prayed:  
Receive (O Lord) our prayers, and accept our tears, which because they are not worthy of thy sight, vouchsafe to make them worthy, for thy mercy's sake; seeing we, because of our corruption, cannot make them worthy, but acknowledge thee to be both the work, and the workman, the beginning and end of all things, and that in thee is perfect happiness, which we hope to enjoy in thee, by thee, and with thee, for ever and ever.  
Which said, taking out of a golden Chalice, a spoonful of most precious sweet incense, he poured it on the kindled embers, that stood by him in a great vessel of silver, and then made a sign to them all to stand up, and go forward with their tapers lighted; those of meaner quality going first in rank, were followed by such as carried the Beer; next after which followed the Princess herself with her Ladies.  
The little Chapel was all over illuminated with no other light than wax candles, having its windows shut up with cloth curtains, to make the ceremonies seem more lugubrious, and the office more devout: In the end thereof stood a great Altar, hung round about with black velvet, whereon in stead of fringe, were richly embroidered divers trophies of death. On this Altar was not any god, only there stood fastened in the wall a large Tablet of delicate picture-worke, whereon with astronomical proportions was represented the Universe: in whose poles stood two hands full of light, that gave it motion, made in such a fashion as they seemed to be of a greater body than the world. And this body became invisible by being hidden by the interposition of the machine of the universe, but much more by its own splendent rays; the distance between these rays were filled up with good Angels, having sundry coloured wings, and about it might be read, And in perpetual working I 
 Find sweet repose eternally.  
As soon as they came hither, they laid down the Beer upon a rais'd-worke mourning Coverlet, adorned with many pieces of arms. The Priest having in his hand a silver vessel (that hung at small chains of the same, wherein was finest incense on fired coals) went thrice about the Beer, invocating the greatest jove. Whereto being answered by the Choir of music, he made a stand before the Altar, where (after a long silence) lifting up his eyes towards heaven, he said:  
O Lord, that art the true love wherewith thou joinest together in an invisible society, the things become incorruptible and immortal, we pray thee so to strengthen us as that we being divided from our corruptible and mortal parts, may comfort ourselves in thee, which art our only life and comfort: (and then putting more incense on the fire of the Altar, he spoke on.) Kindle (O Lord) our souls with thy ardent fire, that we being ride of the desire of terrestrial things, may withdraw ourselves from them, and trust only in thee; Let our prayers (for thy goodness sake) ascend up to thy sight, even as this incense by its nature mounts upwards; and as its odour is pleasing unto us, so let our prayers be acceptable unto thee. Let all the dead live in thee, together with him for wh●m we now pray, that though they be severed from us at this present in the diversity of their essence; yet that when we become conformable to them in essence eternal, we may join with them to praise thee world without end. To this the music (answering, So be it o God we beseech thee) sung an interchangeable choir consort, in a time so doleful as might move to plaint and heaviness the merriest disposition.  
In the mean time got up the Princess, and Metaneone (before advertized by Perseno to whom that duty belonged) was ready to help to raise her; supporting her to his so great content, as he might well in disparity (or in a contrary kind) contend to parallel her discontent.  
Come to the Altar, she taking in her fair hands the Incense, and laying it on the fire, returned, all the rest imitating her in doing the same; which finished she rose up again, and causing the statue of Perosfilo to be carried onwards with great solemnity, she causing it to be laid in a Press, made for that purpose, thus said,  
Behold (My Lord) the last duties of your Spouse, it pleaseth the heavens that it so be, and therefore must needs please me. I once hoped to serve you in another manner, and to place you elsewhere in an other-ghesse shape. But sithence it so pleaseth my cruel disdain, that in stead of your noble person, I may enjoy but your shadow and picture; behold me most ready and willing so to live all my life's time. The Bride-chamber (My Lord) is denied you, but not the Elysian Fields. And I taking thence example, knew not where to place your Image in a fitter place than this, which being dedicated unto the eternal, it is fit your Image should have another like here on earth. Which said, she with many tears, retired to her lodgings, wherehence all the rest retired to theirs.  
The Prince of Mauritania having laid aside his robe, and caused Perseno (whether he would or no) to sit down by him, thus bespoke him; I have received from you (My Lord) so notable a piece of service, as I will never forget it whilst I breathe; I pray you continue your good inclination to me-wards, whereby (I assure you) you shall reap nought else but honour; I part hence so enchained to the beauties and noble behaviour of your Mistress the Princess, as I doubt to die thereof; though I am more afraid that the selfsame will betide her, if she obstinately persevere in such an unreasonable and desperate way of Melancholy. My intent is to demand her of the King her father; but I doubt it will prove but lost labour, unless she alter her opinion: I am not of myself a man to resolve of any thing, without your advice, as well for my engagement to your Highness, as also because I find myself an insufficient Counsellor in this business, being only capable to receive it from you.  
Perseno (desirous to stand up, but retained by the Prince in his seat) made answer; (My Lord) you have no cause to think yourself obliged to me, sithence you well know, that I by your means enjoy both liberty, and life 〈◊〉 self: which though it were not so, yet would I nevertheless beseech you to command me, because in so doing, you much oblige me. Besides you may well judge, that the little service I did you, tended indeed to the service of my Mistress; and therefore the foundations of what you think yourself obliged for to me-wards, is quite demolished. For I forethought (most excellent prince) that you becoming enamoured of her (as I was sure you would be, considering her perfections) might prove a mean to divert her from her so strange a course of life. Because her being sought for, by so great and worthy Prince, as your Highness is, might open away to the business of freeing her hence. Of your resolution of demanding her of the King her father I approve right well, which the sooner it be done, would be the better; albeit I could wish it were carried in such a fashion, as the demand might not occasion any delay, (that is) that she were demanded by the gracious mediation of the King your father, and that with his own privity: because since such must be the issue of it, it is as good it be done first as last; as well to eschew loss of time, as also because the business may go forwards under the shadow, protection and dignity of both parties. Neither should her present humour give you any cause of disincouragement, because (hap the worst that hap may) we cannot be in worse plight than we are.  
And assure yourself that when you have gotten the goodwills of both kings (your father and hers) you will soon obtain her consent or no man breathing can ever gain it. Nay, we may well hope that when she understands herself to be sued for by you, to whom she is so much obliged, she may be more easily bend to a contrary resolution, rather for yours than for any other man's sake. Neither is this the sol● reason that moves me thereto, for know (most excellent Prince) that my mistress lives herein exceeding great danger; the fame of her beauty is spread far and near, many Kings have sued to have her, so that some one of them requiring her of her father may deprive you of her; or some other (considering her resolution) may resolve to take her hence by force; whereas if you demand her in time, you may then prevent the one, and the other hazard an inconvenience: for th● King her father will not deny her you; especially when the Countess and I have written unto him in such a manner, as we shall make him not only desirous, but also know himself obliged to grant her you: and as for others, when they come to know her to be yours, they will alter their intention of molesting her. Now for the Princess, I reply, that her resolution should neither hinder nor discourage you, because she is (in fine) a woman, and therefore subject to change, even as we are also. Neither can such a change be upbraided her, it being from worse to better, besides her being subject to her father, and obliged to the subjects as Heiress. And for what lies in my power, I 〈◊〉 not tell you any more, but that you see already that I am so far from pretending to oblige your Highness, as I remain therefore exceedingly obliged unto you for this, above all other engagements, whereby I am already tied unto you. And if you yet (like a noble Prince) will needs for all this hold yourself my debtor, yet shall it be satisfied by your following my counsel, and hastening with all possible speed the execution thereof.  
The Prince embracing him about the neck, expresses his thankfulness with the most affectionate terms that could be, and (pursuing their discourse) asked him, what new and strange manner of service was that which the Princess used in worshipping the gods? Whereto Perseno answered, my Mistress, as in material things she hath not any one thing ordinary or common unto others: so also in the vivacity of spirit there is none can paragonize or equal her; for she, (not contenting herself with the common opinion) examines the causes of things with such an elevated judgement, as there is not a Philosopher that can parallel her in the speculation of them. And that which above all other things makes her curious, is not only the variety, but rather the contrariety of opinions, almost in all ages, and those stiffly maintained by all such as were by the world esteemed for the wisest men, so as it might (not without good reason) be concluded, That humane wisdom is mere folly and hath no certain foundation. And if any man were more prized than the rest, it was not because he had reason to procure him better estimation; but because nature made him more acute than others in Philosophising, and in the art of speaking more dialectical in persuading. I will give you a touch of my Mistress her opinion in the generality of things, to the end you may imagine that the particulars degenerate not a whit therefrom. To this her sound judgement thee hath conjoined a Prince-worthy erudition; because she hating superficial and seeming disciplines, which puffs up the understanding, embraces the solid, wherein consists real and true knowledge; And albeit Philozophizing on the gods be somewhat dangerous, being it is dangerous to pronounce the truth, in that we cannot set it forth but according to our capacity, whence proceeded (not without some ground) that saying, that the truth thereof is best known by being not known: yet is it nevertheless lawful for us to know so much thereof, as Piety and Religion permits us; for if we were thereof altogether ignorant, then would there not be among us either devotion or Religion.  
About some two years sithence came from Lucania (I know not by what accident) that Priest you saw in the Temple, who being (besides his knowledge and learning) a man of an upright mind, and exemplary life, was bestowed on her by the King, to the end that by his conference she might be assisted and furthered in her studies, wherein they are come to such a pitch, as they have concluded, that the opinion of many gods is false, and that there is no more but one, and him such a one, as no understanding can conceive in that he transcends the limits and reach of our intellects. And that is the reason you saw no Image in the Temple. The picture (that is there) represents the whole world; and the two hands the providence of God, of God himself: forasmuch as he is the motor and original cause of all causes. The blood sacrifices are abominable in God's sight, neither ought he be otherwise worshipped, than with odoriferous and sweet smelling offerings.  
The Prince (marvelling not a little hereat) with a smiling cheer, said; Your Lady (the Princess) being far from superstition and vanity, and doubting lest she herself should for her divine qualities be reputed a goddess will have but one God invisible, and incorporeal; but this belief shall not enter so far in me, but that I will adore her. Whereupon interchanging together pleasant discourses, they resolved on a means to receive intelligence each from other And in the evening Metaneone (being upon departure) would have presented Perseno with an exceeding rich diamond, which he could never (either by forced courtesy or courteous force) work him to accept: whereby (being no less satisfied with the nobleness of his mind, than with his other gentle qualities) taking (in affectionate manner) his leave of him, he transported himself to his Frigate that road waiting for him, and departed.  
Perseno, now a glad man, that the business had so succeeded according as he desired it should, went, and acquainted therewith with the Countess, who astonished at the boldness of his resolution, could not choose but commend it, seeing it had so well succeeded. And being to render the King an account of their voyage and arrival, they wrote so well in commendation of the Prince, touching the purpose of his freeing and accompanying them, that more could not be said thereof, giving him withal an inkling of having discovered in him, a more than ordinary inclination to the fame and renownc of the Princess. Afterwards Perseno taking counsel touching the fortifying of that place, and having noted how Eromilia lived not without fear, deferring the building of the House and Temple, settled himself to wall it round; and beginning at the foot of the rock, fortified the parts adjoining to the ascent, with small pains and less charge, the rock itself supplying him with stone and lime.  
A little before the peering out of the Sun, came Metaneone to his Galley, where the Count with much joy received him: to whom he related all that befell him, extolling Eromilia her singularities with such superlatives, as the Count could not choose but tell him, smiling; Sobriety (My Lord) with these your commendations, no more I beseech you. Two things I want for becoming enamoured, and those are, the being young, and therewithal a Prince. If your Highness publish her to such as want neither of these, in such fashion as you do to me, (no doubt) you will have rivals enough.  
The Prince joying at the Count's words, could not satisfy himself in talking of her, resolving in any case to demand her. Neither could the Count therefore blame him, having been long before informed (by less assionate witnesses) of the merits of that Princess, advising him to go on in that match, not somuch for the satisfaction of the Prince, as for the interesses of the kingdom of Mauritania. Considering then how they had in their voyage too much digressed, he (as soon as the Prince went to sleep) caused to wigh up anchor and steer on a strait course for Sardegna.  
There blew from shore-ward a sweet gale of wind, and the Vessel scoured away amain, on each side courted with wanton Dolphins: when after having two days sailed with most prosperous weather, they were assailed by a tempest, so terrible, as the Masters-mate (with all his counsel) could not resolve of any course that could avail them, observing the winds so outrageously unstable, as when by the help of any one gale, they ran a course towards any part, they were suddenly rebutted and driven back by another: so as, not being able to obey any one particular, but forced to yield to the violence of all indifferently, they were constrained to room up and down, with an order so disorderly, that dejected and suppressed both in courage and force, they had given themselves over for lost, had not the goodness of the Vessel and ghing somewhat consolated them.  
The Prince no whit dismayed, in that he was assured of the soundness of his Galley, commanded to give her sea-room enough, but seeing no means of disobeying the winds, they gave their violence way, according to their alterations: so as, although they had desired to come ashore, yet was there not any means to do it, because the progress of ten miles was seconded with a greater regress. By means whereof, not knowing where they were, they danced at the sound of the rustling waves, more than eight days in the Centre of the sea, with the loss of many of their oars, shivered by the repercussion of the surging billows. On the ninth day the tempest being somewhat appeased, they descried above them the Island of Maiorica, and a Galley that set forth from Cabrera. Whereupon desirous to know whence they were, imagining her to be sent from the King of Maiorica to his daughter (by whose means he might write something to Perseno) he commanded to make towards her; but for all they could do, it was impossible to overtake her, for she so posted with the help of both oars and sails, that in the beginning of the night, she got quite out of their sight.  
The Prince (suspecting in his heart I know not what) seeing that though the tempest was calmed, yet the wind was against him, turning towards the Count, said unto him, I cannot imagine why this Galley should shun me; I have a great desire to follow her, because I cannot possibly steer onwards any further in my intended course, which I shall neglect but for this only night, during which time also, the Galley-slaves may repose themselves; seeing he wind will drive us whither I would go. The Earl, seeing him so desirous, would not contradict him.  
The sailed all night with their prore towards Lebecchio (being the way they saw the Galley hold) when at the break of day the Centree on the main topsail, told them he descried the Galley not above five miles off. The Prince, who lay on a quilt with his clothes on, and his arms hard by him, presently rose up; and causing the Galley-slaves to be meated, and the Knights armed, he pursued her with sails and oars: yet she (being one of the swiftest Galleys of all that sea) had not been so easily overtaken, if she had listed to fly away; but seeing herself traced after, she holding on her course as the wind carried her away, without putting hand to oar, seemed to stay and expect to be boarded. By this time they drew so near her, that the Sun (by then risen) discovered her fully; so that the Prince saw her with her rich lanterns, in bigness little less than his; well manned with soldiers, and numerous for galleyslaves; imagining therefore that she was no Pirate (as he had believed) he bade the oars forbear, and (with the advice of the Count) commanded Tolmido Captain of his men, to take a Frigate, and go see what she was; he (performing the command) quickly overtook her, as she sailed gently, without making any haste. And demanding what she was? he was asked again, who they were that would so fain know? Whereto Tolmido answering that they were of Mauritania; (just at that word) appeared a Knight of a low stature, and iron hue, at whose coming all the rest reverently retired themselves; whilst he fixing his eyes on Tolmido, said,  
Sir Knight, I know not what you are, neither am I curious to know it; me thinks you should be as little inquisitive of me. I can not imagine wherefore you have ever sithence yesterday so dogged me to no purpose. I will not tell you what I am, though I be such, as can tell how to chastise your indiscretion, if you keep not on your way. Tolmido (although by his garb and appearance, he guessed him to be no ordinary person, yet seeing him so stout) made answer.  
Let it not displease you (Sir Knight) that I ask what you are, in that you might be such, that he, who sent me to you, might perhaps honour you, if you were thereof capable, or did deserve it. It is the ordinary fashion of such as go by sea, to hail one another, and therefore you had no need to be therewith offended: but sithence that you are so disdainful and proud, as to dare (not knowing the terms of civility) thus boldly to threaten us, I am content to return with this your answer, and do believe that you will be fain to show, whether you can prove yourself to be so brave and valiant in deeds, as you are rash and arrogant in words.  
The Knight (not accustomed to such answers) taking a bow in hand, aimed at him an arrow, which if it had hit, where he leveled, dispatched had been the life of Tolmido; but fortune so favoured him, as it slipping by him, razing only his skin, and doing him no other harm, pierced into the water. Whereupon, he retiring himself with his company (though shot at by the Galley) returned safely to the Prince: who (seeing what violence was offered) advanced forwards, causing to be hung out the standard of war, understanding afterwards by Tolmido what terms were used, he could not imagine who that Knight might be, till at length he began to suspect it might be some Prince that went about to steal away Eromina, neither was he indeed therein any whit mistaken. This suspicion made him become more fierce and eager, so as having got the lee of her, he began to salute her with such a shower of arrows, as obscured even the midday Sun: Yet found he not her asleep, nor her men with their hands tied at their girdle, for as soon as Tolmido was gone, she turned back, and (mainly rowing) came on, to charge the Prince.  
The battle of Archers lasted not long, because Metaneone (not weighing a rush the fury of the shot-men) hastened to grapple with the Galley; and (having under him the best Vessel in the world, and the wind a-poope) encountered her with such a thump, as tearing off her snout, tottered and bruised her all-over: then armed with a halfe-pike (being backed by his Archers and seconded by his Knights; himself in person the first among the foremost gotten up on her prore) made such a massacre of all such as opposed him, that in spite of them he boarded her, where followed by his own men, he justling and laying about him with sword in hand, won her to her mast, where encountered with a Squadron of chief Knights, he was forced to retire himself some steps backwards. But resolved either to prevail or die, he Tiger-like flung himself on the little Knight, who was Lord of the rest, and getting within his pikes point cut it off close at his hand, charging him withal with such and so many blows as constrained him to fall down at his feet on the hatches; whence Tolmido taking him by the heels dragged him between two banks, intending (if he had had time) to cast him over board. Whilst the Prince obstinately pursuing the assault, got again as far forwards as the main Mast, and thence further, but with such difficulty, as he was fain to win the Galley by inches: for besides the good ghing, there were aboard her between Knights and soldiers, about two hundred, who behaved themselves very valiantly: of all which nevertheless there remained but sixty alive, & those for the most part wounded. The Prince lost some twenty of his, beside some of the ghing that were hurt with the arrows, and more had been killed and wounded, but that the battlements defended them. Then would the Prince forthwith know of the prisoners, what they were? and who was their Lord? Whereto they made answer, that they were Catalans, and that the Knight by him hurt, and perhaps slain, was Don Peplasos Prince of Catalogna, who (enamoured of the Princess of Maiorica, and understanding that by her good will she would not consent to any marriage at all,) went to Africa to steal her away, which he resolved to effect; without his own father's consent, and therefore unknown to him, set forth privily from Barcelona.  
Metaneone (rejoicing for so good an encounter, and that fortune, by such unthought of means had so favoured his desires) blessed the tempest that drove him thither, joying in himself, that it was his good fortune (by the instigation of an unknown desire to cut off and frustrate the designs of the Prince, which had they been effected, had made him the unhappiest man in the world.  
In the mean time lay Peplasos more than half dead between two of the ghing-bancks, when Metaneone (causing him to be ta'en up, and his wounds searched and dressed) sent the Count to visit him, and to tell him that he was sorry for his hurt, but much more, because he himself was the occasioner thereof; for had they but known one another, than that inconvenience had not happened: whereas his concealing of himself might have occasioned a greater disaster. But he, (more vexed at heart for the frustrating his designs than for his wounds) having understood who his enemy was, dissembling his anger, answered, That he was not aggrieved at his hurts got by the hands of so valorous a Prince, but rather thought him well employed, in that they gave him occasion of being acquainted with him: in respect therefore that there was not between them any cause of enmity, he desired to be permitted to hold on his way, seeing that if the inconvenience was occasioned by his ignorance, he well felt the smart thereof.  
The Count having related this suit unto the Prince (who then was upon going himself to visit him) gave him thereby cause to alter his mind, so as he went not, but sent again the Count, with order to tell him; That he was sorry he could not serve him in that particular; understanding how he was bound for Africa to steal away the Princess of Maiorica, an offence that extended itself to the King of Catalogna his father, the King of Maiorica, and to all other Princes; but more particularly to all Knights, expressly obliged to defend that sex. And that therefore he might do well to see carefully to the cure of his wounds, assuring himself he should not be detained prisoner, being there was a good and reciprocal amity betwixt both their fathers: but that the reason why he could not let him part suddenly was, because he could not be accessary to his offence, which otherwise he must needs have been, if knowing his intention, and being able to prevent it, he did it not: Nay, that he further knew himself tied as he was a Prince to remedy it, and as he was a Knight to chastise him, if he offered to put his plot in execution; but that he hoped that the qualities of his birth and dignity, (with the obligations accompanying them) had already therefrom sufficiently dissuaded him.  
Don Peplasos stood a good while after he had heard this embassage, without speaking any thing, till at length he burst forth into such speeches; The Prince of Mauritania favours me exceedingly in redoubling the pains of a person of your merit, thereby re-obliging me with the favour of his visits: But as concerning my voyage, which (as you tell me from him) was to steal away the Princess of Maiorica, I pray you assure him that whosoever told him so, lied most falsely, in that he informed him of an untruth in a matter so far from my thoughts, as that Princess (whom I never yet saw) is from my knowledge and acquaintance. And if my voyage hath given occasion to any ill-minded fellows to think so of me, yet cannot any such conjecture accuse me, neither am I such as ought to yield any man an account where, or which way I go, there being in those parts whither I am bound for, so many countries and such diversity of occasions wherein a Knight may honourably employ himself: As I hold myself greatly injured of such as judge of me rather the worst than the best; for the rest, I know the Prince for a valiant Knight, and have tried him, but yet arms (as well as other things) have their both fortunate and fatal days, so as if I should happen to affront him; this my present misfortune should no whit disencourage me; Albeit for the occasion he pretends, there shall neither be cause for him to chastise me (as he saith,) nor for me to defend myself, as I would do for any one, that would offer to injure me. If he please to leave me to my liberty, there being not between us any cause of hostility, he will then perform what he owes to the amity of our parents. If otherwise, and that he will rather credit the malignant conjectures of some villain, than the royal words of a Prince, I shall then have just cause to think myself hardly used by him.  
The Count could do no less than report all these speeches punctually to the Prince, who (not as much as moved thereat) sent for the Catalans, of whom he would know again, whither Don Peplasos intended to go; those that had already unadvisedly spoken the truth, could not revoke what they had said; the rest (who were so fortunate as not to be examined) said, they knew not their Lords intrinsical intentions. Howbeit the rumour thereof was so published, as the more cautelous sort, knew better how to conceal, than deny it. Whereupon Metaneone (unwilling by contestation to multiply the ruin of these men) resolved (with the advice of the Count) not to set him at liberty, until such time as Eromilia were thereof advised, and had taken a course for the securing of her person. But having discoursed of the manner of effecting it, they (considering of their being but sixty miles wide from Maiorica) concluded to pass that way, and thereof to advertise the King her father, and so with the merit of two so great services to give him then an inkling of the desire he had to be his Son in-law; not that he then meant to treat of the marriage, but only to prevent the suit of all such others, as might come thither to demand her.  
The Prince (glad of this counsel) fell off with a contrary wind to Fermentera, where he found a Frigate, that there road sequestered by the winds; The Knight that came in her, presently knowing the Galley Royal, ran with much joy to kiss the Prince his hands, who suddenly knew him for one of Eromilia's Knights; of whom when he understood of his being sent from her, with letters to the King her father, he told him what had happened between him and the Prince of Catalogna, and how that he continued not in his voyage, because it was necessary for him to go to Maiorica there to leave him in the King's custody, till such time as the Princess had made sufficient provision for the security of her person.  
Fidele (for such was this Knight's name) was much astonished at this news, and besought the Prince to grant him some odds of time, to get him gone before him, as soon as the wind should turn to be a little calmer, that the King by reading the letters of the Princess, might come to know the other obligation he owed him. To which request the Prince was at first loath to consent, supposing it was but to give the King of Maiorica time to receive him with greater pomp and honour; till afterwards considering the advantage he might come to receive by means of the letters of Perseno, and the Countess Palomera, he was contented to favour his request: and such was the luck that the wind in that instant (as it were) quite assuaged occasioned a great calm. Whereof Fidele regardless (having a good Frigate well provided of oars, and pressing forwards amain speed) arrived at Maiorica a day sooner than the Prince.  
The King (who was even dead of longing to hear news from his daughter) seeing this Knight present himself before him, was exceeding glad thereof, and understanding what had happened them in their journey as they went, and unto the Prince of Mauritania as he came) remained thereat strangely amazed, afterwards opening his daughter's letter, he found it thus said,  
My Lord, if I had been capable of content, I might say I had received it from your Majesty's letters, delivered me by the Countess of Palomero, being the greatest joy that an obliged and obedient daughter might possibly receive; yet doth not this incapacity deprive me of that comfort, which nature in all children, and your particular love towards me might suggest or put me in mind of: Insomuch therefore as you strive to surpass all fathers in loving your daughter, most ungrateful were I, if I endeavoured not to exceed all other daughters, in loving so worthy and deserving a father. But now me thinks I hear you say, that the last effects manifested the contrary: yet (My Lord) I beseech you (in this subject) to give credit even to the incredible, for my affection, which was the source of paradoxes, was so repugnant to all humane dispositions, as it is no wonder, if with it subsist contrarieties. Behold then, how I pretend not to excuse my fault, but do beseech you to impute it to passion: by whose means (like a raving sick woman come to the worst point) I wanted force to exercise those faculties which the wise make use of; so as my offence deserves rather compassion than reproof, in that it brings with it its own punishment. And now that I have acknowledged my duty towards you, together with the fault of my absence; give me leave (I pray you) to defend myself with the worthy occasion of my errors. Represent, Oh represent before you (My Lord) a Perosfilo, a Prince of such exceeding rare qualities, to whom was dedicated by you, my person, and by me, my soul; and then represent him before you dead. Alas, how could I possibly in so great disorder, observe any order? ay, that more than any other loved him, whom all loved, (and which is more) with a true and legitimate love: If then he were assigned me by you, to be the companion of my life, why will you not permit me to be the companion of his death? And where shall I ever find out his like? Indeed had I aimed at no other end than solitariness, I could have retired myself into solitary places, there at home: But what kind of a solitary life had that been, where every one would have baited and opposed me? Besides, how had I been able to resist authority? but much more your sweet persuasions wherewith you are able to divert the most constant resolutions? Now whereas you afterwards accuse me of small love; certainly (My Lord) if you think you have occasion to say so, I hope you have no reasion to believe so; for it is right all one, as if you accused me for a dead woman, and respectless of your grief, and of my mother's love, together with the debt I owe your subjects, and do you believe that it would grieve me less to abandon these respects, than it would do to lose my life? No surely, but the violence and wrong done me by such a conjecture, is at least as great (if not greater) than death itself; seeing it is true that love and death are both of equal power.  
I answer not to all the residue of your grave and prudent reasons, which although they convict me not, because they are grounded upon common suppositions, which in my case (void of all rule) give no rule at all; nevertheless the reverence I owe you obligeth me to receive them, as if they had already convinced me. My loving family I will love, and among them the Countess above all: little thought they once to see me in the estate of a Mistress, but of a slave for company with them. It pleased God that the Prince of Mauritania freed, and conducted them here in safety, as shall be told you more at large by Fidele, the bearer hereof, whereto I refer myself; beseeching you that (in respect I could not thank that Prince by word of mouth) you would be pleased to supply my defect, by sending to the King of Mauritania his father, and to him such personages, as are capable of executing such an embassage. Touching the particular of my person, I know the danger wherein I am, and will fortify myself in such a manner, as I may be able (the place being strong of its own situation) only with my own family to defend myself, and live secure from all the world, so I be but furnished with victuals. And in the mean time God will provide for all, whom I pray to grant your Majesty the height of felicity, and to me that comfort, which being absent from your Majesty I cannot receive. Eromilia.  
With this letter the King became somewhat consolated, in that he thought he had wrought something on his daughters melancholy: Albeit she therein made no mention of returning homewards; nevertheless he could not choose but be well satisfied with the accidents that had happened, hoping they would prove a means to induce her to alter her intention. But when afterwards he had seen the letters of the Countess, and Perseno: he thought than that the Gods had sent them that Prince to free them from affliction. Therefore (having given order to receive him with all honour, and that notice should be given him, when he were descried in the sight of the Island) he went the day following himself in person to meet him on the sea-coast. The honours wherewith be entertained him were such, as might be expected, from an inferior, and the love such, as could be hoped for from a loving father. The Queen (who both by the relation of Fidele, and also by her own letters comprehended the Prince his merits) received him with such tenderness of affection, as a mother is wont to welcome her endeared Son.  
After reciprocal compliments, the Prince retiring himself aside with the King, told him, that the cause of his coming thither was an accident, that chanced him with the Prince of Catalogna, whose servants had plainly confessed that they went with an intent to steal away the Princess Eromilia, because their Prince had no hope of obtaining her by any other means. That it seemed not good unto him to take him along with him, lest he might think himself detained prisoner; muchlesse would he by any means set him at liberty, lest he should then effect his design: And that being now wounded, his Majesty (under the colour of hospitality) might detain him, and in the mean time advertise thereof the King of Catalogna his father, and send the Princess provision to assure her from such like dangers.  
The King not knowing how to find out words correspondent to the quality of his beholdingness, omitted no means of letting him see, how dear he esteemed such notable and so worthy services.  
And concerning Don Peplasos, told him, that a better course could not be thought of, whom he would detain, and have a provident eye to the curing of, his wounds, till such time as he had effected all that the Prince had counselled him. And so passing from business to compliments, and from compliments again to affectionate passions; the Prince, who according to the custom of lovers, had not all this while the boldness to open his mouth in his own desire, (whereat the King marvelled, believing that the Countess and Perseno, who had thereof written unto him so confidently, were altogether deceived) yet now (having lighted on so fit an opportunity) said unto him,  
Your Majesty is together with the title and dignity of a King, endowed by the heavens with inclinations so Royal as they embolden me to supplicate your Majesty for one favour, since that you have been so courteously pleased, as to command me to ask you any thing. The King all joyful (taking him by the hand) made answer, that he could not do him a greater favour, than to demand whatsoever he desired, assuring him he would not deny him any thing comprehended within the limits of his power. The Prince then kneeling on one knee, (whence he would not be raised up, do what the King could, until he had first expressed his desire) said unto him; The boon I then beg of your Majesty is, that your Majesty would vouchsafe to be pleased to accept me for a son, by giving me (for wise) my Lady the Princess Eromilia. Whereunto the King raising him on his feet answered,  
Worthy Prince, your Highness obligeth me more in disobliging me, than I can ever deserve, much less requite. My daughter cannot be bestowed on either a greater or worthier Prince than yourself; and the demanding her, as a boon, in so gentle a manner as you have done, had been a sufficient motive to have induced me to give her you, if nothing else had tied me thereto. Therefore I tell you, that without ask either counsel or advice of any one, (be it the Queen or Council) as is usually done between Princes of our condition; I will, that she be yours for as much as concerns me. Whereat the Prince would have kneeled down again to kiss his hands, but the King (staying him up) spoke on, I told you, for as much as lies in my power, because for what is in the power of others, I must request two things of you, the one is, that there may be obtained thereto the consent of the King your father; and the other is, that therewithal be procured the good will of my daughter, for well you know in what kind of resolution she lives in, as yet; howbeit I trust (God willing) by the means of your merits (seeing the authority of a father could not hitherto prevail any thing with her, which I have not as yet made use of, but have reserved it for a fitter season) we shall in a small time obtain our desire.  
The Prince humbling himself again replied, Sir, I would not have presumed to demand her on any other conditions than those you propose, and do assure your Majesty that if I had not feared to have been prevented by others, I had not thus have asked her of you, ere I had first wrought the King my father to demand her for me himself by his Ambassadors, which shall be done in its time fit, and when it shall please your Majesty to command it. And as touching my Lady the Princess, I will comfort myself with this, that if she marry at all, then is she (by your Royal liberality) to be mine. Having afterwards acquainted the King with the occasion of his voyage, how he was bound for Sardegna to fetch home his brother, they accorded, that the one with his daughter, and the other with his father should labour for the accomplishment of both their desires, which was to be concealed till such time as the Princess could be persuaded to alter her resolution. Then came they forth amongst their attendants very pleasant and merry, which caused all to rejoice, being the first time that a joyful look was seen in that Court, sithence the departure of the Princess.  
The Prince of Catalogna was in the mean time removed out of the Galley, and carried to the city in a horse-litter; which though performed with much honour, seemed nevertheless strange unto him, believing he should be there detained prisoner. And being now visited by them, after that the King had entertained him with some courteous speeches, Metaneone thus said unto him,  
My Lord, I grieve more for your hurts than I have cause to excuse myself for having given them you; for if you had (when you knew that my Galley was of Mauritania) either used me friendly, and not threatened me, or but as much as in some sort pronounced (not the name of your person) but the place whence your Vessel was, then had I not felt the sorrow and displeasure I now feel, nor you suffered the prejudice and loss you have and now do; for which if it might be remedied, I would endeavour to give you satisfaction, not for that any offence of mine thereto binds me, but because indeed such is the inclination of my nature. The reasons that persuaded me to bring you hither, were your wounds and the ill plight of your Galley, wherein (wanting so many of your folk) you could not have defended yourself from any one that had listed to injure you. Howbeit if the importancy of my business could have permitted me, I myself would not have feared to have conducted you home to the King your father, whom I believe to be a Prince so just, that understanding how things passed, he would have had no occasion to have wished me any harm; the like hope I of you also: There being then no place nearer your kingdom than this, nor any King more courteous and friendly to both our fathers, than its Sovereign here present, I thought good to recommend you to his Majesty, to whom I have related the disaster of our encounter, which grieves him so, as he desires that you stir not hence in any case, till you be fully cured. Whereupon the King (interrupting him) said, My Lord, Prince Peplasos, I need not add any thing to what my Lord, Prince Metaneone, hath spoken, neither will indeed your hurts admit tediousness: we are (you know) friends and neighbours; lay aside then all melancholy, albeit you are in a house where dwelled no mirth these many days; have but the patience to stay till you be cured, and you shall then go whither soever it please you. And albeit I know you came from Catalogna unknown to your father, yet pretend I not to correct you therefore, much less to judge between you both; only I pray you give me leave to acquaint your Royal father of your being here, and the messenger I will send, shall not part till you please.  
Don Peplasos (not hearing himself accused of his fault) with a merry countenance, answered; That he would willingly write to his father, thanking therewithal very kindly, the one, and the other, with words, in show the most courteous that could be, reserving nevertheless inwardly an implacable hatred, rather to the virtue than person of Metaneone, who, having taken leave of him, was by the King entertained with all such honours and pastimes as the time permitted him.  
The Queen acquainted by her husband of all passages, was exceedingly glad thereof, and by his directions, presented the Prince (at his going away) with a flat box all chased over with diamonds, wherein was enclosed Eromilia's picture; which the Prince well knowing, would therefore by all means needs kiss her hands. And thence (having embarked himself) with a prosperous gale of wind passed over to Sardegna.  
The End of the Second Book.   

CAVALIER GIO: FRANCISCO BIONDI HIS EROMENA  
The Third Book.  
ENtertained was the Infante Polimero by the marquis of Chia, without any excess of extraordinary courtesy (for so would he have it,) where having reposed and aired themselves a while, they went thence to Caleri, causing the slave to be brought along with them well guarded; whom the King (joyful that he had gotten him into his hands) commanded to be close shut up in a strong prison, till the time of his sufferings and punishment, which was to be deferred until the return of the Princess Eromena.  
Polimero would have kissed the King hands, (who understanding t● came of purpose to serve him, and for that end, desired to be made a Knight) seemed to be delighted with his forward ●p●rit and gentle demeanour; and when he asked who he was, the marquis durst not discover him (so strictly was he tied by promise to conceal him) which notwithstanding the King denied him not the honour of Knighthood.  
There waited then on his Majesty the marquis of Bossa, with some other of his Council, all the rest accompanying the Princess; which marquis of Chia, desirous to understand the state of business since his departure thence; that other of Bossa (at this his request) in the presence of Polimero, thus said,  
After the Prince's misfortune (whereof I believe this noble Knight hath already been fully informed) the Princess marching out into the field, was advertized how that King Epicamedo was with a strong army passed over to Cape Luogodori, and that the Prince his murderers, being united and siding with him, had (for his assistance) procured all that Country to revolt. Whereupon (imagining that her speedy coming thither might hinder that infection to spread abroad among the neighbours) she made forwards to those parts, & found that Valentino (a small Castle forsaken by the men thereof, for fear of not being of number sufficient to keep it) was valiantly defended by the women that therein remained, against all the enemies united forces. Whereby she (very joyful) divined, and seemed to foresee, that she (a woman also) was fore-destined to defend that state; with which hope inspired, she increased her army with all such as she met by the way, she assailed the enemy in the nighttime unawares, making of them such havoc, as Epicamedo was constrained by retiring his forces to raise the siege from Valentino. Which Country for being extraordinary hilly, afforded him the commodiousness of retiring himself without any hazard, till (after he had gotten out of the mountains) he was set upon afresh by the Princess, hard by Villapetres, who did that day so renowned exploits, that those of Camilla, and of a number of other famous women, were nothing in comparison of hers. For she had three Coursers killed under her, and personally affronted Epicamedo in two several encounters; at the first whereof she unhorsed him; but resolving at the second, either to kill, or take him prisoner, hardly escaped the being killed herself; for being environed with the King's guard, her horse being slain, she was like to have been also herself by them either slain or taken prisoner, had she not valiantly defended herself with the death of more than fifteen of them. Neither perhaps had all this freed her, hand not a squadron of women of Valentino, (who followed her as Voluntaries) rescuing her from the danger she was in, remounted her on horseback, maugre all those that fought against her; by whose example every man behaved himself so valiantly, that the enemy (with his ranks altogether disordered) was fain shamefully to retire himself under Villapetres. Epicamedo remaining by the hand of the Princess wounded with two deep cuts, whereof he was not as yet cured.  
Having thus raised the siege of Valentino, chased away the besiegers, and withal beaten them in open field, she forced them to retire into the very Villapetres, and keep themselves close therein, as if they had been besieged.  
In which mean time, those of the Princess her council of war were diversely opinionated of what was best to be done; whereof some would have her pursue the enemy until he were quite vaquished; others thought best, that (having blocked up Epicamedo from going on any further by the opposition of the valorous Valintinean women together with one part of the army) they should with the other part overrun the country on the left hand towards Sassari, where they understood the Admiral resided, who (ere he could be advertized of her coming and of the discomfiture of Epicamedo) might (together with the city) run the hazard of being taken prisoner; to this last advice the Princess somewhat inclined, but was dissuaded by the nearness of the enemy's Galleys, doubting lest they landing their men, might break those troops she left behind her; or else dividing their froces pursue them, and environ them in, betwixt the King and the Admiral. Whilst she stood thus doubtful what course to resolve of, there arrived before her a Knight (to her full well known) who kneeling down said,  
Most excellent Lady, I come from the Fleet which as yet rides in the Port of Torre, where the horrible treason against the life of the Prince was published by the Traitors-selves, by whom the chief of that country (being called for before them to Sassari, and earnestly wrought upon to join in the Rebellion) seeing themselves in their power, could do no less than promise them their service. But now being retired to the Fleet, and risen up in arms, have taken the Count of Montevero prisoner, who was then aboard the Royal, in the Admiral's place, and because there is already a Galley sent to give his Majesty intelligence thereof along by the West coast; I was also dispatched away in a Frigate, with commandment to coast hither along by the Eastern shore. But being by the tempest weather-beaten into Tolata, I understood that your Highness was gone out with the army; and therefore imagining that the Galley might by this time have performed that service without me: I came post hither, to acquaint your Highness herewithal.  
The Princess hereupon (as soon as she read the letter, sent her by the Commanders of the fleet) determined to put their last consulted enterprise in execution, who (leaving in her camp five hundred horse, and five thousand foot,) about the first watch in the night, set herself with the rest of her forces on the way to Sassari. And this is the sum of all, that hath been hitherto done. But we expect with great desire further news, having already received a confirmation of what I have now told you, by the Galley that arrived here the other eventing, who hath spent many days in coming hither, by reason of those past tempests, and was also chased by certain Galleys of Corsica, that lay at Asinara, who had already understood of the revolt of the fleet, who never lost sight of her, in all the storm, being wind-driven, or rather, weather-beaten into the same place not far distant one from another; but as soon as the wind grew calm, the Galley (being well rigged and manned) with the favour of the night got quit out of their sight, and arrived here in safety.  
The marquis of Chia lovingly thanked him for this relation, and then taking Polimero aside, asked him, if his intent was to part suddenly for the Camp, which having understood so to be, he replied, Mine (indeed) was once the same; but the conservation of our fleet gives me occasion to put in the place of Admiral, wherein (if once I but desire it) I cannot have any competitor. Therefore if you please, either to dispense with the obligation I have to serve you only in this particular voyage; or else, to entertain yourself here, till such time as I have dispatched this business, which shall soon be (I being assured to be sent back to the Princess) I shall receive it as a special favour. The Infante (affectionately embracing him) answered, that his company would be at all times most acceptable unto him. Howbeit that, for so weighty an affair, he went to deprive himself thereof, praying him not to neglect his business, which he would be exceeding glad to hear he had effected, there being not any necessity of neglecting his affairs, for so short a journey. Having then taken instructions for the way, and licenced himself from the King, he set him forwards on his journey to Sassari, riding with as much content as could be, to see himself free from domestic broils.  
Carasio, seeing his Lord addressed to a war of every one so favoured, was very glad thereof; nor joyed it less Polimero's youth to survey a Country so differing from his, where in stead of parched sands, and barren downs, he feasted his eyes with the various aspect of most fertile hills, nature showing herself so liberal, that being in other places sparing, she seemed here to be prodigal, which gave him occasion of discorsing with himself, that the pleasantness of Poggio, and others of his father's seats, (compared with those he now saw) were but mere appearances, and besides but artificial works, requiring much toil and pains in conserving them, whereas there were here to be seen the more than ordinary excellent works of nature, which clothed with sundry devises, shamed all artificial colours, affording such content to the senses, as they were capable to receive by the fruition of those objects proportionable to their proportioned incliantions. And if this variety seemed unto him so strange in a country so little distant from his in latitude, what would he have thought of others far more fortunate and delightsome? Sardegna being not of itself one of the best Provinces, though as then well enough inhabited, and sufficiently rich to sustain its inhabitants, and withal to contribute corn to many other countries, which grew superabundantly in the Province of Luogodori.  
Three days traveled Polimero without encountering any adventure; on the fourth he saw coming riding towards him from afar off, a Knight on a horse, droppin wet with sweat, and quite tired, which for all that could do by spurring him, he could not make go on one step further. Whereupon, knowing Polimero for a strange Knight (lifting up his beaver) he said unto him,  
Sir Knight, I beseech you favour me with your horse, for mine being tired can pass no further, yet must I make haste for the King's service to whom I am sent from the Princess.  
Polimero hearing such an unreasonable demand proceed from a personage, of whom, by his rich armour, and by what his aspect promised, such a request was not to be expected, made answer,  
Sir Knight, if I knew, that you could not perform your duty with any other horse than mine, I would gladly give him you, to do the King or Princess any service, whom I also desire to serve as well as you; but knowing that you might have furnist yourself in place, through which you have passed; or if you could find none there, that you may speed yourself howsoever at Cornetto, I hope you will hold me excused, by so much the rather for that I going myself to serve the Princess, should do her but simple service, if I were deprived of my horse. But as the gods shall protect you, what good news bring you with you? What hath she done at Sassari? Is that Traitor the Admiral perhaps taken? The Knight (altering his colour at these last words) answered him; The taking of the Admiral is not a thing so easy as you believe: casting with that word his eyes about, to see if any body was coming, and seeing none in sight, he spoke on: The Admiral was never Traitor, but a Knight that can revenge injuries, as now he is ready to revenge this which thou dost him, and to take away as a good prize (together with thy life) that horse, thou wouldst not give him by courteous means; which said, he lightly vaulting off his saddle, drew out his sword.  
Polimero taking him (by these words) for the Admiral, was the joy fullest man in the world, and giving Carasio his horse, drew out his sword, and said, Yea marry, this is the only way to get the horse; if thou being the Admiral (as thy words descry thee) hast the courage to kill me Knight-like, as thou slew'st the Prince, Traitorlike. Well, then, come do thy worst, for I will do my best, to revenge in his injury, the wrong done to all Princes. The other replied not with words, but with a great blow which he made at his head, ere he was in his guard, or had time to bring thither his shield, which had put him in an ill plight, had it not happened to fall athwart, so as it lighting on the crest of his helm did him no other hurt, than the cutting off of a small piece thereof. To require which courtesy, Polimero, having put him to ward a feigned blow, stroke uviht a true one at his helm, with such force, as hitting him in a place unarmed, it there made an ample wound. The Knight (who desired nothing more than a quick dispatch of the combat, seeing himself thus disadvantaged in the very first blow) resolved with himself to adventure at all. For the effecting whereof, having spied out his opportunity of closing, got in to embrace him, throwing away his sword, that he might the better use his dagger; then he stuggling to throw him down, tried his armour every where by potching it, to see if he could find any place unarmed. But Polimero, being fresher and stronger than the other, (lifting him up by the hams) threw him flat on his back, and seizing on his dagger (whilst he lay amazed with the fall) held its point before his helmets sight, bidding him yield; which because he would not do, but struggled to get up, Polimero stabbed him in a place unarmed under the short rib, laying him thereby to measure again his length on the ground; and taking him for dead (because he saw him stir no more) he unlaced his helmet, to assure himself thereof, when seeing him yet alive (though not in plight to defend himself) he said unto him,  
Tell me (Sir Knight) in plain terms, who you are? Because, if you be the Admiral, and had as well avenged the death of the Prince, as you have done mine, you had not been in the plight you now are in, which had been much better for you; for the longer the gods delay punishment, the heavier inflict they them, as now they do to you, by not suffering you to die by my hands. Which as he was speaking, he saw coming towards him a great crew of Country Peasants, armed with pikes and javelins, who seeing the wounded Knight on the ground without any helmet, straightways knew him; and not knowing Polimero otherwise than for a stranger. Alas, My Lord, (said they) what mean you to do with this wretch, which you keep under you little better than dead? How much better befits it him to die by other means, seeing your hands are too worthy for him, and he far unworthy to die by them. For he is (if you know him not) the Prince his murderer, the Author of the Rebellion, the occasioner of the war, and we pray God he prove not consequently the cause of our utter ruin.  
Polimero glad of such an encounter, said unto them, My friends, if you will promise me to bring him prisoner to the Princess, I will leave him in your hands. How? (answered they) If you please to deliver him us, we will most willingly obey you, not only for our promise sake, but also because it is an employment we much desire; for (we pray you) be pleased to know, that this is the Admiral, the common enemy, both of the Kingdom and of all good men; howbeit for your better assurance, if you list to return back but two miles, we will deliver him up (in your presence) to the Magistrate of Cornetto. That will I not do (answered Polimero) you seem to me to be such, as I need not doubt of your honesty, see therefore, I leave him in your hands, take him, for I give him you: which said, he mounted on horseback, leaving him as yet in a swoon on the ground. But they having laid him athwart his horse, without bearing him any kind of respect, lead him to Cornetto, and delivered him up to the Magistrates charge, who caused his wounds (whether he would or no) to be searched and carefully looked unto.  
Polimero (joyful for what had happened, and continuing his journey) understood by the way how that the Princess surprising Sassari at unawares, had taken prisoner the Baron of Frisano, but that the Admiral escaped away; and that her Highness was withal speed returned under Villapetres, ere the King of Corsica could be informed of her absence thence. This news made him (leaving Sassari on the left hand) hold right on to Villapetres, whence come to Valentino, he understood how the Princess was already arrived at the Camp; wherefore he thinking every hour one year till his coming to see her, having refreshed his horses, passed on, and came to the Camp, just at such time as Epicamedo's men had begun a brave skirmish; which growing greater and greater, increased almost to the magnitude and form of a battle. The Princess stood beholding it (from the top of a hillock) encompassed with the principal of the army; when looking aside, by chance, she spied Polimero descending the side of a hill, in great haste, for the great desire he had to make one in the battle. It seemed to her that she never saw Knight of a better grace and seemliness (except her Brother Perosfilo) and not being able to refrain looking on him, she perceived that he had a desire to fight: but he (come to the place, and seeing the enemy at first but weak in number) stood still to behold the skirmish, which by degrees increasing, began to exasperate. The Princess would not suffer hers to be succoured, for the great desire she had to see what this unknown Knight meant to do; when he (seeing issue forth of the enemy's Camp a troop of horse, that came to charge the Princess her squadron in the flank, and perceiving no man stir from her side) put on Flammauro with such velocity, as the wind could not have surpassed him in swiftness: and then (without regard of being all alone, but preferring the necessity of aid before the difficulty of the enterprise) himself alone resolutely charged them all. The Corpse Captain (desirous to break his lance in the cuirass rather of a Knight than of a mean pikeman) ran with his lance rested fully at him; so as in the midst of the career each of them hit his opposite, but with contrary success; for the Cors burst his lance (as he made account to do) without doing any further harm, and Polimero in the encounter broke his also, but left a yard and a half thereof in his enemy's breast. Then reining his obedient Courser to the right hand to divert himself from encountering the whole troop together, he managed him so dexterously, as (having broke through them without receiving any blow) he turned face again with sword in hand, sooner than they could do the like; and withal (ere any one touched him) sent with three blows, three horsemen tumbling to the ground. In the mean time, though all struck at him, yet was there not any that could fully reach him, by reason of the great fierceness of Flammauro, who (as if he had been inspired with a reasonable soul) would not suffer any one come near him; yet would he come so near to the others, as his master might well come to strike them: never in her life-time ever eyed the Princess a more pleasing spectacle, considering the valours of the Knight and Courser, so fitly shared between them, as by assisting one the other reciprocally, they became Invincible. Well knew she him to be a stranger, in that all her Knights were well known unto her, imagining he could be no less than a Prince that enjoyed so rich a treasure, as so unvaluable a Courser. Polimero seeing no man assail him (after he had killed and beaten down above twenty horsemen) with redoubled courage, began to charge them anew, but finding no armour that either denied entrance to the fine edge of his damask blade, or resisted the force of his victorious arm, nor any Courser that in nimble gires, and curvets, could match his Flammauro, he forced them to save themselves by flight; himself breaking in suddenly with the same fury among the foot squadrons, where those of his side following him, would have slain them all, had there not been sent fresh troops to their relief. Who shooting a good while whole clouds of arrows, gave Polimero cause to fear lest his horse (which then by the trial he had of him, he esteemed more than all the kingdoms of the world) might be thereby endangered; and therefore retired himself from such a hazard. But the fiery Steed though obedient to the hand, by his neighing, puffing, snorting and looking backwards, expressed how unwillingly he retired, which he manifested so evidently as the Princess had thereby occasion to say, that he needed not speech in that he expressed himself better by his actions.  
Polimero seeing him so willing, and knowing him to be so barded and trapped as he could not be hurt elsewhere than in the legs, resolved to adventure him, not without entering into the opinion of such, as believe the transmigration of spirits into bodies, his Flammauro so fortuned, that having emptied their quivers, they so closed in the shock, as they had scarce room to use their swords.  
The Princess continued heart-ravished (as it were) with this her gust, spectatrix of the sweetest sport that ere her eyes beheld; neither could she tell (till she saw Polimero's helm off) whether she more affected the horse, or the horseman, being so rapt with the pleasure she conceived, as she took no notice how hers were disadvantaged. Whereupon the marquis of Oristagno could not choose but say unto her;  
May it please your Highness to give me leave to succour our men, lest that noble Knight judge us to be far more cowardly, than we have esteemed him valiant; whereof the Princess was well content, but would not for all this stir thence herself. The marquis then followed with a noble troop of Knights (being himself most nobly descended from the blood Royal, and withal the richest of the Sardegnan Lords) issued forth at such time, as Polimero (after he had a little reposed himself) was about to go to renew the charge. Who seeing coming towards him the marquis, richly armed, and not knowing who he was, he stayed for him, till such time as come to him, he said,  
Sir Knight, I beseech you pardon us, for having left you alone, seeing your matchless valour needs no succour; and truly, but that we doubted you would have thought us discourteous, we had permitted you alone to undergo the brunt of destroying Epicamido's whole camp, we are now come hither by her Highness' Commission to obey and follow your arms and command. Polimero (inclining himself somewhat downwards) made answer;  
Sir Knight, if my actions were such as might deserve the commendations you give me, I should deem myself exceeding fortunate; but the little time that makes me know you so courteous, makes me know also how little reason I have to believe myself valorous, and yet that little in that respect alone, that I am favoured with your applause. As touching my not being succoured, I have reason to believe, that I needed not any, because of the justice of the Lady Princess; neither could I (without being much to blame) entertain so unworthy an opinion of such worthy Knights as ye are; nor is it indeed possible that any one fight for such a cause as this, can choose but be courageous if not valorous: and for the rest, I am come hither with an intention to serve; if therefore you be to fight, behold me ready to obey and follow you.  
The marquis (who was one of the most courteous of his time) had not left Polimero's answer unreplied unto, had he not been prevented by the enemy, who perceiving these Knights descend the hill, had form a squadron of the best of the host, to go encounter them, which the marquis seeing now come galloping towards him (with their lances rested) said to Polimero; The Lady Princess is that only one that can parallel your courtesies, see where comes the enemy, let us go meet them; at which words, he (spurring his horse) passed on. But Flammauro at the only cheek of the hand (as if he had known his Master's will) sprung forwards such a leap as he left behind him the marquis. Polimero had no lance, for he had broken it in the first encounter, so as being encountered by many, he bore the brunt of them all, without moving ever so little of his seat, yet struck he down at every blow a horseman to the ground, being assured if he failed any, his horse supplied his default, who beat down so fast as even his own friends feared to approach him.  
Epicamedo, who began by this time to recover, and had left his bed, being desirous to see what was done abroad, caused himself to be carried up on a hill, accompanied with divers Lords, among whom were the Earls of Reparata, Pussinera, and Castle Rabone, with the Barons of janque and Lagosardo all the Prince his murderers, seeing now so rich a squadron on the enemy's side, would needs know who they were, wherein he was satisfied by these Lords, who well knew them by their devices. But as they knew not Polimero, so were they astonished at his valour. By this time had the horse (issued from their side) received the charge, after the foot were cut all to pieces. Epicamedo, not able to support this so foul a disgrace, (all swollen with disdain) called for his arms. The Surgeons were not able to dissuade him, who although he was by reason of his wounds grown weak, yet was he far more stout than feeble, and because he could not suffer his head (not as yet well cured) to be armed, therefore would he needs go bareheaded. But those great ones that were about him, in the end so prevailed with him, as (calling for their horses) they quieted him with assured hope, that they would by the getting of that day's victory recover the honour of the field.  
The marquis of Oristagno (seeing the enemy's foot overthrown, and their horse but few, and these retiring) drew near Polimero to conduct him to the Princess, judging the residue sufficient to make good the field; but now perceiving issue from their side more than twenty troops of horse, he said: I once thought that the enemy had contented himself with the loss he hath already sustained, but he (I perceive) is insatiable and will have more, let us see what troops are these: looking then towards the Princess, he perceived she sent him succour; and coming afterwards to know (among the enemies) the Count of Reparata and the other Rebels, he showed them Polimero, but more particularly those that slew the Prince.  
The Princess (seeing the conflict grow greater and greater) mounted on horseback, and causing the Trumpets to sound, so roused up Epicamedo's spirits, that she saw him send forth for a supply well near all his horse. Whereupon she doing the like, and drawing nigh the battle, came to know all the Traitors, of whom being desirous to take some alive, she discovered her desire to the warlike Valentinian women, who always made good their places in the flanks of her own troop, and then put herself forwards among foremost, where Polimero was, that with one blow had newly beaten off his horse the Count of Castlerabone: the women alighting strave to carry him away, which they could hardly effect, because of the great resistance of the enemy's side. The Princess (grown furious to see them all before her) thrust at the Baron of janque, which fortune so well guided, that it passing between his cuirass and pouldrons came out at his back. Polimero who by the colours of Sardegna, by her rich upper garment, by her horse royally trapped, (but above all) by the comeliness of her person, knew her for the Princess; and observing her strive to get this prisoner, put forwards Flammauro, who by making a large room, gave the women time to save their prize; and then changing his sword into the other hand, he compassed with his right arm the Baron of janque about the middle, and spurring on his own horse, plucked the other shear off his, which he performed with such facility, as one would have thereby judged his force to have been sufficient to have removed a Tower, and delivering him over to the charge of the Valentinian women (whose design he well observed) he encountered the Count of Reparata: whilst the Princess (in the same place) affronted that other of Pussinera. But in respect all their cavalry ran thither to succour them, the throng grew to be so pressing as neither the one part nor the other had been able to stir, if Flammauro had not made them room, for he keeping off with his heels such as were behind him, gave Reparatas horse such a shock, as made him (being not able to stand) press down with him (as he fell) that of Pussinera, who tumbled down in a bundle with him, with the legs of the one Count and the other under their horses.  
And because Flammauro was that only he, that could make all stand off, Polimero, leaving to others the charge of bearing away the prisoners, took care to secure those, that bore them away from being hindered by such as would have rescued them; wherein he had no small ado, by reason they were all upon him, so as he had not got from them alive, but that the Princess rescued him, who seeing him barricadoed about with the enemy's horse (none of them daring for all that approach him) being seconded by the marquis, and the Valentinians with an unresistable force, broke into their ring, by that means freeing him from the danger he was in, without having the power, either to speak one word unto him (although she was always close by him) or to separate herself from him, though she knew no reason therefore. Wherehence I gather (concede me I pray you this small digression) that among the hidden secrets of nature, that of sympathising is one of the truest, which if we judge vain in respect of the operator, may yet prove to be not altogether such in respect of the principles of nature. For as experience teacheth us, that the influence of lights and planets are true in the mutations of qualities here below, which none can deny, that deny not sense itself; so may we also argue from the like, that the other stars have also their peculiar influence, which if it be granted, and that we allow them to be promoters of affections, then must they be such also of love and harred, by reason of the divers proportion of their aspects, and not of elections or casual accidents; and if they, or these, be changed from their former into a divers proportion, and that the celestial signs be found to be of divers aspects, and that some of them be malignant, others not; some predominant, and others obedient; this may proceed from the foundation of daily conjectures, whereby we see one friend rule another, the sons the fathers, and the servants also oversway and (in a certain manner) domineer over their Masters.  
So now Polimero, before ere he saw the Princess, became enamoured of her; and she (likewise without seeing him) fell so strangely in love with him, that the more willingly she eyed and followed him, the less power had she to speak to him; Nay, (almost deprived of all boldness and courage) she feared either to look in his face or fall in conference with him.  
He in the mean time scoured over all the field edged onwards by his great spirit, and by the desire he had to show himself worthy of the favour of her whom he had elected for his Lady and Mistress, stand long still to look on her he could not, as well for a native respect potent in that age of his, in teaching him that necessary circumspection which might give others no occasion to take notice of his thoughts; as also because it behoved him to have an eye both to himself, and to his horse, who delighting in the war, gave sometimes such countertimes, as might teach a good Horseman to stick firm to his seat: yet failed he not to cast a careful eye to her dangers, wherein he (abandoning all other care) rescued her twice from being oppressed with the enemies.  
Of all the Prince his murderers, there remained free, none but the Baron of Lagosardo: who albeit he were fierce and courageous, yet fought he nevertheless very circumspective of his person, not that he feared to die, but because he feared to fall alive into the hands of the Princess. Him Polimero knew not for one of them (though he had been showed him as well as the other four) yet encountering him by chance, he struck him on the nape of the neck with a back blow, which made him bow down his forehead to his horse-necke; which he (come to himself) requited with a thrust in the flank, whence began to gush forth store of blood, which the Princess perceiving (and desirous to revenge) violently flew at him with such a fury, that (maugre those that would have guarded him, or her own determination of having him alive) she never left him till such time as she saw him mortally wounded, fallen down and trampled, not weighing a rush all the rest; especially because Polimero, though he had no finger in her combat as long as it lasted, guarded nevertheless her person in beating the way round about her with his Flammauro; by which means he defended her from all such as would have strucken at her.  
By this time the enemies could do no more, nor hold out any longer, having lost almost all their Captains, so as there remained no other eminent Commander than the King alone; for the remnant of the Rebels (being the Earls of Sarda, Terra nova, and Longeria) were run away for fear of being taken prisoners: So that if either the day had lasted, or Polimero not been wounded, then even there had ended the war, and perhaps the life of Epicamedo. But Eromena doubting lest his wound were mortal (in that she saw gush out thereof such store of blood) caused a retreat to be sounded, and then suspicion chase away respectiveness; she having lifted up her beaver, said unto him;  
Sir Knight, so great is the obligation I owe you, that it grieves me, my power is inferior to the desire I have to express my gratefulness: I see you bloody, but know not how you feel yourself: Do you believe that your wound is very deep?  
Polimero, as soon as he saw her face uncovered, permitted his greedy eyes to run to such a longed for sight, thinking he saw the heavens opened, and those parts, which with celestial symmetry form that face, to be congregated gods; howbeit he was dubious in the absolute distinction of the greater from the lesser, seeing all generally Majestical, and every one by itself worthy of the service of so many more worlds. But those splendent eyes (full of sparkling rays, that pierced through the concentred point of his heart) made him a little stagger, whose lustre was as that of Apollo, but their virtue as of a greater Deity; for these in stead of dazzling the material eyes, strike those of the mind with so reiterated rays, that there is no lightsome splendour, either of Sun, Moon or Stars, which contains the thousandth part of its own virtue so fully in itself, as these possess all of all theirs, in a manner so unexpressable, as the most perspicuous wit could never form to itself an Idea conformable thereunto: And although her language had its pre-eminence, and that it had captivated the understanding in its first apprehension; nevertheless the shafts of her eyes made themselves be esteemed the arms of love, nay his throne, nay his heaven, nay jove himself. Wherefore having already lifted up his beaver, with an humble garb and true posture of veneration he returned her this answer;  
And who can ever presume (valorous Lady) to think himself worthy or capable of serving you in such a manner, as that your deserts, and the duty of who so serves you, exceed not a thousand times his service? or what greater recompense ought any one pretend from your Highness, for any service than your service itself? such have the gods made you, that being only and absolutely singular in all excellent parts, you only should, for being such, be excladed and exempted from the debt which others own by the common law of nature. As for me I pretend nothing else than your service, neither expect I other guerdon than that you would vouchsafe to be pleased to give me leave to serve you: wherein if my fortune or your benignity make me so happy, as that my service be acceptable unto you; I shall account in at unpretended gain. But as for my wound, I think it be not dangerous, if my sense beguile me not, which indeed it well may, seeing that who so lives with the gods is not subject to the feeling of any pain; your divine presence is sufficient to ease all kind of pains, and cure all manner of wounds, though deep and inward, as I repute mine to be at this instant rather exasperated than given.  
The Princess, in the lifting up he made of his beaver, rested so ecstasied, as if she had been strucken with lightning, believing not till such time as she heard him speak, that he could be other than a damsel like herself, whom some emulation had drawn into those parts. But having afterwards examined the arguments for the contrary, she could not satiate herself in beholding him, yet not all of him, for her eyes (become immovable) had not the power to stir from their first object; so as fixed altogether on his, her eyes twinkled not at all, and so exceedingly was she ravished by an unknown power, as she was forced to understand the invisible intelligences that passed from one heart to the other. But when she afterwards heard his courteous conceits, his modest pretensions, and his last words, of her not understood amiss; she being such a one, as both for vivacity of wit to conceive them, and for incomparable beauties and exquisite perfections, to deserve them was every way peerless, imagining withal that so lofty a thought could not be lodged elsewhere, than in a Prince's heart) she with a gladsome countenance made him this reply.  
You are too too curious (Sir Knight) in prising a feeble damsel so highly as you do; and too little affectioned to your selfe-wards, in so slenderly esteeming your own worth; for such have your services hitherunto been, as I judge myself more than any other, indebted to that common law you speak of, the exclusion from which if it could be granted me in any case, should then be for services done me by my father's subjects, who are thereto obliged by nature, and by the favours they daily receive; but in this case a stranger hath no place, his service not depending on the law of subjection, but on his own freewill and election, wherewith he greatly obligeth whom he serves. But leaving this aside, methinks your wound hath no need of delaying its cure, which since it is such as you tell me, let us hence to our tents, where (I hope in the gods) the danger will not prove such, but that you may be soon cured thereof: for there have we good Surgeons, and withal these our mountains are full of virtuous herbs, by means whereof you will in a few days (I hope) find yourself recovered and a sound man.  
Polimero would no further reply, for doubt of being esteemed audacious; which she observing, put off her glove to touch his hand, as she was wont to do to her guests, and he gently taking it in his, affectionately kissed it, to the great pleasure of them both, acutely conceiving their joys to be equally shared. The marquis and others seeing him of so tender an age, and so rare a beauty (after interchange of courteous compliments) could never have their fill of looking on him, deeming his force to be unproportionable to his years, and his delicacy to his valour.  
Being come to the tents, and the Surgeons sent for, he was (by special order from the Princess) laid a-bed, and dressed in a tent not far from hers. The wound was in the fleshly part of the flank of a good wideness, of no danger, and of a likelihood of being soon cured, whereof the Princess was exceeding joyful, and had willingly gone in person to visit him, but that modesty and her dignity forbade her.  
The day ensuing, it was resolved in council, that no time, nor respite, was to be given the enemy, already half overthrown, but that he should be assailed in his trenches: when (as they were going out) there appeared before them some Country Swains, who (delivering the Princess a letter,) told her they were of Cornetto, where they kept prisoner the Admiral shrewdly wounded; whereupon she being very inquisitive to know how he was taken, one of them knowing Carasio (who by chance waited there to know what the Council would resolve of) answered her; the Master of that same squire there, is he that delivered him us, to bring him (as sent from him) to your Highness, but he is in so bad a plight at this present, as that we could not bring him along with us. Hereupon the Princess (knowing Carasio) knew also by him, whence the present came; so as (turning towards the Council) she said; A happy star was it for us, that conducted hither such a Knight as this, who in a small time hath done more himself alone, than all our forces together; for although the overthrow at Valentino, and taking of Sassari were of importance, yet all had been to little purpose without the taking of this Traitor and the rest, which were by him ta'en yesterday; calling upon this for Carasio, she enquired of him if what they said was true: which when he had affirmed, and saw that she joyed much thereof, he further said; I believe not, that your Highness knows as yet all that might in that respect make up your joys more complete, and thereupon acquainted her of the imprisoning of the slave; How (said she) is the slave a prisoner, and I know nothing thereof? It is most certain (answered Carasio) and with that related unto her the manner how he was found at sea, by the marquis of Chia.  
Scarce had he finished his discourse, when there arrived unawares a Post from the King, who brought also letters from the same marquis, wherein (after the news of the slave) he recommended Polimero, describing him by his aspect, arms, and horse, giving her withal an inkling of his being highly descended, and of his coming of purpose to serve her in that war. Which news afforded her (as she conceived) a colourable excuse to go see him; and therefore asked Carasio if a visit of hers would be discommodious unto him, who (having answered her it would not) advertized thereof his Master; who (at the Princess her entrance raising himself on his elbow) said,  
The Tent (Madame) in that it is your Highnesses, may perhaps deserve this favour, but never I; although I possessed all the merits in the world: (and as he would have spoken on) the Princess interrupting him, said,  
Since then (Sir) the Tent (as you say) is mine, it is fit that I command in mine own house, which otherwise I would not presume to do with you, but by way of entreaty: Repose yourself on your pillow, or I will get me gone, courtesies are not supportable when they be prejudicial to your wounds. There is no wound can prejudice me (answered Polimero) that is anointed with the precious balsam of your Highness' favours, yet must I needs for all that obey you, for to that end was I borne. Whereat she smiling said, I could do no less (Sir Knight) than come to see you, to yield you thanks for the present you sent me ere your arrival hither, whereof I know nothing till this instant; I pray the heavens I may be able to show myself not ingrateful unto you, for (for my own part) I owing so much, have (without their aid) but little to satisfy so great a debt. He then (willing to raise himself anew, and she charging him to lie still) made her this answer:  
Your Highness her presence enjoys a virtue so excellent, as it is not (either in respect of itself or of others) capable of receiving of the least blemish of defect, so as what in others might be perhaps styled importunity, is in your Highness no other than a favour, who being so bountiful a distributresse of your courtesies will not suffer me to go away, without largely participating thereof, for that I well know that they point fully at me, so as I hope for more ease and good to my wounds from them, than from all the balsams, and sovereign herbs in the mountains of Sardegna; by so much the more am I therefore indebted unto your Highness, by how much you exceeding with your goodness and bounty, the weakness of my deserts, deem me worthy of that merit which no dignity can deserve; for the rest, if presents ought to be prised for their good qualities, then hath your Highness no reason to thank me for this, because among men there is not a worse than that Traitor; or if by some consequence, or motive of just revenge, your Highness think this present meritorious, yet cannot that neither make it thank. worthy, seeing all men are obliged to justice, and Knights above all other, and yet above all Knights I, who have dedicated myself to your Highness' service, ere ever I knew you.  
The Princess, having fixed on him her eyes whilst he spoke, exactly surveying, and considering with herself his beauty (which exceeded that of any other in his time) his comeliness, and behaviour, (gifts in him natural, and by education perfected) together with the sweetness of his words (which pronounced in a feemely order, and with a certain kind of inimitable utterance won the hearts of such as heard him) maugre the vigour of her courage, the virtue of her dignity, & her formerly made deliberation never to affect any could, not choose but love him; which she afterwards continued with a passion so excessive, as there was never woman that ever more truly loved than she. Moved then with the affects of love (borne, at the first sight, or ere she beheld his face, and grown up by seeing him with his beaver off, but now waxen ripe, in both seeing and hearing him,) she rested so troubled in her mind, as she knew not what to say, till at length somewhat stammering, and bewraying with her humid eyes, the state of her burning heart, she said unto him:  
What shall I say to you? (courteous Knight) sithence that your virtue being subordinated to the divinity, a type of all virtue, contenting itself with itself, despiseth those fruits which humane virtue delights in among mortals? You will be obliged unto me, and will maintain, that you cannot by serving of me disoblige yourself, if humane affairs proceeded in such a fashion, than were the conditions of some miserable, and of others tyrannical: for those straightly bound without being able to untie themselves, and these quite loose, and free from all possibility of becoming bound, could never hold that relation together, that nature requires equally among things not unequal. Wherefore in that we are in nature equal, and therefore necessarily borne to this relation, it must needs follow that who so serves, deserves; and that you being the obliging, I must consequently needs be the obliged unto you: otherwise (by treading the paths of divinity) all humane ways would be quite destroyed. Your wounds (Sir Knight) though peradventure not your actions, bewray you to be a man, and being such, how can you hold yourself tied to this snare of obligation, and to this chain of servitude without ever pretending either liberty or reward? Nay, not so much as commendations, being you must strip yourself of that also, if you will sustain the machine of your paradox? You free from all kind of debt and duty, either of vassalage or otherwife, have done me so great services, as I may not endure to hear you degrade (by the indignity of the prize) your worthy actions that so much oblige me; and if your argument were true, the gods should never be exalted by me, seeing their good turns extended no further than to the purging the world of monsters, and to terrestrial things here below on earth, who nevertheless ought with great reason to be adored, as those by whose means we receive all goodness. And if by the other argument you believe you could not oblige me in that you were already obliged to justice; give me but leave to tell you, that the just man is indeed commended only by justice, not because we are not all bound to be just, but because the law of justice doth not compel us to have a hand in all just causes; and therefore, you for having a hand in this, and in a cause of such a nature, and withal with the hazard of your life (whereto justice obliged not) acquire thereby the praise not only of a just man, but also of a stout Champion, for which you deserve the guerdon, if justice cease not to be justice.  
Polimero, (seeing her so profoundly dive into the centre of the Ethnics, with a resolution not to be vanquished) making her with all respectiveness a submissive cringe, to manifest his yielding as conquered, said thus unto her; Let not your Highness imagine (I beseech you) that I mean to oppose your courteous Tenants, by so much the rather because they tend to my favour. And although that truth in its power can do more than all powers, this rule nevertheless shall for this time suffer its exception; your Highness' generosity of necessity exceeding and surpassing truth itself. Pardon me (I pray you) for so saying, for had I said otherwise, it would have proved a species of Rebellion in my service, which (although your arguments rather stop my mouth that can express little, than persuade my faith, which believes what it ought) being it desires to conserve itself faithful, cannot choose but confess even to the death, that the condition of my services, is nothing in comparison of the royal merits of your Highness, which of themselves are such as by vouchsafing to suffer them, to be known, is a guerdon sufficiently satisfactory, to whosoever is graced with the favour of knowing them.  
Thus did love solace itself in these two Lovers, but with a certain extraordinary order: for being wont in other to creep by degrees, in these would he needs manifest his Deity, and show himself to be a god, though blind, yet eyed sufficiently to spy out two spirits, who (participating of celestial essence) merited to be by an extraordinary way infused with his graces. Therefore would he have the beginning and the period to be both in the same instant, and that from their reciprocal affection, should suddenly spring forth a certain knowledge, as if they had been long before acquainted each with other: So as (banishing all compliments, and depriving them of all whatsoever they had learned, either by nature or from the Court, in the art of dissembling;) he taught them to understand and discern the scope of their different arguments, and yet would he have them understand mutually each the others meaning, by the secret intelligence of the means already adoperated.  
Eromena then (breathing amorous sighs from the internal centre of her heart) thus replied; I well perceive (Sir Knight) that under a false title of service, you are resolved to command me, which (for the clearing of some opposing ambiguities) makes me very desirous to know but who you are; for albeit I am constrained to yield unto you (were it but for your valour's sake, which makes me deem you most noble) yet should I think myself exceeding happy, if fortune therewithal concurred in the rest. Whereat Polimero (taking her by the hand, and with extreme joy kissing it) returned her this answer: Your Highness shall in this point be very shortly obeyed and satisfied, for I hold it more difficult by prowess to make myself known to be worthy of what I pretend to be already, than to be known, for that other, who as yet is altogether unknown. Tell it then (replied the Princess.) Command me it not I beseech you, said then Polimero; only be but pleased that the wars first be brought to an end, and that my true service, which shall never have end, may establish its foundation of actions; this accomplished, I will not only pray the heavens (contrary to all my own arguments) to be favourable in granting a reward, but will also beseech your Highness' self to bestow one on me: neither shall I presume to desire it at your Highness' hands, if fortune and nature concur not in a higher pitch, than I shall ever be able to arrive with the humility of my service, considering the infinite deserts and high merits of your HHighnesse. On this Eromena (desirous to know him, and not allowing those his excuses) was disturbed by the marquis and other knights, by reason of whose coming she retired herself thence a little after; and so did these others also, after they had passed with Polimero such observant terms of good breeding, as (because of the last news) they judged convenient.  
The morning following was Epicamedo assailed in his trenches; but not with any particular valour of singular persons; for the Princess went not thither, and Polimero lay wounded, the others suffered themselves to be governed by a common and ordinary spirit, which commonly rules by ordinary means. So that the fortifications being good, well flanked and as well guarded, and the defendants become (by past knocks) more careful and resolute, not to give way to the valour of the enemy, there therefore ensued an honourable retreat with small loss of men, and no disadvantage of acquired reputation. the Corpse's (to show they were not vanquished) in the succeeding days, issued forth incessantly to their wont skirmishes, with an intent rather of prolonging than finishing the war; although many were of opinion that their best course had been to retire themselves, in that their hopes were by so many contrary fortunes almost quite overthrown. But Epicamedo (that of all the Corsan Kings was most courageous and fierce, no whit daunted to see his designs broken off, his friends lost, and himself forsaken of such of them as survived,) had already sent post over into Corsica for new forces, so fortifying (in the mean time) the situation of his Camp, as he made it of its self apt to bear the brunt of any sudden assault, as might tend to the forcing of his trenches, which lasted many days, until the recovery of Polimero, who all this while had much ado to detend his being concealed from the urging importunity of Eromena.  
Whilst these things were a doing, the Fleets at sea were diversely governed. The Sardan road in Porto di Torre contented to conserve herself. And the Corsan (who was stronger by ten Galleys) commanded as Mistress of the sea, scouring the coast from Tolata to Corsica, without any danger, when she leaving fresh forces, and disembarking them at Terra-nova (a place near the Camp) rome over all that river, leaving always eight or ten Galleys at Tolata to supply such occasions, as might fall out to be necessary, either for the affairs of the army, or the King's service. Now when all these of the Fleet were returned from Corsica, and had landed some thousand foot, fifteen of them wafted off towards Porto di Torre, to see if they could by any means draw forth into the Main, the Sardan Galleys; which under the command of a brave Vice Admiral lay at anchor in the haven, expecting the arrival of the marquis of Chia, with a good number of Galleys, that were a rigging and arming in the Arsenal of Caleri, towards the augmenting and reinforcing of this Sardan Armado.  
Now the marquis had obtained of the King the office of Admiral, on condition that Eromena thereto consented, wherefore he came to Villapetres, and got the confirmation thereof, by means both of his own merits, and of Polimero's intercession, to whom he so performed his promise of concealing him, as the Princess could not possibly come to know thereof any thing else, but generalities, wherewith albeit she was exceedingly contented, yet remained she nevertheless in a confused manner, confusedly disquieted. Returned afterwards to Caleri, he there stayed waiting until the Galleys were made ready, wherewith (though inferior in number) he hoped to affront all the Corsan Armado. In the mean time the other Galleys (as I told you) lay at anchor under the command of a Vice-admiral; who (because his power was limited, and his Galleys but twelve in number) would not venture them far, knowing that the loss of these few Vessels might occasion the ruin of the whole enterprise. The Centrees which he kept watching ashore on the Promontory, gave him notice of the coming of the enemy, together with the precise number of their Galleys, besides one Galley more that came from a contrary point where of they knew not what to think. The Vice-admiral therefore judging it a great shame to suffer himself to be assieged in his own haven, the enemies having but the advantage of three galleys, or at the most but of four (if that which was coming from the West, were also one of theirs) resolving to prepare himself to fight, launched forth of the haven in good order, not believing that the other Galley was any foe to them, because the kingdoms of Spain and Maiorica (whence she seemed to come) were in good league and friendship with the Sardegnan crown.  
By this time the Corpse's had divided their fleet into three small squadrons, where of two consisted of six Galleys apiece, and the third but of three, which (being disentangled) might succour where occasion required; And the Sardans divided theirs into two only, not reserving any Galley for succour. Gotten then within shot one of the other, they began to let fly their arrows; the three fetching a large compass came with their Archers to charge the Sardans in their poop; and after they had for a good while maintained their shot (perceiving the approach of the Galley of the West that with main force of oars came flying towards them) they went two of them to hail her, whilst the other thirteen went on to grapple with the twelve Sardans', with such shouts and cries, as made all the sea-coast resound at the noise thereof. The two approaching near to that other, and seeing her with three fanals or lanterns, but without any Standard, wondering what she might be, held still their oars; the other did the like, but carried away with the mere force of her course, she bore up so near the other, that the Corpse Captain might conveniently ask her whence she was? Where at she (knowing them for Corpse's) plunging her oars suddenly in the waters, run full-but on the next to her, giving her such a violent shock, as she, being but of three and twenty banks, scaped hardly a sinking, and then being boarded by a brave squadron of Knights, was (after a short skirmish) taken, with the death of such as strove to defend her. Mean while her fellow-galley, thinking this stranger so busied as she could not resist her assault, resolved to charge her stern, where having settled her snout on the ladder, and reached out their grappling hooks to hold her firm, that so they might mount her by scaling, they were beaten back by one Knight alone, that threw down into the sea above fifteen of them one after another, who were there drowned with the weight of their armour; the rest (playing wide off with their arrows) were in a case but little better, because the enemy (being exceedingly well armed) showered such clouds of arrows, as forced this Galley to forsake her lost fellow, and fly back to the rest for safeguard; but the stranger (not weighing the want of her men that were aboard the other Cors, seeing they were Masters there of) made amain after this, whom she overtaking assailed, and in a short time (boarding her with her men) made her fellow captive with the other; and because she could not choose but use some cruelty towards her for the assuring herself of her the more speedily (she being resolved to succour those others of Sardegna) she cut in pieces almost all the soldiers, and withal cut off her oare-ties that she might not run away; which done, she bent her course towards the Corsan Admiral; who, not able to sustain a new assault, having had but too much to do with the Sardan Vice-admiral, remained in the power of the Sardans. Then after assailing another, and taking her, it came to pass, that the Corsans first losing their odds of vessels, and afterwards overmatched with disparity and disadvantage, were all of them taken, so as there escaped not as much as a Pinnaee of all their number.  
The Vice-admiral, who before was in a doubtful plight, and had (without this succour) for all his valour gotten the worst of the day, not knowing whose that Galley might be, went aboard a Frigate, and come to her poop, he saw that Knight (that with his own hands had tumbling down so many overboard) clad in costly armour, of a Majestical aspect, and environed with a ring of noble Knights, that honoured him as their Lord; and therefore imagining he could be no less than a Prince, he kneeled down before him; when the other (not permitting him) said, Stand up (Sir Knight) for I may not hear you in such a posture, whereupon he (rising up) answered; I will obey you (my Lord) for all things oblige me so to do, yet shall this not hinder me to acknowledge, that your presence merits to be by me spoken unto in such a posture and fashion. I know I enjoy this victory by your means, and that it is to you, that the kingdom of Sardegna owes this debt. I am therefore come to yield you thanks for it, not conformable to your dignity, though such as may be better expressed by the affection of a grateful heart, than by the unpolisht language of a Knight that is more Mariner than Courtier. I will say no more, because I judge your quality to be such, that to offer you myself with these Galleys, saved by your valour, would add so little to your greatness; as you would peradventure disdain them. I am not indeed Admiral of this fleet, and therefore ppossesse not such absolute authority as were requisite for your service; nevertheless, so great is the service that the King my Sovereign hath received of you, as I may in this particular without presumption assume full authority, which shall be to offer you, besides his Galleys, and those that man them, whose hearts you have by your help won already, those also of the enemies, acquired by your arms, that you may dispose of them, as to you may seem good, being well assured that I can never do a service more acceptable than this to my Sovereigns the King and Princess.  
The Knight that had all this while listened unto him with a constant Majesty, changing it now into a smiling countenance, thus replied; (Sir Knight) I can do no less than accept very kindly your Noble courtesy which you could never have manifested by a more generous spirit than your own; but as it befits me not to accept it according to the largeness of your offer, so hold I it very inconvenient not to accept of some portion there of, and that shall be your amity. Leaving the rest for you and your soldiers, together with the honour of the day, whereof if you will yet needs have me participate, it shall suffice me to have with my coming, hastened your victory. I am Metaneone, Prince of Mauritania, come hither to find out a brother of mine, who (I know well) is come to Sardegna, with the marquis of Chia, to make one in these wars; I have a great desire to get a sight of him; and because he (for some respects) will perhaps conceal himself from me, and shun my presence; I would fain be so directed as I might unawares come to find him out, ere he knew any thing of my coming, wherein if you can further me, ' you shall oblige me exceedingly.  
The Vice-admiral, notwithstanding the Prince's commands, kneeled down before him, and because he could not come to kiss his hand, he reverently kissed the skirt of his armour, and then (raised up again) he said,  
Most valorous Prince, to reply or repeat things already spoken were supper fluous, especially considering that of so great a Prince as is your Highness, all gifts are to be accepted, as I also accept all, save only one, where of your Highness (though liberal) ought not to be prodigal, and that is the honour of this day's conquest; which if it happen that your Highness refuse, I will erect to fame a Trophy thereof, so great, as you shall be (whether you will or no) constrained to accept it. And as concerning the rest, had you not mentioned particularly the marquis of Chia, I could not have certainly satisfied your desire in any thing; yet now I know that the youth that came with him, lives unknown, and hath performed such martial exploits, as it is most necessary and requisite that Sardegna being already engaged to the one for his land enterprises, rest obliged to the other also for his achievements by sea: he hath kept his bed (wounded) almost this month, and lives (not far hence) in the Camp with the Princess. If your Highness please to go thither by land, your way will be the shorter, but more difficult, if by sea, more commodious, sudden and unexpected; whither I will wait on your Highness, together with the whole Fleet; for in that the King of Corsica hath but ten Galleys now left, I intent to seize on them, ere they can come to know any thing of the loss of the others. Nor can the King Epicamedo escape death or imprisonment, when he shall be thus deprived of his Galleys, being that he can hope for no help from the Rebels; the greatest part whereof are taken prisoners, and the remaining three, fled.  
The Prince commending this deliberation as prudent, and seconded with the approbation of the Count of Bona, told him, that he himself would partake with him in that enterprise, the rather because that way was most commodious for him. Returned therefore to Porto di Torre, and leaving there the Galleys they took, (except four which they caused suddenly to be armed and manned, reinforcing the others with the Corsan ghing) they set out for their determined voyage.  
Polimero kept his bed longer than he made account to do, for getting up one day to go skirmish, his wound then half cured, bruised by his armour, began to rankle and fester; wherefore the Princess would not suffer him to arm himself any more, till such time as that wound were fully cured, together with two more given him the same day. It grieved him to the heart to see the Princess in all dangers, and himself not able to succour her, the rather because the enemy was so well fortified in his Camp, with sundry Forts and redouts over all the field, as made him even despair. Such was (in the mean time) the affection between them, that it was impossible to believe how strongly it was joined with a passing modest discretion (a well known enemy to fervent love:) but too too green youth in the one, and native modesty in the other, moderated their affections, whence sprung those effects in love unaccustomed.  
The Princess could by no means come to know who he was; which made her often vex at herself for having had so little forecast, as not to have forced the marquis of Chia to tell it her, assuring herself that he well knew i, although he made show of the contrary, the rather because in his letter to her he wrote, that he was of a high descent. And albeit she could believe no less but that she was beloved (for had she but imagined otherwise, she had been dead a thousand times) nevertheless this constant concealing himself put her in doubt, causing her to syllogise; That who so loveth, the same obeyeth the thing or subject beloved, but he obeyed not (because he told her not who he was) and therefore he loved her not. Another time she would imagine that he concealed himself for not being able to make himself known to be of such blood as might be deemed any way worthy of her: Or if he were, that then he did but profess affection only to pass away the time (during the continuance of his stay there,) in pleasing his humour with the title of love. But when she considered how his royal manners unmasked him, repenting herself of her censure, she accused her judgement of temereity, it grieving her that she had her spirits so offuscared as in not knowing him, not to know herself. Only she was certain, that if this torment lasted, her life could not long endure, grown already impotent with the tedious suffering the violent fits of her amorous fever, wherewith she had every day such a bickering, as caused the corals and roses fade away from her sweetly Majestical face, like one languishing and fainting underthe burden of some tyrannous disease: which gave many cause to conjecture, that the delicaete of her sex kept disproportioned company with the stoutness of her courage, and that watching, weight of arms, and other discommodities of the wars diminished the excellency of her beauty, so that if the war continued, it might well revive in her the valour of Perosfilo, but quite destroy the beauties of Eromena.  
Polimero on the other side, the more his external wounds healed, the more did his internal exasperated and fret. Well was he assured of the love of the Princess, which made him not become insolent (conformable to the levity of youth,) nay rather, though neither his stars had inclined him, nor her beauties and good parts forced him to love her; yet had mere gratitude (a great mistress of gentle spirits) been powerful enough (without either influence of stars, or attraction of beauties) to have compelled him (in a certain manner) even to adore her. And how much rather then by inclination or compulsion, was he constrained to do it for divers other respects? When he considered the excellency of her singular endowments; by so much the more worthy of all merits, by how much the virtues of both sexes being united in her, had of the Idea of beauties (compartible among all women) form one woman alone, and withal (to make her more admirable) conferred on her all manly valour and courage. And that therefore his was a fortune fortunate, above all fortunes, to be beloved of her, who above all other women merited the sacrifice of all hearts. And if every great Prince (how potent soever) had reason to esteem himself happy, if he came to receive but the least of those favours, which he hourly enjoyed; by how much the more should he, being poor, without means, and the meanest of all his brothers, think himself (among the happiest) most truly happy? It grieved him he obeyed her not in a matter so frivolous, which she so much desired to know; yet he excused it, in that he was ashamed to manifest himself ere he had given a more ample expression of his merits; because the being sprung from blood Royal, was but a quality to content the world. The nobleness of a mind so divine, as exceeded all Royal state, requiring a quality more sublime to content itself; so as he for being not able to reach with the lowness of his services to the height of her perfections would have utterly dispaired thereof, if he desire to serve her, more than the service itself (eternally inferior to his duty) had not made the way of her favour easy to his merits.  
Little else could Polimiro ponder in his mind, the greenness of his years not affording him as yet other effectual affections, than the less secret, and his want of experience, depriving him of the light of nature, which is wont to bear a great sway, even in childhood itself, unless a true love (interposing itself) engender a virtuous eclipse; his speculations were altogether of abstractions, for in not knowing he knew, and though he knew not how, yet well knew he what he would fain have, and what he would fain not have: Full little was he as yet aware of that the negative might have place in a courteous Lady; he being not (ever so little) acquainted with those things, (which though sued for) might be without discourtesy denied. Much was he troubled and vexed for his hurts, thinking that the time spent in healing his wounds, wounded him in losing so much time in her service, his heart persuading him, that (with the ardent desire he had to deserve her) he found himself sufficiently encouraged to chase away, not only from his trenches, but even from Sardegna, both Epicamedo and Mars himself.  
Whilst Polimero stood thus feeding his amorous melancholy, in came the Princess, who accustomed to come every day to visit him, and the better to shadow her affection, held her council of war about his bed, under pretext (for the honour due to his valour) to receive also his opinions. Where, after thanking her for the trouble and pains she vouchsafed to take in coming to visit him, he besought her to give him leave to go out to the field, for that he well saw that that air agreed not with her constitution, and that therefore she being unaccustomed to hardness and disasters should do well to take some course to avoid them. Whereunto the Princess (that well knew the cause of her alterations) made answer:  
My Lord, you would fain govern yourself, according to the greatness of your stout spirit, which at this present aught to resign its government to your person, that may not be otherwise ruled than according to your present indisposition; you well know and feel what prejudice you have got thereby already; I pray you think on it, that it may serve you for a warning, to dehort you from incurring again into the like inconvenience. My indisposition is not such as you take it for, neither doth any toil prevail over any tenderness or ease that I have been formerly used unto; Have but a little patience, and when the Chirurgeons condescend that you may (without danger) get up, then will I also be therewith contented.  
Whilst thus with reiterated supplications Polimero endeavoured to obtain his request, there entered into the tent Carasio with a Currier come from Porto di Torra, who kneeling down before the Princess, delivered her a letter, which opened, she found to be the Vice-admirals', and contained the news of the victory, obtained against the enemies with the conquest of fifteen Galleys; which chanced him by the aid of one Galley, commanded by a most noble Knight. And that now he was resolved (having armed four Galleys of those fifteen he had taken, and reinforced the rest) to assail (with the assistance of that other Galley) Epicamedo's Armado at Terranuova; whereof he would render an account to her Highness, whom he besought to charge the enemy by land, in the selfsame time, if it seemed good to her Highness so to do.  
The Princess having read this letter, gave it Polimero; and sending for the Council of war, caused it to be read unto them, who approved of the opinion of the Vice-admiral. And because the sea was about two and twenty miles thence distant, there were placed many Centrees along the mountain towards Castrodesen, who (as soon as they saw the Fleet appear and assail the Corsan Armado) were to give a signal, with smoke in several places; which was performed with such secrecy, that no man knew it, except the Council, and him that (standing Centree at the sea) might serve to give all the rest directions; nor was there any danger of his falling into the hands of the enemy, because the Sardan horse was Commander of the field.  
Polimero (when the Council was gone) turned towards the Princess, saying, Alas, and will your Highness do me this shame, to let me lie lulled here amongst the feathers in such an occasion of service, when others toil themselves abroad in the field? Not I by any means, (answered the Princess) so that the Chirurgeons permit you but to go abroad; and as she would have spoken on, in came the Chirurgeons to dress him, who were so favourable towards him in their opinions, that the Princess was contented he should get him up.  
Much was Polimero troubled in mind, ever fithence he had read the Vice-admirals' letter, wondering with himself, what, or who might be that most noble Knight therein mentioned. On this, jealousy already crept into his imagination began full cruelly to sting him, making him believe that it was some Prince, who (moved with the fame of Eromena) was come thither of purpose to serve her. And because his heart was tortured with the passion he felt, therefore he resolved rather to die than endure to have any rival; so easily is humane wit altered, when it is once ravished with its affections: seeing that he who before breathed forth nought else but virtue, now stung with the Serpent of amorous envy (for such was his (though unreasonable) being that he neither saw his favours participated, nor any person partakeable of them) he suffered himself to be guided with the false imagination of having a rival, till the day wherein he was cleared of that doubt, with no small amazement and grief of Eromena; who on the other side raved therefore, believing that his mind (surprised by some new thought) had fully alienated from her his affection. And so indeed seemed it to be, he wanting art to dissemble his passions; which concealed, though not disguised, deceived the judgement, that took the one for the other: so as if Eromena were therein mistaken, yet was she not to be therefore blamed, because Polimero an experienced youth, reasoned with himself on this business, as if she had been faulty, and as if her beauties and good parts ought not to have had the force of attracting other than him alone; in so much as he became fretful, and pettish, never beholding her but with troubled brows, manifest expressers of more troubled thoughts: whilst she that passionately loved him (knowing what little reckoning he made of his wounds) could by no means imagine what might be the cause of so sudden an alteration; whereof she conceived such a grief as pierced through her very soul. She therefore desirous to be resolved thereof, conducted him aside towards the trenches (under pretext of finding out a convenient place to assail the forts) where (after a short discourse of what might there be done, and seeing him possessed with his accustomed desire of combating) she said unto him,  
My Lord, I would not by any means, that the greatness of your courage should any way prejudice your health, I well perceive you much altered, sithence you left your bed, the reason whereof cannot possibly be, other than the feeling of yourself not well; which if it be so, I pray you let me know it, assuring you that I have a greater share than you believe in your sufferings: And I protest unto you, that if your wounds endanger you, by reason of a re-lapse (as some days sithence they did) I shall be therewith displeased, and shall judge it a displeasure done me by you. Polimero, who well understood what it was to be a sharer in his sufferings, and what signified the declaration of her displeasure; dying his cheeks with a fair vermilion, and become fully consolated, returned her this answer; I yield your highness' humble thanks, for vouchsafing to take care of my health; which (among many other your noble favours) manifests how deeply I am engaged unto you; and could I but fully assure your Highness of what is unknown unto you, I assure myself that your Highness would rest satisfied with my reverend gratitude. As for my hurts, your Highness needs not doubt of them, my wounds being now grown to a good pass; but if you see me malcontent, I think I have good cause so to be for to tell you the truth, it licks me not well, that any other come to rob us of the glory of this war; and had your Highness but given me leave when first I besought you for it, I assure myself that we had constrained Epicamedo either to return or die, ere any other came to deprive him of his army, and me of the honour of doing my obliged duty. Eromena by her acuteness of apprehension, soon conceived Polimero's drift, whereof she was very joyful, well knowing that jealousy in its limits, is a daughter of love: wherefore she said unto him; Let not (I pray you) what hath happened displease you, which shall (I assure you) be for your greater consolation and honour; the coming of any other shall neither deprive you of that honour which your valorous actions deserve, nor me of the obligation which I shall ever owe you therefore, more than to any Knight of the world, how great or worthy soever he be; whereof assure yourself, and live contentedly, if the being thereof assured have any power to make you such. Hereupon Polimero gently took her by the hand, which she liberally reached out unto him (& affectionately kissing it) remained the joyfullest man living: with great desire stood he expecting the signal of smoke, which the day following appearing, made the Sardans give an alarm, though few of them understood the meaning thereof; which Epicamedo seeing, knew not what to think, but perceiving them divided into three squadrons, and advancing forwards to come and assault his forts, he also caused for their defence, an alarm to be beaten. But Polimero, who was of opinion, that to assail the forts was lost labour, and that it would prove the better course to make on, & become masters of thetents, if they could (for the forts left alone unsuccoured, would afterwards fall of themselves) wheeled about a large compass; and then causing all his troop to alight, he assaulted the trenches on the rear parts thereof suddenly, and with such a fury, that he forced the guard thereof, and was himself the first man that entered, where leaving to make good the front a strong squadron of horsemen, though afoot, he with the rest remounted on horseback, beating down all he met; wherein he found no great difficulty, because there were no horse to withstand him (they being issued forth with the King together with the greatest part of the army to defend that part, where the assault was most likely to be given:) and so in less than an hour's space, became master of all the Tents.  
The Princess on the other side (as soon as by the cries she perceived the troops to be in a hot conflict) spurred on-wards; till (passing between Fort and Fort) followed by her force, she affronted Epicamedo, who making head with those few horses he had, not able to hold out long, was forced to retire himself, causing a squadron of pikes to set forwards in firm battell-array: By whom the Princess seeing herself opposed, caused hers to advance, who (after a small resistance) put the enemy to rout for want of horse. Then Eromena (disdaining to besmear her hands with the blood of the vulgar) went searching for Epicamedo, who having understood how the Tents were set upon, was run to their succour, leaving in his stead the marquis of Sagona: Whereupon she (having selected a troop of the choicest horse, and left the rest to the charge of the marquis of Oristagno) pursuing him eagerly, found that Polimero (after he had taken the Tents) was come forth to charge Epicamedo; who had with him but a small Battalion of horse, not amounting to six hundred; but all of them of the prime Nobility of Corsica, his greatest confidence being in his foot that failed him; for when they saw the Tents taken, the enemy victorious in the front, and now come to charge them in the flank (themselves being therewithal disordered, and the greatest part without any pikes for having burst them in the former encounter) grown quite heartless, they sought to save themselves by flight: so as being for their better way of escape divided, they were (for the most part) slain, whilst the King skirmifhing with Polimero, and hurt in the hand and flank, was forced to yield himself. Of the six hundred horse escaped but a few, who flying towards the Fleet with hope to save themselves, were met by those that were coming to bring news of its loss, and then being all scattered abroad some in in one place and some in another, they were by the Peasants robbed and killed.  
Polimero (having laid the King in sure hold) ran under the Forts, where the fight was yet maintained; but the Corpse's (not able to withstand any longer, nor having any place of retreat) throwing down their arms, yielded themselves, the greatest part of them being already slain in the first hot skirmish; and the Forts (after they had stood as spectators of the slaughter of their men, and imprisonment of their King) yielded themselves over into the mercy of the vanquishers. Thus were the Tents taken, the Forts rendered, assaulted, and won in less than two hours' space. And now Eromena, desirous to see what fortune had done with the Fleet at sea (leaving all the foot to repose themselves) taking along with her Polimero and two thousand horse, set herself on her way towards Terranova.  
Metancone used such diligence in this voyage, that (without help of any wind) he in one night's space compassed about all Capo Luogodori to Terranova, being little less than a hundred and twenty miles, where he found the Corpse's without suspicion, and had found them also buried in sleep, without either watch or ward, had not the Fleet as it passed by Capo di Sarda, been descried; he found them with arms in their hands, not because they made account to fight, but only to observe the terms of martial discipline: They took these Galleys to be their own, returning (as they thought) victorious, and the two over and besides the fifteen, to be prizes taken away from the enemy; the rather because the three lanterns were not borne by their Admiral; but when they descried the colours of Sardegna, and on the Royal those of Mauritania, they knew not what course to take: fly away they could not, because their ladders were ashore their hatches out of order, and some of them unfurnished with oars; so as being assaulted, there was more ado to kill than to conquer them; and such of them as escaped ashore, met with the Princess and were taken prisoners. Metaneone seeing the enterprise so well succeed, was very glad thereof, and longed for with impatience the long-wished for fruition of his brother's company, coming stealingly towards him, wished him to retire, for that he had descried many troops of horse, which could be no other than the enemies, seeing they came from that part of the field whereof they were Masters.  
Metaneone (thus surprised) knew not what to resolve of, thinking it a shame to retire, and a desperate danger to stay their coming; When the Vice-admiral said thus unto him, I cannot believe that these are enemies; or if they be, I am sure they have but a few horse, wherewith they can do us no great harm: howsoever as it is not fit we leave the Galleys unmanned, so is it not any discredit or dishonour for us to retire until we be better assured of the matter: let us therefore (if you please) retire every man to his charge. The Prince thereupon (seeing the Count de Bona of the selfsame opinion) made a fair retteite, causing the Archers to stand ready at the loopholes, and all the rest with their arms in hand. But no sooner appeared those horse in sight, than the Vice-admiral knew the Princess by her Banner, and Metaneone his brother by Flammauro. Being then sorry he had retired, he came ashore from the Galley, followed by the Count de Bona, and all the other Knights.  
The Princess and Polimero never lin galloping till they came to the haven: where the first man of all the fleet that Polimero knew, was the Count of Bona his governor, and then next his brother; whereat with a shrill voice he suddenly seritched out, Oh ye gods what is this I see? The Princess (seeing that something ailed him) asked him what was the matter? Nothing Madam (answered he) but that I cannot imagine what this Prince makes here. And whilst she was ask him what Prince that was (without getting any answer of Polimero, who remained as yet astonished) they were come to the place where he was. Eromena perceiving Metaneone coming to meet her, hearing him styled Prince, lighted off her horse, to whom Metaneone drew near to kiss her hand, which she not permitting, and he not persisting in his offer (as a courteous Knight should have done) but running (as if he had been besides himself) to Polimero, he straightly embraced him, saying, And will you (my sweet brother) be perpetually mindful of my foul fault? What, will you abjure nature, and for one discourteous brother's sake, abandon a loving father that tenders you so dear? Behold me here in token of repentance, desiring your pardon; I beseech you forgive me: Suffice it you, that the knowledge of an error is a sufficient punishment to a generous heart; if such you can but think mine to be, that haveso undeservedly offended you. But (my dearest best of brothers) do but consider how all things have their time; the wrongs are done and passed, the repentance is now present, and the penance shall be to serve you, now when my service is not acceptable unto you; which if it were or could be, I should esteem it a great honour unto me. These his words were accompanied with tears so lively, that (whilst he on the one side embraced him, and the Count of Bona on the other side kissed his hands, and wept over him like a child) the standers by were forced to bear them company in doing the same, though altogether ignorant of the mystery of their proceedings.  
Polimero at the first, knowing his brother and his disposition, could not choose but doubt of some evil intention; but afterwards seeing him come in such a fashion and speak unto him in such a manner, accompanied besides with the Count whom he well knew would not deceive him, striving to unhelme himself but could not (so transported was he with the overmuch haste he made, and of the strange commotion of his affections (having lifted up his beaver, he taking his brother's hand; would needs kiss it, with no less respective humility, and humble respectiveness, than he would have used towards his Royal father. But Metaneone more and more affectionately embracing him, and closing his face to the vizard, could not satiate himself in kissing him, not affording him leisure to speak a word, much less to answer. Carasio seeing what his Master would fain have done, helped him off with his helm; whereof Polimero being freed ran again to kiss his brother's hand, and he in the mean time with affectionate embraces, clasped him so closely, as it was impossible for him to speak a word, until at last, quite wearied with kissing and weeping, they were fain to defist. When Polimero after a short pauze turning towards his brother, said;  
My Lord, I know not how I have merited so much of the gods, as to be (for aught I see) received into your gracious favour; I will not flatter myself in believing that I deserve it, but believe rather that your goodness moved to pity my youth, hath been pleased to exceed all excess of courtesy, by receiving me in the degree of such a faithful servant as my duty binds to be, and of so obedient a brother as nature made me. I beseech you vouch safe to concede me only the first attribute, in your esteem, and that shall content me; so that your Highness would be pleased to accept in good worth the sincerity of my good will, excusing the weakness of my years, which have given your Highness' occasion to be displeased with me: but of my willingness to deserve your Highness' favour, let (I beseech you) my voluntary exile, and my choice of going unaccompanied (to avoid your Highness' displeasure) be an assured token: for the rest I submit myself to your good will and pleasure, being most ready to do whatsoever you shall please to command me.  
Metaneone, that had converted his former hatred into the most perfect affectionate and truest friendship that could possibly be found in any brother of the world, embracing him anew, said unto him; Oh peace, peace, my dear Polimero, it becomes not you to speak in this sort, for the witnesses that testify against me are without exception, and above all, my own conscience. I am not come with an intention to grant you pardon, but of purpose to beg and receive it from you, so that you then forgive me, I shall think I have obtained the greatest part of the happiness I wish to enjoy in this world.  
fain would they have exceeded, when the Count of Bona (interrupting them) said to the Prince; No more, (my Lord) no more. My Lord, the Insante Polimero cannot brook to see the person of your Highness so submissive; neither need you doubt that his good nature is any whit mindful of what is done and passed. Which said, he (taking again the hands of Polimero) kissed them with a fatherly affection.  
The Princess that stood all this while an amazed spectatresse, having (the mean while) caused her helm to be unlaced, said to Metaneone; (Worthy Prince) I beseech you give me leave to interrupt your joys, we can no longer forbear to know who you are, as well that we may thereby come to know what this Knight also is, (who having done as such notable service would never hitherunto oblige us with his name;) as also that we may honour you conformable to the merits both of your noble person, and of the favours you have done us; which said, she withdrew him aside from the rest, whilst Polimero went again to embrace the Count and to entertain the Mauritanian Cavaliers.  
Metaneone related orderly unto the Princess all that had passed between him and his brother, and how his father had charged him to bring him back again: which when the Princess heard, she thought her former joys but bitter now, that she understood her lover to be a Prince, waxing so pale thereat, that the apprehensive Prince observing it, said on; My charge was indeed not to return without him; but in respect I see what wars your Highness is like to have in your Kingdom, and withal for that (me thinks) I see that my brother hath been fortunate in your Highness' service, I will find a way to content my father without taking him hence.  
The Princess having by this time recovered her spirits, well perceived the acuteness of the Prince his apprehension, which though it made her blush, yet was she not thereat displeased; but entertained him with all such gentle terms, as best became a courteous Lady to use towards a deserving Prince; hoping to find him a co-adjutor and furtherer of her desires: And then turning towards Polimero; Is it thus (said she) that you deal with yourfriends; My Lord Infante Polimero; in not suffering yourself to be known, thereby to load me with shame for not having honoured you conformable to your birth and quality? Whereto he (all joyful) made answer, (Right excellent Princess;) Too too much have I been honoured by your Highness, I would it pleased the gods, that you thought me worthy but of some part thereof. Whereupon she taking him by the hand, (and joying together for the arrival of the Prince his brother) wrung it amorously, and he again affectionately kissed hers, to his exceeding great content.  
The Princess, afterwards and all the rest, when they understood the manner of taking both the Fleets, went to renew their compliments with Metaneone, confessing the war to be brought to an end by the valour of these two brothers.  
The End of the Third Book.   

CAVALIER GIO: FRANCISCO BIONDI HIS EROMENA  
The Fourth Book.  
THat evening tarried the Princess (somewhat incommodated) in Terranova, whence she advertized the marquis of Oristagno how the Fleet was taken; (and in regard her coming thither was unexpected, and her necessary provision as then not arrived from the Camp,) Metaneone persuaded her to sup with him in his Galley, which he caused to launch out of the haven with the sweet consort of his trumpets, at the pleasing harmony whereof, the Ghing rowed so mainly, as they made her in less than an hour's space outstrip her fellow Galleys (which were the Vice-admiral with three others of the choicest of the whole Fleet) leaving them (to the wonder of every one) above three miles' a-poope of her. Much ado had the Princess to satiate her eyes in beholding the rare beauty of the Vessel, with the rich curiosity of her hangings and furniture, which far exceeded those of many royal Palaces.  
It was now Summer-season, and the calme-sea was from the shore-ward courted with a gentle breath of air, whilst the sea-strond and winding creeks of the Island, afforded the eye a spacious and delightsome prospect. The Princess (in the mean while) was served with such exquisite diversity of banquets, as that she seemed to be in a dream; so strangely was she amazed in observing the abundant quantity, and rare quality thereof, together with the richness of the plate, and order of service in a Galley at sea. And to the Sardans the wine (above any thing else) seemed excellent, who now perceived themselves deceived in the opinion, they till then held, that their white-wines were the best and richest of the Universe.  
The prince had for his pleasure divers kinds of strange creatures, which Africa is continually and daily accustomed to produce; wherewith the Princess was exceedingly delighted, because they being ta'en, were very gentle and tractable, and every one in his kind manifested by his gesture the diversity of his temperature, wherein Nature discovereth the treasures of her providence.  
It grew towards night, when intending to return, they descried (not very far off them) something that floated on the sea; which such as at first took it for a fish, perceived it to be none, for that it dived not but stood still, without turning, either for the noise of the oars, or voice of men. The Princess, who (taking pleasure to look all about) was the first that saw it, would needs know what it might be, and therefore causing to row gently towards it, ere they came to touch it with their oars, she perceived it was a woman, who fasthanding a little plank, floated on the sea. The Frigate (which stood near the Royal, and that for swiftness was not her inferior) went to fetch her aboard, where they found, for subject to their consideration, an exquisite bcautie that in her they saw, with the evident symptoms of a miserable fortune; pale was she, and lean, hare-footed, and barelegged, with her feet sorely bruised, and full of gags and scars. 'Mongst these so rueful conditions, there shined in her face a royal Majesty, and in her dying eyes a pity, able to cause to moan the very Tigers themselves. There covered her snow-white body (which by her alabaster legs and ivory arms, might easily be judged to be such) a course gown of ships russet freeze, made carelessly without any order, just like one of those, wherewith statues are sometimes wont to be covered withal: hardly could they make her let go her hold of the plank, because, when danger, travel and fasting had bereft her of her understanding; then nature, which in such occasions fails not, had forced her vital spirits into her hands and fingers; so as now freed from peril, and not comprehending it, she continued her holdfast without slacking it any thing, following altogether the instinct that governed her, being not able to follow reason, which she wanted, because she wanted the more ignoble part, which was the sense. There was none so flinty-hearted, as not to pity so compassionable a spectacle; but far above all the Princess, who having caused her to be laid on a bed, was careful to see her dried by her trusty damsel Aretia. Who not like a waiting woman, but like a diligent Squire followed her Lady without ever abandoning her for fear of any danger how perilous soever; she dried, rubbed and chafed her, so as her revoked spirits returned by little and little to their proper residences, to the astonishment of the miserable weak one; who seeing herself in such a place, knew not what to imagine; she peered steadfastly on the two standers by, her mouth she opened, but spoke never a word; in being silent she spoke, and yet in speaking she uttered never a syllable, tormented with agitations of mind, the more grievous, for that the body oppressed with long sufferings, lay as if it had been deprived both of life and senses. The first things that came to life in her were sighs and sobs; and next tears, which being not sufficient to exhale and evaporate the heaviness of her heart, would fain be accompanied with a kind of a voice not shrieking or displeasing, but moaning and wailful, able to move the very stones to pity. The Princess (who with her damsel were all that were of her sex among all that company) would needs be a sole co-adjutor in this charitable office, having for modesty's sake excluded all the rest; and calling for some cordials and restoratives, gave them her with her own hand, comforting her, entreating her, and courteously compelling her to take them; because no one means alone was sufficient to persuade her, neither had altogether prevailed with her, but that fixing her eyes on the royal she-warrier, she became astonished at her beauty and behaviour, which persuaded, and (as it were) constrained her to obey her; little are she, when having recovered a little vigour, she turning towards the Princess, with a feeble voice scarce audible, said thus unto her;  
I know not (fair one) what you may be, whether a woman or a goddess, if a goddess, then know you well that pity is ill bestowed on me, and that it were true commiseration not to give, but to take away the feeling of my griefs: but if a woman, let me then tell you, that the having used it to me-wards, hath been a cruelty, as in me nature itself was more cruel in procuring my escape, and I most cruel against myself for following her instincts; which said, she (become clay-cold) remained in such a plight, that for a good while she seemed to be rather dead than alive.  
The Princess, who by her speeches (which ofttimes are express signs of inward conceits) conceived to be in this woman some (of I know not what) kind of worth and singularity, having called for vinegar and odoriferous waters, ceased not to use her uttermost endeavour with affectionate care to revive her again, which quickly succeeded as she desired; and seeing her come again to herself, though little better in the rest of her organs and members, only she strove to get up to come to kiss her hands; the courteous Princess (holding her down, and incessantly besprinkling her with those waters) spoke thus unto her;  
Alack (good soul) Leave off I pray you all other thoughts, but such as concern yourself, courtesies in you are now out of season, neither is there any one here that looks for any such, which though there were, yet might such be well satisfied with your willingness, which in you appears not otherwise resisting than against yourself and your own good. Be comforted, I pray you, and resolve with yourself to live; for albeit your afflictions be great (as I imagine them to be by the condition wherein I found you;) nevertheless ought you by all means be consolated; good and evil stand not always in the same limits; that evil is only deplorable that is altogether remediless, and in such a case necessity should comfort us; fortune (Sister) is unstable, and her wheel voluble, so as we ought the rather presume to look for good, being in an ill case, than on the contrary; for as good cannot attain to excess, so can it not be either long or stable; and the excess of evils, as it is easily encountered, so is it also as easily diverted, it being a sting that so long lasts, as the malign aspects endure, which as they increase in their excess, so decrease they in their recess, and with its mutation change themselves into a better aspect. The sick woman, who with great attention had listened unto her (fetching a deep sigh) returned her this answer.  
Alas (Valorous Lady) what doleful consolations are these for me; grounded on a foundation as sandy as are constellations. But, if what you infer, be true; What then (I pray you) is the reason, that few are the fortunate, and innumerable the unfortunate in the world, who withal ever remain such? Or if they assay mutation, yet is it not substantial, but only somewhat extenuated from more to less. How many are there that live in continual poverty? How many in perpetual imprisonment? How many are there that are miserable in all kind of misery, whom (in regard of the infiniteness of the number) I need not specify? And yet in them may be discerned many accesses and fits of evil, but never a period of any, for they never feel its recess, although the heavens go round to them as well as to others, neither go the stars slower for these than for those. And as touching what you say of good and prosperity, It is true, that there is nothing more slippery and flickering, nay such is it of its own nature, as it cannot make itself enjoyable; the passions of the mind make it less delightsome and imperfect, especially being accompanied (as it ever is) with cares and fears, whereby it doth not only lessen, but grows not to be what it is taken to be; where (on the contrary) the desire to continue or rather to go onwards in prosperity, augments our discontents; which infused into us by the imagination, spring up successively like ill weeds in a good foil, without either tillage or seed, thriving the better in the more tempestuous weather, and becoming perpetual from season to season, bountifully repaying the earth an hundred for one, manifesting thereby its being far more liberal than just, and a better friend to itself than to other men's labours.  
The Princess astonished at her discourse, would feign egg her on a little further, for the better discovering among obscurities so palpable, the clearness of an elevated capacity; wherefore she said unto her; The cause (sister mine) of our error in believing that evil hath a greater stroke over us than good, proceeds from our own passions, as you yourself have confesessed; though in respect of themselves they be of equal weight. The palate is more digested with the bitter than pleased with the sweet, though of its proper nature it love and affect the latter; the reason is, because our senses make us more sensible of ill than good, which if we consider rightly, we shall have no reason to complain of nature, which made not contraries with proportion more contrary in the one than in the other. The black is no more black, than the white is white; albeit the one is discerned better than the other, not for any defect of contrariety, but by reason of the quality of the eye, that is more inclined to receive the impression of the one than of the other; the Sun (likewise) which for his brightness should be more apt to be seen, is nevertheless (for a like reason) less seen. If then it be so (as most assured it is) Why then comfort you not yourself now that you are certain of having passed the period of your evils, by the escaping of death, the extremest point of all misery? So as necessarily your misfortune declining, it's malignity in the recess prepares for you in his change argument of consolation, and seeing that changes are no other than mutation of qualities, you ought to suppose that it must needs be from bad to good.  
Alas Madame, (answered the woman weeping) consider I pray you that reason and sense cannot be weighed with equal weights, because reason is either so fleeting, as she will not suffer us easily to lay hold on her, or else light and wavering, if she chance to be form by use or opinion. But the sense being weighty and of certain consistence, remains active, and deceives not, unless itself be beguiled by some alteration: well said you, that so should I do, for indeed so would I fain do; but first make you these scales even (if you can) by giving me either so much reason as sense, or else no more sense than reason, and then will I both obey you, and comfort myself. But (woe is me) it is their irreconcilable disparity that makes my miserable estate inconsolable in that the practice of the Theoric is in them too too different; the one being more easy to an eloquent tongue, than the other to the stoutest heart, when it shall have occasion to put it in practice. Now as touching the excess and period of my evils; know (most noble Lady) that if men could content themselves with food only, as do the wild beasts, than might the argument be good; for you (of your commiseration) having freed me from death, which was the period of evil; (me thinks) reason tells me, that I am now in its recess, for that the way of life is opened unto me: but too too miserable is our condition to be contented to live only, and to live to ourselves alone; there is none but knows that we must live for others also, neither say I only as he, who held that we are borne to our Country and friends, but I hereto add that we are likewise borne to our own affections, and among them above all to honour, which subsisting of an unknown and delicate element, receives its influence from the course of the more delicate spheres, which conjoined to these materials, are in the point of their period divers in quality, even as mine are; so as the recess of ill in the one is the recess of honour in the other: How then can one live in the recess of ill, with the hope of the access of good, when the recess of honour engenders the access of infamy, that stands in the opposite point? But to speak with your own principles, you (Madame) well know, that it is not one sole aspect that makes us become miserable, but our meeting afterwards with other new aspects in the way of theirprog ressions; & the being of the malign stars (which the learned call the Infortunate) of superior situation, and by consequence heavier and slower, which being in some sort intricated with the fixed, that are slowest of all, are never more disinveloped, but accompany our few days with infinite evils; which being limited by death, and deprived of all power of hurting us in a life freed from their fetters, pursue us nevertheelesse to our very graves, with an abominable and ignominious fame; which i say not because I believe it to be so indeed, but because that who so gives those principles credit will be induced to believe no otherwise. And I (for my part) cannot choose but subscribe to the opinion of such as believe, that the fates and constellations are no other thing than the providence of the gods, whereunto if I now trusted not more than I do to the celestial figures, I should utterly despair.  
The Princess (observing her to speak with much pain and great perplexiti of mind) thought it not good to trouble her any further, albeit she much desired to know both her, and the original of her misfortunes, the rather because she well discerned in her ordinary signs of no ordinary person; leaving therefore Aretia to accompany her, she returned to the Princes, to whom she related what discourse she had with her, expressing herself to be gladder of this prize than of that of both the Fleets. They lodged themselves in Terranova as well as they could, where the sick woman was carefully looked unto, and lodged as commodiously as the straightness of the place would permit, who by means, either of the Physicians, or of comfortable repose recovered together with her strength, her before exiled beauty.  
Whilst the Princess continued with the weak woman, the two brothers had time to confer together, where Metaneone informed his brother of all that past between him and his father, and how he was by him sent to find him out, whom therefore he once intended to have conducted homewards; but perceiving (as he thought) in that Princess probable signs of an excessive love towards him, and considering withal how the tie of honour straightly obliged him to defer his departure thence, till the wars were ended, he knew not what course he were best to resolve of; howbeit he held his own return necessary, because he was to entreat his father to demand for him a wife (and there related he unto his brother all the story of Eromilia) yet knew he not well how he could go home without him. And that on the other side in procuring him to return with him, he should do very ill, for that he might thereby mar his fortune, and hinder his advancement, which he ought rather by all means to further and procure, not only for the gaining him such and so great a Princess, but also for that when himself had obtained Eromilia, they might between them make (as it were) but one state of Mauritania, Sardegna and Maiorica, and so become awed of all their bordering neighbours.  
Here the Count of Bona (perceiving the Princess coming) interrupted their discourse; and as soon as they came ashore, counselled them both to abide in Sardegna, undertaking to be himself the Ambassador of their commissions, not doubting but that the King would be for that time contented to know that they loved one another; of whom he promised them to procure for the Prince an Embassage for Maiorica, and for the Infante troops of aid for Sardegna, wherewith he might (for the furtherance of his marriage with Eromena) conquer the kingdom of Corsica, who also (now that he was known for a Prince) should in the mean time endeavour to bring his loves to a determined end. Of this proposition the Prince liked well, desiring it might be suddenly put in execution; whereupon both of them wrote to their father conformably, as well of the friendship confirmed between them, as also of the reasons that constrained them to stay sometime in Sardegna, and withal of the need they had of being favoured by his Majesty, in what should by the Count of Bona (to whom they wholly referred themselves) be manifested unto him more at large: to the same effect wrote they likewise to their mother, sisters, and brothers; telling afterwards the Princess, that they, being resolved to serve her in those wars, thought good to acquaint therewith the King their father, to the end that he might not grieve, in that he saw them not return homewards; whither they meant to send for that end the Count of Bona, whom they besought her Highness to honour with some command of hers, if such an occasion might any way prove serviceable unto her; for which the Princess kindly thanked them, telling them withal that she herself would also write to the King, being bound to thank him for the favours she had at their hands received, which accordingly she did with as lively a gratitude as by paper and ink could be expressed.  
The Count went speedily aboard the Royal, and in two days he arrived in Tunis. The King seeing him come wihtout the Princes, became thereat strangely amazed, but had no sooner understood the occasion of their stay, and perused their letters, than he was therewith fully satisfied, and exceedingly comforted. Those two businesses were proposed to the King's Council, where the Count of Bona showed the utility of matching the Prince in Maiorica to be so evident (especially comprehending the other of Sardagna of him held for assured) that no man opposed the conclusion thereof; yet stirred he not from Tunis till such time as there were eight thousand foot, and two thousand horse ready levied for Polimero. And for Metaneone, it was the King's pleasure, that the same Count (as soon as he had disembarked his forces) should go treat of the match with Maiorica, giving him for adjutants three of his fellow-peeres, to the end that the embassage might be the more solemnly performed.  
Eromena in the mean while, lived now at her own hearts sweet content, having not only fortunately vanquished her enemies, and ended so dangerous a war, but come also to know Polimero for the son of so great a King, as his condition could not give the people any occasion of murmuring, and therefore meant she (as soon as the state were well appeased and fully settled) without any further delay to return to Caleri & marry him; from which although the death of her brother (as yet fresh in her memory) did in some sort dissuade her; nevertheless when she considered with herself how incapable of government her father was, she was persuaded that the world would commend her, for making choice of a Prince of such exquisite conditions and known valour; the only obstacle indeed was his somewhat too green youth, for which she doubted some would grumble at her, the rather because the dise quality of years (she being at least by six years his elder) made the difficulty the greater; but love (suppressing all such considerations) made all these scores even: so as she (having sent for Polimero) told him that she had not as yet rejoiced with him, according unto her mind; for having obtained her so long wished for desire of knowing him, nor expressed (as she ought) how sorry she was, that he had not made himself known unto her sooner. But he on the other side endeavoured to excuse himself with many reasons, among which some were, that he being desirous to become worthy of her favours, thought it expedient to obtain his intention therein, rather by real feats of arms, than by bare merit of blood, being a condition he was sure could never fail him; that he was bound to thank the heavens, in that he saw till then all things succeed well, save only one which he as yet wanted; and as she thought to ask him what that might be; It is a thing (said he) that I cannot express unto you in words; but if your Highness would vouchsafe but to look into my heart, you might there see it protraied, which you shall there no sooner see than know it to be no other thing, than an ardent desire of being your servant till death: which as he said, his speech failed him, as he would have pronounced the last accents. Now Metaneone (knowing his youth too tender for the managing of a business of that nature and importance) had before hand lessoned him what he should say, wherein he following his instructions, thought himself afterwards to have made more ample manifestation of his courage, than if he had fought alone against all the world.  
Eromena, being glad he had thus begun to break the ice, returned him this answer; My Princely Lord, I understand not well what you would say, being that you are too great a Prince for my service, for well see you how I am served by no other than simple Knights; and the services I have received of you, are indeed no services but favours, which rather bind me to be your servant, for the obligations I therefore owe you; and for me to look into your heart, alas, how can I possibly do it without your prejudice, which I would not do, although it were to save my own life. It is true, that a Painter might in your heart's portraiture place my Picture, and so might I by that means come to see it without harming you: do but tell me then (I pray you) how was it that he did it, and who he is, and I will be his scholar.  
Polimero, waxen by this time somewhat bolder, replied; Right excellent Lady, your Highness ought not refuse my service, because I am a Prince, but should accept of me the rather for being such an one; and for the Painter you need seek no further than your Royal self, because your Highness is both the Painter, and Portraiture; who if you had the power and skill to portray yourself in my breast, may more easily behold there the excellency of your Pencil, which is so far from harming me, as it is the only restorative that can prolong my life.  
Here as he would have spoken further, his speech failed him, so as waxed more vermilion than the freshest rose, and kneeling on the ground he affectionately kissed her hands, which she withdrew not, but was well content to suffer his warm breath to satiate itself with that (to him) more than an Ambrosian banquet: Well (said she) my Lord Polimero, what if I should see myself in your heart, could you then find in your heart to see yourself in mine? Whereto he (without letting her hands go) replied. But how dare I (peerless Lady) without infinite presumption deem myself such a Painter, as to place my unworthy picture in so worthy a Tabler, wherein if I were favoured with one sole thought of yours, I should think myself the happiest knight that ever was borne a mortal? You are (said she) indeed no Painter, nor have I any picture of you, or your making; yet well know I you for a perfect sculptor, for here have you carved your lively statue, breathing as you see it; which said, she (holding before him a lookingglass) proceeded, Whether of us now is the best Artificer? ay, that only placed in you my lifeless Picture; or you that have graven and carved in me your sculpture with its complete parts and lineaments, accompanied with all the lively organs and living powers of the intellect? If so it be (answered the overjoyed Polimero,) I ask then no other boon of the immortal gods; but having never known myself for such a one a could accomplish so notable a piece of workmanship, for which I shall be all my life's time obliged to myself, I am constrained (because the word of so great a Princess, cannot fully satisfy my belief herein) to beseech your Highness to favour me with some authentic assurance, by whose virtue this statue may abide in this place, secured by an irrevocable title, conformable to the laws of the world, as I assure myself it is already according to the laws of love.  
The Princess hereat passionately inflamed, leaving him nevertheless in his kneeling posture, and taking him with her arms gently about the neck, thus replied; (My dear Lord) to the end you may be fully assured, that I will be yours according to the rites of the world, as I am already yours by the power of love, for irrevocable assurance of the one and the other, I give you this earnest: and with that (kissing him) spoke on; Now see whether such an assurance can by one of my quality be ever either revoked or denied. Whereupon he drawn on with so sweet a bait, would fain become somewhat bolder, but wanted the boldness to venture, so checked was his forwardness with the curb of bashfulness, till afterwards his being assured increased his courage in so modest a way, that holding on a mean path between excess and defect, he needed not any more, either bit or spur. The combat was of kisses, wherein fortune showed herself indifferent, there being no one kiss lent, that was not as amorously repaied; till at length for fear of being discovered, though neither weary nor satiated, they sat them down, where (banishing all coyness and love-hating respects) now and then reciprocally interchanging sweet embraces, they recounted each to other their intended designs. Eromena well approving of his sending to Mauritania for fresh troops, together with his design of Corsica, whereon her mind (distracted with amorous thoughts) near fastened, and now thought she it fit, that he under went that enterprise, that so that kirgdome being by him incorporated to the kingdom of Sardegna, might make their nuptials more approvable and better liked of, he having no other thing to endow her withal. Upon this she would needs the day following, have her Council summoned to sit, whereunto, having invited the two Princes, she proposed the state of the war to be considered in its future limits.  
The proposition was, whether it were their best course (now they had the Corsan king prisoner) to hold the enterprise as accomplished, and so licence their soldiers or no? and if no, then to resolve of what they were best to do? Some held it fitting that the wars should so rest determined; others were on the other side of a contrary opinion. Whereupon Metaneone being requested to deliver his opinion, excused himself by alleging that being but so lately arrived there, he was unacquainted both with the country, and interesses thereof, and therefore referred himself unto his brother, who (having served the state) could not choose but have a more exact knowledge of its condition. Polimero, being thereunto earnestly importuned, at last delivered himself in this sort.  
If State-affairs (Sovereign Princess) carried with them no other consideration than that of the present, I should hold for vain any other opinion, than that of peace, and should think the best course were to lay arms aside, and enjoy the fruit of conquest achieved by the valour our arm of your Highness, but considering them not as the short days of men, but according to their lasting perpetuity, a prudent Prince ought to square out, and settle his government in such a manner as the same may last, not for his life only, but even as long as the world can endure; It is true, your Highness hath already freed this kingdom from the cruelest Rebellion that ever was raised against any Prince, and withal taken prisoner that King, who (to become Tyrant here) so inhumanely nourished it; but this can suffice but for the present, what should follow is to prevent future dangers, which cannot be otherwise effected than by measuring the Kingdom of Corsica with the same measure wherewith its King would have measured this of Sardegna; the former being so near a borderer to the latter, as they almost join, and by the ill which that hath, and would have done: to this may be comprehended the danger of the evil it may do hereafter; I grant that your Highness hath for this once been so fortunate as to suppress him; yet is not Sardegna sure to have always the same conduct, prowess and fortune. The good husbandman believes not, he hath sufficiently rid his land of noisome weeds, by cropping their leaves only, unless he also pluck them up by the roots, ere they fall to seed anew. So should your Highness also advane your victorious banners in the kingdom of Corsica, which once subdued, you may unite to this crown, which until you do, the wars may well be ended in opinion, but never in effect; for Corsica having now lost its King may choose itself another, and so either of itself, or by the help of other Princes make perpetual incursions into this Kingdom, which that they will attempt, I am the rather induced to believe, because the humour of those people is naturally revengeful, especially now that there is not a house among them that hath not felt heavy losses by this war, and the fugitive Rebels, nestling themselves in the Bastilica, may thence get themselves easily settled in their ancient patrimcnies, their treason and offence not sufficing to make them so odious as not to find some favourers of their actions among those they have commanded and swayed over these four hundred years: and Corsica being a poor country, the inhabitants thereof for being needy will come shift for their living to Sardegna, where under the pretext of foragers they will maintain a war so lasting, as no valour shall be able to destroy them, so well fortified will they be found by the advantage of hills, and strongly barricadoed by the strength of woods, as there will be somewhat to do to dined them out, but much more to come to fight with them. But if your Highness would be pleased to resolve of the contrary, you shall avoid all these inconveniences, neither shall you find any considerable opposition, for that you shall invade a kingdom, that owns neither King, Captain, nor soldiers, and shall withal find it deprived (for aught I believe) of Galleys, arms and Council, now that all the best of them lie slain in these wars. And though foreign Princes would endeavour to succour it, yet should they find it lost and won ere they came, so as such an enterprise cannot indeed any way redound to their good, or honour, who have neither interest nor reason to succour such as cannot but be utterly forlorn. Now some one may object, thatto suppose that no neighbouring Princes can lay any claim thereto, is false. Well, I grant it, but let us (I pray them) argue who such may be, for I see but only five that may justly be reckoned in this number; three whereof also I will immediately exclude. The first shall be the King my father, I will not say for my sake, for that every one will scarce believe, seeing that Princes square out their actions by the rule of their own ends, but becase he never aimed at the command of the sea, neither can the greatness of Sardegna breed in him any jealousy; considering that look what difficulties stranger Princes shall have in enjoying it, the self same difficulty shall she have also in possessing the Dominions of others, especially in the firm land: for the same reasons, I exclude for the second man the Etrurian King; though not the King of Maiorica, who is the third; but because his forces are not such as need be feared; there remain yet the King of Sicily and Ligurie: this last may not do it, because the Tuscan King his neighbour will not suffer him to overgrow him in greatness, so as if he should strive to possess some others territories, the other would not let slip the occasion of seizing on his. And if the Sicilian King do but as much as aim thereat, he must necessarily make enemies of the Mauritanian, Ligurian, and Etrurian Kings, besides such others as command the other side the Faro, if he but offer to join new kingdoms to his own, who (besides his being rich and potent) is sufficiently well seated to put all the rest in a jealousy of him. But let it be granted that any of them (excepting the King my father, for whom I offer myself an hostage) would be easily tempted to take up arms, yet let any such whosoever he be but balance, the certain charge, that must be necessarily disbursed, with the uncertain benefit, that may perhaps be reaped therefrom, and he shall see that as it cannot be compassed with a few men, so the transportation of great forces, will require great Fleets, which cannot be rigged under a great deal of time, which though they could suddenly provide, yet shall they meet with many other difficulties in being (for want of convenient havens) compelled in the selfsame time, to fight against the wind, sea and us. I omit the consideration of what the blindest see, which is, That Sardegna shall be rid of its bad neighbours, and shall by commanding in stead of awing them, become glorious and dreaded of all such as would either harm or infest it; I overpasse also such consequences as might be deduced from the augmentation of forces, territories and revenues, considering the commodiousness of its situation. Other considerable difficulties I believe there are none, whereof though there were, yet can I not think them to be such as may be paragonized with the different state of these two kingdoms, besides no difficulties should ever hinder the performance of necessary resolutions. But now because it is no policy to credit the Counsel of such as share not of the perils that may chance to spring from the root of such advice, I here porferre your Highness to participate thereof, not only with my person, but also with such troops as shall be thought requisite for that employment, which I hope to obtain of the King my father, and of the Prince my brother here present, so your Highness will but vouchsafe to accept of them.  
The Princess, that with great pleasure had all this while listened unto him, kindly thanked him for his proffer, as though it had been a thing strange unto her. And because she well perceived that the matter when it came to be resolved of among the Council, would not prove so plain, but that it might meet with some oppositions, by reason of such jealousies as might arise from the proffer, therefore gave she order that they should among themselves treace thereof.  
The marquis of Oristagno, who ever since Polimero was known for a Prince, began to guess at the cause of his coming to Sardegna, as he had also before that taken notice of the inclination of the Princess, deeming that love of hers to be well employed, since that (if she married at all, she could not make choice of either a fitter or worthier husband) resolved to set forwards, and bring to head that business, being well assured the should thereby both please the Princess, and do the state good service; therefore opposed he openly such as held the Infante of Mauritania's propsition dangerous (inferring for an example the Trojan horse for a caveat to fear and mistrust both the gift and giver.) His reasons were, that it was not to be doubted, that he who so had begun to merit, would not continue so to do, aswell for desire of glory, as for hope of reward, he being the last of the sons of Mauritania, and therefore without means: that in case he harboured any evil intention, his forces could not stead him much, for that theirs would be more than thrice so many; and that sithence they might without loss of their own men gain themselves a kingdom (to them so commodious and necessary) he held it a great folly to refuse it. Many other things touched he by the way, whereby the most acute smelled out his drift, wherewith they were so far from being displeased, as all of them without any opposition, willingly concurred in the selfsame opinion. Whereof the Princess was a glad woman, who having therewith acquainted Polimero, caused both him and his brother, to be called in to the Council, as though she had told him nothing thereof; where (having extolled his noble exploits in the wars, taking occasion to fall in speech of his last proffer) she told him; That although the Council was somewhat loath to make use of the kingdom of Mauritania, yet notwithstanding, that in respect of the known good correspondency ever held between that and the Sardegnan crown, it had now resolved to accept of the troops by him offered, to the end that he might with them and those of Sardegna proceed in his Corsan enterprise, as he had proposed. Then turning her self towards Metaneone (when she had made a great Encomio on the Fleet, won her by his means) she confessed, that the King her father, herself, and the whole kingdom, were exceedingly obliged to the one, and the other; for which all of them together would be ready at all occasions to serve them, the King their father, and kingdom: whereunto the brothers having answered each for himself, gave in courteous terms such assurance of their good intentions, there was not any that doubted of their sincerity.  
The Princess had already posted a Currier to advertise the King her father of the victories; and now determined she to send him the Counsels resolution, and withal the King Epicamedo with the other prisoners; much had he desired to see the Princess, whereto she would by no means condescend, pretending to detain him not as a prisoner of war, but as a Traitor, guilty of injured Majesty, because her brother's murderers had never attempted to take away his life, had they not been backed by him; so as he indeed was the author of that murder, those wars, and all other ills that thence proceeded.  
Many days stayed the Princess in Terranova, expecting the coming of the rest of the army from Villapetres, to march thence onwards to the next country of Luogodori, which lies in the utmost point of Sardegna in the sight of Corsica, to the end she might assure herself of those countries formerly possessed by the Rebels, and might also thence with more conveniency (at the arrival thither of the Mauritanian troops) transport them over into Corsica  
Aretia in the mean time had used all possible diligence to restore to her former being, the weak woman, whom they had saved from the merciless sea, which for her bodily plight was not very difficult, but for the state of her mind, seemed a thing impossible, in that she found her weaker every day than other, and (as it were) repenting that she died not. The Princess now disentangled of public affairs, and desirous to know who she was, went in person to visit her, who having by this time understood that this was the famous Princess Eromena, received her with profound humility, by the Physician's direction she kept as yet her bed, though much against her will; where the Princess, sitting down by her, joyed much to see her a living woman, hoping that as she had already gotten this point, so she might in time also come to gain the other, which was to bring her to some degrees of comfort by entertaining her with mirth and pleasant company: wherein she was nevertheless very much deceived, because a refined melancholy, having first been an infirmity of the mind, and then come to be a bodily disease, and so grown to be a residence of different substance is wont to prove (for the most part) mortal and incurable. I had come sooner unto you (said the Princess) but that I thought good to give you first time to recollect your spirits, and yet wot I not well how I ought to entertain you, because the outward expressions of your fortune show you to be otherwise than your proper conditions discover you to be. I beseech you to clear me of that doubt, assuring you on the faith of a noble maiden, that the curiosity to know it, tends to no other end than to assist you, which I will do without sparing any thing I have. Here is no body present but Aretia, for whose secrecy I undertake as for myself.  
The woman (standing awhile in a muse, without making any answer) fetching at length a deep sigh, not without tears, said unto her;  
Royal Princess, your requests are commands to me; and although to satisfy your Highness therein, be but as it were to draw fresh blood out of green wounds, and to fester an old long sithence inulcerated sore, yet can I for all that do no less than obey you.  
My name is Eleina, my Nation, the Narbon Gaul, my Country, Arelate; where my father is he that bears both Crown and Sceptre. My mother was the daughter of the Celtan King; know her did I never, because she (presaging my misfortunes) lest she should see so unhappy a burden, died in childbirth of me. With such acquaint tenderness was I bred up, as children of my birth and quality are wont to be, but much more fond; for being the only child of my father, who (although a Widower at four and twenty years of age) would never condescend to marry again, for all that his subjects earnestly besought him thereto, so much overswayed him, the exceeding great love he bore to my mother, for whose sake he also tendered me the dearer; for the fuller expression whereof, he grew more obstinate in his intended resolution, so as I was esteemed and honoured of the world, as undoubted heir of that Kingdom. My childhood spent I in many noble disciplines; for being borne to a Crown, I was educated not as a woman, but as a Sovereign Prince: and withal to make my present state more fully miserable with the memory of passed glories, the Knights errant deemed themselves not worthy of the seeking adventures, ere they had first had the adventure of seeing me, which came to pass, either because things a far off had a greater privilege of opinion, than things more at hand; or because there was in me some esteem-worthy thing which I knew not myself; suffice it, that such was the effect, whether the cause deserved it or no. Being arrived to sixteen years of age, such was my misfortune, that there came to Arelate as a Knight errant, the son of the King of Catalogna, whose name was Don Peplasos. This Prince making a show of being enamoured of me, speak, and wrought so far, as I (drawn on rather by my destiny, than by any love I bore him) persuaded my father to give me him for wife; which he did, (being not used to contradict me) though sore against his will, and with the tears in his eyes protesting he did it merely to satisfy me, himself for his own particular, liking not well of such hasty weddings, and much less of the bridegrooute. But I, overtired with the great number of Suitors, without knowing which of them to choose, (detained in this ignorance by the tenderness of age, but much more by my simplicity in not knowing what manner of thing love was, wearied with the trouble of being so wooed, and foolishly curious to see myself a wife) made choice of him, to verify that old Proverb, Women ever choose the worst. With him lived I seven years without bearing children, which seen by my father's subjects, who would by no means be commanded by the Catalonian nation (abhorred by them by a natural antipathy) and much less by him, whom for his bad usage to me-wards, they hated more than death itself, they earnestly besought my father to marry, so that at last he, won by their importunities, but much more by my letters, took to wife a fair and virtuous Princess, the King of Aquitain's daughter, who; bare him the very first year a male-child, which as much contented the people, as it madded and discontented my husband, who seeing himself deprived both of that kingdom, and also of any hope of having by me any children, determined to avenge the one, and remedy the other, by doing away my person.  
It fell out in the mean time, that fame extolling abroad the two neighbouring beauties, which were yours, and that of Eromilia, (Princess of Maiorica) he (being the vainest man living) not knowing which of both to choose, was much tormented in mind, for being indifferently enamoured, as well of the one as of the other; but considering yours, without possessions and dominions (the principal object of his love) during the life time of your brother, that only mirror of Princes, and withal fearing you for the fame of your valour, which would not (as he thought) willingly brook ill usage, he bent his inclination towards the Princess of Maiorica, from whom he withdrew it again, when he understood of her being promised to your brother, which occasioned not the taking away of my misfortunes, but the differing of them for my greater evil.  
Now Don Peplasos loved a gentle Knight, if he may be said to love, to whom nature gave no inclination to love other than himself, besides the being of his nature, disposition, and conditions, so far alienated from those of Don Eleimo (for so was the Knight named) that it seemed impossible to form thereof a true friendship; but as every rule is wont to have, (so hath this also) its exception, at least on the behalf of the Prince, who being presumptuous, and so far deceived in himself as to repute his own vices to be virtues, easily believed, that Don Eleimo (a virtuous Cavalier) took them for such indeed; to him therefore discovered he his inhuman designs: but he (which well knew his nature) although he durst not contradict him, yet was he so moved by the instinct of his own virtue, as he could do no less than advertise me thereof. And because either to speak or write to me might prove dangerous, he only wrote to me to find out some one trusty, with whom he might confer without any suspicion.  
The husband of my chief chamberlain, named Don Elavio, was one of the best esteemed, and noblest of the Catalonian Knights, whose conditons when I had well examined, I judged him a man worthy of my secret. And he having comforted me, went to confer with Don Eulavio, to whom he showed the letter, which he had (as I told you) written unto me, according as we had first agreed on, to certify him, that he was sent from me, and afterwards (burning it in his presence) used with him, on my behalf, such courteous language, as might suit with an affair of such importance. To whom Don Eleimo answered, that without the testimony of the letter, himself alone was a sufficient letter of assurance and credit. And with that he told him, how that the Prince, having taken me to wife, not for affection sake (as he made me believe ere he married me) but for mere covetousness of the Arelatan kingdom, which not succeeding according to his expectation, (my father being married and having a son, and I proved a barren woman) was resolved to put me to death; but considering the good opinion which the people and his father also had of my honesty, he determined to work his ends another way, and that was by poison, which he intended to put in practice ere long, having already so wrought with my Physician, as he had got him to promise to make him some of purpose, which (for not being violent) should in the end of certain days work their effect, without giving any colour of suspicion. All which when I understood, I know not which was greater, either the hate I bore my husband for so barbarous a cruelty, or the fear I had of not being able to preserve myself; and having before my marriage been very curious of simples, whereby I knew such as might more easily be used to hurt me, I prepared for myself such antidotes, as I hoped thereby to preserve my life, as it came indeed to pass; for I in using them, so prevented the danger, as I could not have poisoned myself, although I would. Yet was I not therein uncircumspect, for some of them I took (being assured by the antidotes) others would I not take, because I knew they were too strong, being forewarned of all of them, and of their qualities, by the good Don Eleimo; whereat the Prince wondering, after many fantasies and conjectures, (most subtle as he was) imagined that I was informed thereof, but not thinking of Don Eleimo, he began to mistrust that the Physician (moved either by pity or avarice) had made me privy thereto; but when he afterwards saw, both by his protestations and proceeding in the practice, that he proved as trusty to him as treacherous to me, he could not then choose but suspect who it was indeed. And therefore he (intending now to kill two birds with one stone) forethought how to take Don Eleimo so napping, as he might punish him, not for the good he did me, but for the evil he might lay to his charge to have done with me, which he perhaps believed so to be, as one deeming it impossible that mere piety and pity (which he being never acquainted withal, himself believed to be in no other man) had moved this Knight to do me this good office; nor could he imagine that any other interesses induced him thereto, whom he well knew to be a noble and rich Cavalier and myself so poorly entertained, as I had ordinarily little more allowed me than a private Lady. Confirmed then in this article of belief, he, for many days, did nothing else but pry into our actions, though to no purpose, we being so far from any such intention as imagination itself could not fancy us more alienated therefrom.  
One had Don Eliemo among all his servants no less dear unto him, than himself was to the Prince; on him fixed Don peplasoes his eye, judging him a fit instrument for his designs; and seeing him ofttimes in his fore-chamber, waiting for Don Eleimo, took occasion to call him, under colour of ask of him something, or bidding him do some petty service, so as he puffed up with such like favours, and already framing himself high fortunes, began to despise such mean preferments as might be pretended from Don Eleimo; Nay, so great was his presumption, that thinking one day to unhorsed his master himself out of the Prince his favour, he grew by this imagination, both to envy and hate him; so useth fortune to sport herself in humane things, as in a noble mind one generous act prevails more than all worldly interesses; and on the contrary, in a base mind, one sole interest can do more than all the ties of virtue, the one to save the innocent contemns his Lord's favour, and the other to obtain it by betraying the guiltless, makes himself guilty. Now when the Prince thought he had sufficiently prepared him, he found one day opportunity to speak unto him in this wise.  
Catascopo, I purpose to receive thee into my service, but charge thee not to speak a word thereof to any man living, especially to Don Eleimo from whom ere thou part, thou must (for a business that imports me) observe, whothose of my wife's family be that frequent him most, and in this and every other action of his, penetrate the deepest thou canst possibly; wherein, if thou servest me well, I promise to make thy fortune such as thou shalt not need envy thy Master's greatness.  
Catascopo, who joyed not a little to become thus the Prince's favourite, promised to serve him with all observant diligence, wherein he could already assure him, how Don Eulavio used to come often to visit him, and that (for the most part) by night, locking themselves in privately, both alone, very circumspect, that no man overheard them; and that one evening among the rest, when Don Eulavio was gone, Don Eleimo stood a long while looking on a jewel, which the other had left him.  
The Prince (thinking he had now gotten all that he desired) bade him in any case steal away that jewel, which he promised to do, well knowing how to filch away the key of the study wherein it was laid up. This jewel was my mothers, being a triangle of three rich diamonds, each angle whereof was enriched with a great pearl; I sent it him by Don Eulavio in token of gratitude, and he (as Don Eulavio told me) accepted it very unwillingly, his heart seeming to presage unto him his ensuing evils, seeing that he abhorring it as a thing mortiferous, prayed him sundry times after he had received it, to bring it me back again; which (I believe) he did, not that his imagination stuck in what his heart presaged him; but because he blemished his nobility (as he thought) in doing mercenarily that action, which had no other end than itself. It was an easy matter for Catascopo to satisfy the ill intended curiosity of the Prince, Don Eleimo concealing not himself from him, for that he deemed him to be as faithful a servant, as himself was an affectionate Master; so as he made a shift to steal away the key, and then filching away the jewel, brought it forthwith to the Prince, who (knowing it to be mine) looked after no other evidence, but condemning me unheard, would by no means let slip a season so opportune to his villainies: Being then risen out of his bed, & causing himself to be followed by those of his guard, he went towards Don Eleimo's house, that adjoined to the Court, intending to surprise him there, but that the heavens permitted not, because having occasion to call to Catascopo (who lay in his chamber) without receiving any answer, he was forced to rise himself, when not finding him there, whereat he was much amazed, till having sent for a candle, he perceived at the first sight, the study door open, and finding not therein the jewel, he suddenly suspected the cause, wherefore the Prince favoured the Traitor. What to resolve of in that instant, he knew not, seeing that to stay there was dangerous; and to get him gone would be judged a sign of manifest guilt. Whileft thus his troubled mind inclined while to the one, and while to the other resolution, behold he perceived through a window, (which by good fortune stood the open) a great glimmering of lights, and no small crowd of people; among whom were also the Archers of the Court; whereupon examining in his judgement (in the twinkling of an eye) the cruelty of the Prince, who was both headstrong and inexorable, he resolved to shun his own ruin, as the lesset evil, reserving a place and time more proper, for the clearing of his innocency, which was mine by consequence; taking with him therefore some coin and jewels from out his study (by the being there whereof he comprehended, that the robbery tended not to the filching away of a jewel, but to the murdering of him in his life and honour) leaving unstirred his family (who little suspected any such accident) he slipped him out by a secret door that lead to his lodgings, whilst the Prince caused the street door to be furiously beaten down to the ground. The confusion of the poor servants which then lay in a deep sleep, cannot be expressed, no more than the fury of the Prince, who because he found him not, took on him like a mad man; whilst those of his train not believing that he could be fled away in so short a time, in causing him to be sought for all over the house, gave him the more time to save himself: who (being suffered to pass through the gate of the watch, not so much for giving them the military sign, as because they knew who he was) went aboard a Galley (feigning some business for the Prince) wherewith he got himself to the King my father in Arelata. The Prince (in the mean time having sent all over) found out at length the way of his escape, when though he sped all the Galleys after him sundry ways, and to divers places; yet was it not possible for any of them to overtake him, because he having chosen the best Galley never suffered the Ghinge to repose their oars, till he arrived in Aquamorta.  
Don Eleimo being thus escaped, there remained yet Don Eulavio. Now there served Don Eleimo a slave given him by Don Eulavio, who (having been well used by both, and seeing the misfortune of the one) ran instantly to the other, thinking it his best course to save himself in the house of his first Master, ere the Officers feazed on him for a chattels with the goods of the second. Now Don Eulavio used gaming very much, (and as fortune would have it) he then was at play, when seeing the slave appear before him, he (rising off the table with a great heart-beating) asked him what he would have? And (having understood the cause, though not the occasion) suspecting what was indeed, and judging his stay to quit himself thereof would prove dangerous, he loding the slave with a ladder of cords (made in his youth for his stolen love-sports) and taking his way towards a part of the city, formerly perhaps observed by him for such like occurrences, speedily descended the walls, leaving there the ladder behind, sithence when, there was never any news heard, either of him or the slave. The Prince thus frustrated of his first hope, came running to Don Eulavio's house, which he found open, and replete with servants, waiting for their Masters, that were there a gaming; but scouting on further, and detaining such as would have run in to give notice of his coming, he suddenly rushed in himself among them; where every one stood up to honour him, and he (finding there missing Don Eulavio) enquired for him, after whom when every man had sought and called too, they perceived in the end, he was gone his ways; which when Don Peplasos understood, there was no man that durst as much as look on his fiery eyes, for he laying aside all gravity, spoke and did things unworthy a Prince; all the servants there sent he packing to a close prison, as he had formerly done with Don Eleimo ': neither were those Knights whom he found a gaming, any thing better used by him; whilst I (wretched woman) lay (thanks to my quiet conscience) deeply plunged in a profound sleep. Many years before slept I al'alone, the Prince never coming near me, but at the request of the King his father, which was seldom, and then with a demeanour rather irksome & disgustful, than any whit contentsome for the conversation of married folks, unless it be in an affectionate way, is no pleasure but a torment, and savours rather of beastiality than humanity. There slept always two gentlewoman in my bedchamber, where stood a small lamp continually burning, because my melancholy being grown to be a formal infirmity, I ever found myself troubled with some indisposition, orther, either of stomach or spleen, so as there passed not a night, wherein I needed not both remedies, and the company of some to comfort me; for my head was so replete with vapours, as I saw and suffered what another woman (how ill disposed soever) could not have as much as imagined, much less seen and endured. With a great rumbling came the Prince rushing into my bedchamber, by reason whereof my fit of sickness seizing on me; as soon as I understood the occasion of his coming thither, I swooned and fell in a convulsion, so extremely violent, as I was so fortunate as not to hear with mine own ears those injurious terms which (I afterwards heard) he gave me. He would by all means have caused me so naked to be cast into the bottom of a dark dungeon, had not the king (who came running to see what this hurly-burly meant) hindered him to do it; who hearing him accuse me of adultery with Don Eleimo, by the instrumental means of Don Eulavio, told him, that the judgement thereof belonged to him as King, and therefore bade him get him to bed, telling him that what he had done was sufficient, assuring him withal, that as he would have me burnt, if he found me guilty, so would he also allow my innocence such favour as it merited; whereupon he parting away (though much against his will) the King would not as yet leave me, but patiently attending to see the end of my fit, and conferring in the mean time, while with the one, and while with the other of my gentle women, he well perceived the Prince his suspicion to be either vain or malicious. Returned to myself (if so I may say that found myself then in a worse plight than ever) the King drew near me, consolating me exceeding courteously; and having first suffered me to vent out my tears, for the disburdening of my heart, he then told me; that albeit he never had occasion in so many years, to suspect my honesty; nevertheless, being that the gods had given him the Sceptre of justice, he could do no less than hear such as accused me, to the end he might the better hear me also. And that if I knew myself innocent, he saw no cause I had to grieve, seeing that I might assure myself that no tie of affection should prevail with him so far, as to suffer me to be wronged. I (that felt myself struck through the heart by so dishonest an injury) assured by my conscience, answered him, that the not condemning me, obliged me never awhit, because finding me guiltless (as most certainly he should) he was obliged to publish me innocent; but that (to free me from the evil opinion of the world, wherein I was fall'n by this imputation) lay not at his dispose, unless he would be pleased to prefer the rites of justice before all respects of blood, by judging my malicious accusers by the strictness of the Talion law. The King strucken inwardly with my words, stoodawhile in a maze, and afterwards (bidding me good night) retired to his lodging, leaving with me a guard, with express order, not to suffer the Prince to enter my chamber.  
The day following, the fame of this accident was rumoured abroad, not only through the City, but also over all the King doom, with such discontent of the people, murmuring in so open a manner, against the person of the Prince, as made him (being no less timorous than cruel) ready to go besides himself; neither was there any Marketplace, Temple, or Common-walke, where there was not punctual scrutiny made of my life, and behaviour, followed by a general judgement on my behalf every way favourable. And in truth, though I had harboured a dishonest intention (which was (God knows) far from my thoughts) yet was it impossible for me to have ever put the same in practice, being that I went no where unaccompanied, nor stayed I ever by night or day in my own chamber all alone, neither (which is more) favoured or affected I ever any one of my women more than the rest, but esteemed them all equally alike, bearing no other different respect towards them, than might serve to manifest my better liking, to such of them as I found more diligent in my service, so as it was impossible for me to be accused by other than malice itself, which nevertheless by the aforesaid means could not possibly prejudice me, because it could no way allege time or place; although (by its mischievous malignity) it could devise how to allege persons.  
The day following the King would fain know of his son the cause of my accusation, who related unto him all that he gathered out of Catascopo, with the contumacy, and suspicious flight of the two Knights where of he form a consequence of my offence. And then examining Catascopo (who conformed himself in all things to the Prince his allegation without varying in any thing) it happened that the accusation (though most false) seemed somewhat likely to be true. Whereupon the King (misinformed) came to me, and explained all that was laid to my charge, opening unto me by his propositions a large field to clear my innocency, which I manifested unto him so apparently lively, as any man but he, would have instantly absolved me, and condemned the Prince. But alas, No man ever hated his own flesh, so as it was no marvel, if his fatherly inclination, hindered him to discern the malice of his son; he would not believe that they went about to poison me, because the Physician denied it, for which I (having no other testimony than the two Knights that were fled and gone) alleged my distillations, and some words carelessly let slip from me, whereby my women discovered in me such like suspicions. I denied not the gift of the jewel, though for the occasion I told you, further alleging, that Don Eulavio being (as every one knew) a noble Knight, it was not a thing credible that either I should use him for a Pander, or that he would have been so base as to suffer himself to become such a one: but seeing the King for all this stick firm to the evidence of his son (which was the gift of the jewel, and flight of the Knights,) I showed him how the gift had its occasion, and much more the flight of the Knights, that had been very wilfully sottish to have trusted themselves to the discretion of an unjust and cruel Prince, who if he made no conscience to procure my death, for being excluded of his hopes of the Arelatan kingdom, and for the aspiring to that of Maiorica, much less would he have made, to put them to death, to the end he might thereby, not only revenge himself, and suppress the discovery of his mischievous practices, but also rid himself of me for ever, at the price of my life and honour. In the end I besought him that my Physician might be examined by torture, whereof he was well contented; but he the very day before he was to be examined, was found strangled, to make the world believe that he hanged himself for fear of torments. My reasons (in sum) had availed me little, if (in less than eight days after this accident) there had not appeared an Ambassador from my father come scouring with main force of oars, on a well rigged Galley, who having presented the King with a letter of credence, and acquainted him with the occasion of his coming, delivered him also a letter from Don Eleimo, containing the whole story of my case, without varying a haites breadth from what I had formerly related. And (because the Ambassador suddenly upon his arrival, would needs have audience, ere he spoke with me or any other) he prayed, as soon as the King had read the letter, that he might see me, to confront therewith my deposition; which could not be denied him; and finding me in a plight so deplorable, he comforted me, with assuring me, that my father's tenderness of affection to me-wards, was no less now than when I was his only child; and that when he were assured of my honesty, he was resolved to defend it, though it should cost him his life and kingdom, that he was sent thither to be an assistant at my arraignment, which he would have prosecuted with all rigour, that so my innocency might be the better cleared, that the main proof consisted of one sole point, which was, to see if what I said, was conformable to what Don Eleimo had told my father, and now written to the King of Catalogna there present. Much was I comforted in hearing this, and after, having asked him how my father did, I related unto him (as formerly I had done to my father-in-law) the advertizements many times given me by Don Eleimo, with the several antidotes by me taken, whereof I showed them the receipts, wishing them to ask the Physicians, if such were effectual against poisons. I made known unto them in the end how it grieved me, that my Physician was hanged up in prison, for fear lest he discovered (on the rack) both his own and the Prince his treachery. Which when the Ambassador heard, he asked the King what he thought of it? Whereto he not knowing what to answer, (reading again Don Eleimo's letter, with strange mutation of colours) said, he would go confer with his son: to whom, when he had showed the letter, and made with him a great stir about it, he at length resolved to have all things hushed up, wherewith I not contenting myself (but requiring the death of the false Catascopo, with some public declaration of the Prince, for the manifestation of my innocency) could by no means possible obtain, either the one or the other, for Catascopo, disclaimed from having ever named me, maintaining all he averred to be true without any prejudice to me; and the Prince, by alleging love to be a thing full of doubts and fears, not only excluded himself from the obligation of giving me such satisfaction, as I looked for, but also pretended to have withal obliged me, in having so basely defamed me. I would fain have returned home to my fathers, but entreated by my father-in-law, deceived by the false penitency of my husband, and counselled by the Ambassador not to do it (being that my husband could no ways make a more public declaration of my wronged honesty, than to keep me with him) I was persuaded to stay; whereof I soon repented me, now that a justly conceived disdain had taken away from me all the residue of love; and that there appeared to increase in him a desire to free himself of the known ill opinion that every one conceived of him, imagining my life to be unto him a perpetual upbraiding of his infamy.  
It fortuned that a year and somewhat after that these things succeeded, the valorous Prince, your brother, was slain, whereupon a new frenzy being come into his head of getting the Princess Eromilia (a thing which could not be whilst I lived) he resolved to make me away; but not knowing what colour to have for it, now that my honesty was so openly known, he thought of a thousand ways, whereof no one liked him; at last he lighted on one, the most villainous that ever humane wit could imagine.  
Now there stood seated on the Pirenean mountains, a Temple dedicated to the goddess juno; whither such married pairs, as had lived disgusted, came from remote parts on pilgrimage, to pray the goddess to grant them reciprocal love and concord. Don Peplasos (in whom was never before seen any sign, either of piety, or religion, become now forsooth in an instant devoutly religious) invited me to this pilgrimage; whereof I (that much needed celestial help) was (God knows) exceeding joyful. Methought that my prayers were already heard, and that I saw my husband become an altered man, for that the desire to be good (which he seemed now to have) argued in him a beginning of goodness. Nothing would he resolve of without me, touching this journey, participating of my advice, as well for the manner thereof, as for the company we were to take along with us; wherein (he seeming to be exceedingly mortified and full of contrition) we resolved to go disguised, without any manner of pomp; taking with us but one servant apiece: but because I thought I could not (for modesty's cause) be so conveniently served in my occasions by a man servant, I told him that in stead of a man, I would take along with me a waiting-woman, he (telling me that it was fitting I should so do) replied; that to prevent future accidents, I should do well to take along with me also a manservant, for that we knew not what dangers might befall us by the way, and that therefore it were not amiss, to choose out such a one as I knew for aman of valour, whereunto I very willingly condescended, and being by this proposition quite cleared of all suspicion that might have stuck in my mind; albeit, so simple was I, as that I never once doubted of any thing; I selected me one, whose name was Calaplo, a harmless and comely young fellow, though never till then known to me for a man any way valiant; and now my mind settled on no other thing than my journey, having clothed ourselves in pilgrims weeds of course grey cloth, we set ourselves forwards on our journey: whither he offered not to take along with him Catascopo, to show how unwilling he was to displease me; albeit though he had brought him along with him, I would never have disliked it, having before resolved with myself to forget whatsoever was passed; in his stead took he a right noble and valiant Knight, and such a one, as I cannot believe that he knew any thing from this treacherous plot, but rather that the Prince took him with him of purpose, that his deceived goodness might deceive others. Come to the Temple, we adored the goddess, and presented her with rich gifts, whereat I believed, she smiled to see them come from two hearts, the one a Traitor, the other betrayed. I (full of religious faith) continued all the day in the Temple praying, not without feeling a very great commotion of fear in my mind, though I saw no reason why, and therefore imputing the fault to my infirmity, I fervently besought the goddess to comfort me. In the mean time my good husband (whilst the Knight was at our lodging, which was very far off, left behind there of purpose, under colour of keeping company with my woman, who was somewhat ill at ease) sent my man to fetch him a little wallet, which (having given him the key thereof) he made him open, showing him a good quantity of jewels and gold (as indeed there was nothing else therein;) then causing him to put all in again, and lock it up fast, he said unto him; Here take this wallet, and get thee gone suddenly into some country, so far off, as it may not be known that thou art living in the world, for if ever I come to know it, I vow thou shalt not live one hour after. The young man (hereat much amazed, taking the wallet) went his way without any more ado. And he coming hastily into theremple, invited me to go see a white Do on these mountains, whereat I smiled that he took it for a Do, where it was more likely some kind of Chamoy or Wilde-goate; but he obstinately persisting in affirming it to be a Do, I gathered up myself to follow him. And because my Physicians had told me, that exercise was good against my infirmity; it was no difficult matter for him (we having not as yet gotten any sight of the Do) to get me to descend through places so rugged and craggy, as it was impossible for me to return thence back again. But he telling me he had the day before gone the same way, and that a little further was a very fair path, whither we were necessarily to go, to return back again; I then (though too late) perceived myself deceived; wherefore (bursting out a weeping) I besought him to have compassion of me. But he (waxen by this time cruel, and growing more and more savage) made me troth so long, till seized on by one of my wont fits) I fell down deprived of all sense or feeling. What become of him I know not; for it was dark night ere I came to myself; when I found I was gotten into a steepy and rocky dale, a long day's journey distant from the place where I swooned. How I was carried thither, I know not, much less how I came to be left barefoot and barelegged, and stripped naked of all save only this gown of my unhappy pilgrimage; and certainly I would have chosen rather to have died a thousand deaths, than to have been left in such a plight, for my tender fear could not endure the sharpness of the stones, neither (which was worse) knew I which way to go, assuring myself, that to return back again, was impossible for me, so as putting myself into the hands of fortune, I made choice to descend the less difficult way, going for the most part on all four, and sharing among my knees, legs, and hands, the pains which my feet alone were not able to suffer. But come at last to the foot of one mountain, where began the ascent of another, without having seen all the day long any living creature, lifting up my eyes by chance, whom might I see but my servant Calaple, who beheld me, but knew me not, so great was his astonishment to see me trudge in such a fashion; till constrained by my weariness to sit me down, he came to know me by the piteous moan I made; whereupon he (with a voice somewhat loud) thus said unto me;  
And is it possible that you are my Lady the Princess? Alas, what cruel destiny could make any man become so barbarous as to put you in such a plight? I now perceive, that the cause of my exile was to make the world believe, that I were run away with your Highness, (and here related he unto me the charge and command the Prince gave him, whence we gathered the scope of his malicious intention.) Whilst we thus stood talking, behold there came three highway thiefs, that set upon him unawares, where I saw him valiantly defend himself; till they in their fight so changed their ground, as I (losing the sight of them) knew not what thereof succeeded, for there being a profound steepy dale, and a great fall of waters, between the one mountain and the other, I must have fetched a large compass about to get whither I had seen them, which lay not in the power of my fear to do, and besides, I imagined that I could not have found him otherwise than dead, for had he been alive, he would not have failed to have come to find me out. All that night lay I in that place, where the firmament was my Inn, the earth my bed, passions my meat, and tears my drink; being kept waking with the new pain of my feet, accompanied with the cold, without any hope of rising ever thence any more; so tired and tormented was I with all extremities of anguish and vexation. Scarce was it day, when I was found in this plight by a country swain, who (taking compassion on me) lifted me up, and (comforting me in pitiful manner) carried me into a Cottage, where I was lovingly entertained by his wife and mother, who (having restored me with fresh eggs, and anointed my feet and legs) laid me in a rustic bed, with such a diligent charity, as more they could not have done though they had known me for what I was. Three days abode I there, and might (if I had lifted) have stayed there longer, but being that these exceeding poor people could not furnish me with victuals for my journey, nor the shepherd neglect his flock to accompany me, nor I discover myself for great shame (having got them to show me the way to the sea, to embark myself) I went on my way; and in stead of rewarding these poor creatures with gifts, according to the state of my birth and quality, I was glad to accept of them some bread, and an old pair of slip-shooes, according to the state of my fortune, to save myself from starving for hunger, and from quite spoiling my feet: but wherefore go I thus prolonging the matter? I made a shift to get me (though with infinite sufferings) unto the seashore, which I no sooner descried, than I was from afar off espied of certain Pirates that lay there a roving about the shore, who having seized on me, fell to a great strife whose of theirs I should be, but because they saw me grown very weak with want and weariness, they suffered me to repose myself, agreeing that the chance of the dice should assign me an owner. It was the eighth night that we continued sailing (though they steered on no direct course, but rome up and down, according as occasions offered them hope of booty) when I heard them jarring among themselves with swearing they were aground, and crying out of the steere-man to hull, they seemed to be all at their wit's end, for fear of splitting. The wind was somewhat sharp, but even and level with the sea, without any surging billows; when I (seeing myself fallen into the hands of such a rabble of rascals, resolved either to free myself or die) threw me down into the sea with a plank, whilst the Foist (carried away with the wind) got far wide of me, in the twinkling of an eye; & the night being so obscure, as I could not descry the shore, I kept myself settled on the plank till the morning, when being by weariness and fasting, reduced to the pass wherein you found me, I had the fortune to receive this benefit from so worthy a Princess, who will vouchsafe (as I hope) to help me yet to get home to my father, as I beseech your Highness to do, obliging thereby both him and I, for all the remnant of our lives time.  
Eromena, who had attentively listened to the refluxes of so unjust a fortune in a Princess of so great merit, and who had before understood by others the former passages, said thus unto her; (Noble and virtuous Princess.) there is not any debt due from me to the gods (although I owe them many) which I esteem greater than their having made of me the instrument to break off (as I hope) the course of your misfortunes. I beseech you to rest you merry, and to think yourself at home at your own Royal father's house, whither I will send you so well accompanied, as you shall not need to fear either Don Peplasos or the Pirates. Here are the Princes of Mauritania, to whom I pray you to make yourself known, and to any other whatsoever; for I do not only care little, that the Prince of Catalogna know that I profess friendship unto you, but mean to make him know withal that I will for your sake profess enmity to him. And then without staying for an answer, (having sent for the two brothers that stayed to come in unto them) she related succinctly unto them the recited History: wherewith as Polimero was transported to an affect of compassion, so was Metaneone violently carried beyond himself with a passion of wrath, discoursing and arguing with himself, how that all the ill done this innocent Lady, was intended to the making miserable of his Eromilia; being very sorry he had not known it sooner, for then Don Peplasos had not so easily slipped out of his hands, whom (when his brother's affairs and his own were once settled) he resolved to chastise at any hand. With divers ends therefore comforted they Eleina, promising to hazard in her assistance both their powers and lives, so as being by them thus consolated, and by the Princess supplied with whatsoever befitted her state and quality; she thanked the gods for having by such infortunate means, so fortunately conducted her thither. Two days then after dispatched Eromena a well furnished Galley to the King of Arelate, with hers, and his daughter's letters, not consenting to let her go herself, because she intended to detain her some days, till she were recovered of her sufferings, and then to send her home better accompanied.  
In the mean time the two brothers conferred together of their affections, impatiently expecting the Count of Bona's return; whilst the Princess (to prevent the loss of time) assured herself of Luogodori: confiscating the estates of the Rebels, and therewith bountifully recompensing the merits of divers Knights, that had in this war worthily behaved themselves, so as the kingdom was in a small time peaceably settled.  
The Count of Bona, having got all things requisite for his charge, hasted over into Sardegna, where receiving intelligence of the Princess at Terranova, he fetching about the Lands end came to Portoditorre, and leaving the Fleet ride there, went thence to Sassari, where the Princess then resided. The Princes (having courteously embraced him) and understood of the expedition he brought with him, were thereof exceeding joyful; but Eromenaes' joys far transcended theirs, hoping that this Corsan enterprise would make up her marriage.  
The marquis of Oristagno (who in his youth had been one of the most amorous Knights of his time, and who by great practice on himself and others, was grown to be a skilful Physiognomist in the affairs of love) seeing her desires written in her face, thus spoke unto her; Your Highness hath done for the state one of the two things you should do to make it become fully happy, opulent and flourishing (which is) to have reduced it after such great tempests of war and rebellion to the pleasant calm of peace and obedience. The other thing that is yet to do, is, to find out a husband worthy of you, to the end that you may have a companion to bear a share with you in supporting the weighty burden of government, and to bestow on us a fair, goodly, and generous posterity.  
The Princess blushing (though well pleased with so unexpected a proposition) returned him this answer; Certainly I believe (Cousin) that you never meant to be old, seeing that you are not yet about to leave off your youthful humours, would you have me marry, when there is no man (for aught I know) that will have me; Do you think it a thing seemly or fitting for one of my sex and quality to go woe for a husband? By the high gods (replied the marquis) your Highness hath reason to conceive of me as you do; for by my goodwill I would never grow old; Where is that man living that desires to be unpleasant? Take away but the jocondnesse of our thoughts, and what are we (old men) good for? seeing melancholy makes a man noisome, both to himself and others; and mirth in old age is the gift of heaven; It conserveses a man, and makes his company become desired of every one, which if in youth it be dissolute and wanton, yet hath it in graver years its gravity, and its peculiar ways, so as under the bark of pleasantness lies hidden the substance of the Theoric and Practice of the world, which being the only book for perfecting man, instructs without error, unless error be caught hold of, in its beginnings, and in the simple vulgar opinions. The Princess smiled at his discourse, and (to give him further matter thereof) she replied.  
Oh how simple are those encomiums you make of old age, of that shivering age, which cannot be pleasant, because it wants the vigour of blood, the efficient cause of mirth. Your Highness may reason as you think good (answered the marquis) that reason of yours may hold good in old dotards, as (being long sithence fallen from being any more themselves) are good for nothing; but yet give me leave to tell you that such as fortify their minds, against the defects of time with good government, against fortune by enjoying her favours indifferently, and against their own rebellious affections, by having gotten a habitude of commanding them, fall not under the censure of this your reason; for such (keeping themselves from both extremes, (that is) from such things as befit no other than young men, and from excess of melancholy (which is most habitual in old men) may (finding themselves free from mental perturbations) conserve themselves a long time in a healthful and pleasant disposition; in whom if mirth cannot engender love, yet makes it them at leastwise become more sociable and useful to such as are enamoured, not without awaking withal the memory of their own particular loves, which in them cannot for all that be blamed, for being confined within the limits of an affection overswayed by reason. You will say then (replied the Princess) that if an old man would conserve himself in a blithsome disposition, he then ought by consequence to procure its effects, and therefore the effects of love. I say it, and yet I say it not (answered the marquis) The wife old man may be master of the affects of the mind, but not of the progressions of nature, necessary to the consideration of such effects, against which there is no word either of Prudence or Philosophy that can suffice; Yet remains there in him, I know not what thing, which I cannot express, that makes him, though having himself laid by his arms, delight nevertheless to see them exercised by young men in the terms of legal affection. Now touching what I have motioned unto you, your Highness should do it of yourself, and not wonder at me as you do, for if I were not grown old, I would not stay till some other should put me in mind of businesses of that nature. Whereat the Princess smiled, saying; And whom (Cousin) shall I take to husband? There is to Prince but will (when he hath married me) reside in his own country; and I again will by no means leave mine: and for wedding a private man, who will commend me? Neither the one nor the other should your Highness do (said he) but read a mean path between both; and being asked how? he proceeded saying, I mean some Prince noble and valorous, though without any means, for such a one can not be said to be a private man, who (in being a Prince) shall be a match befitting your greatness, and (for having no dominions) will do all whatsoever is requisite for your affairs. Yea, but could you name me such a one? (asked with a grave countenance the Princess.) Marry, that can I well, Madame (answered the marquis) Whom could your Highness ever choose more noble, valiant, and generally beloved of all men, than the Infante Polimero? Whereat she (changing her colour, and standing a while in a muse) said; I know, that to match myself is necessary, because to continue as I am, is for many respects disconvenient unto me; albeit (as yourself know) I have ever had but a small inclination thereto; but the main difficulty consists in finding out such a one as may give the people satisfaction. I cannot deny but that the Infante Polimero owns all those conditions you speak of, yet reason will not that I be she he should aim at, neither believe I, that he will ever offer to look for me, for fear (perhaps) of being rejected for want of means. Nevertheless if you think that this marriage may make for the public good of the kingdom, take you care then of the managing thereof, and (for my own part) I promise you not to swerve from your Counsel.  
The marquis, kneeling down before her, and kissing her hand, undertook the charge thereof, assuring her he would conduct it in such a manner, as she should therewith rest well satisfied, which indeed he afterwards accordingly performed: for taking opportunely hold of an occasion to exaggerate before the Council, the favours of the two Mauritanian Princes, and to exalt the valour of the younger; and descending handsomely thence to the occasions and affairs of the time, to the infirmity and decadency of the King, to the sex of the Princess (though valorous, yet feminine) he at last in general terms proposed the necessity of matching her with such a husband, as might reside in the kingdom. Whereupon all the neighbouring Princes, and others also further off being named and proposed, he found oppositions against every one, except Polimero, whose age and nature, he considered to be apt to receive the air and customs of Sardegna; who although he wanted Dominions and means, yet wanted he not forces and warlike troops, but could upon any occasion procure (as he had done at that present) great supplies of his father and brother, whose amity was more profitable, and enmity more dangerous to Sardegna, than all the rest of the neighbouring Princes.  
Some there were that feared there was some dissembling or double dealing in this business, so patly proposed in the instant of the arrival of the Mauritanian forces, as if they menat, in case they could not obtain their desire by fair means, to enforce them thereto with their powers; which the marquis perceiving, assured such of their being therein mistaken: wishing them withal to deliver themselves freely, if they thought that such a match would prove any way inutile or prejudicial unto them, assuring them of the Mauritanian troops, as well as of their own native Sardegnans. Their disputations were at length reduced into resolutions; that the marriage of the Princess was necessary; that there was not alliance nor match better, nor fitter for her, than that of the Mauritanian Infante: and that the marquis should treat thereof, by way of proposition, as proceeding from himself, giving thereby rather way and encouragement to the Infante, to demand her, than cause to believe, that they were already resolved to give her him. The joy that Eromena thereof conceived, as it was exceeding great, so was it nevertheless exceeded with an incomparable prudence, whereby she well knew how to conceal it, answering the Council that they should find her conformable to their deliberation.  
The Count of Bona after he had delivered his Lords letters, and discharged himself of the troops and Galleys, being licenced to go on his Embassage, wafted off (as soon as he had received the Prince's letters) with a prosperous gale for Maiorica, where he, and the other Ambassadors were received with all such solemnities, as befitted the Ambassadors of so great a King. And because the business was before resolved of, and this solemn office done, merely for public satisfaction; it was easily concluded on, and Eromilia promised to Metaneone Prince of Mauritania, upon the sole condition, that she would ever marry at all.  
The End of the Fourth Book.   

CAVALIER GIO: FRANCISCO BIONDI HIS EROMENA  
The Fifth Book.  
IF great was the fame of Eromilia's beauty whilst (abiding in Maiorica) she was promised in marriage to the Prince of Sardegna, far greater was it, when as soon as his death was published, her retiring also was instantly divulged abroad, the resolution and occasion whereof, with a reasonable indifferency, wrought a general amazement, so as such as before had her heard commended for the extraordinary industries of nature observed in her, now rapt with new (partly curious, and partly amorous) affections deemed that man happy, whose fortune it were to win her in this loss of herself, being it seemed not so inconvenient for any other, to find inventions to steal her away; as for her, to invent (her self) the means of depriving herself of the world. And albeit the business in itself stood not founded on reason, that a Princess (especially of so great a merit) should be constrained to alter her (upon what occasion soever grounded) indeed rather compassionable than blame-worthy resolution. Nevertheless some discoursing by way of argument, approved it as an act lawful to search after, and finding to gather up such jewels, which thrown away by an unwise (and as it were) a prodigal owner, were exposed to the hazard of being stolen away by the unworthy, and so to become subject to light into their base and abject hands; neither could such an attempt (so it were confined to the bounds of honour) be (for all that) styled rapine, the intention of the act, being to restore the thing so seized on to themselves; and though it be true that its main scope and ends tended to gain, yet doth every kind of labour deserve its hire, nor is that kind of usury unlawful which in recompense of its pains, desires but the simple loan of the thing found.  
Suchlike were the reasonings of sundry young Princes of divers Countries, who like spherical lines came to meet all in one and the same centre; nor is it any wonder that a cause remote, should produce and bring forth the selfsame respects in persons remote each from other, seeing the universal soul that moves and inspires the vast world, is even one and the same. But those (among the rest) that gave themselves most to these imaginations, were the Prince of Tingitana and one of his brothers, with the Princes of Andaluzia and Granada.  
The King of Tingitana in those days commanded as Sovereign all that part of Afsrike that lies on the Ocea sea, as far as six degrees beyond our Tropike, grown to be great there by fortune and reach of wit, (if wicked subtiles may be styled the effects of wit.) This King had four sons, that were ever at discord among themselves, who (having together with their breast-milke sucked ambition and desire of rule) could never quiet themselves with other thought than in being every of them left sole without competitors. The King old of years, but elder in wickedness, grown expert in knowing the pravity of his sons by his own, moved rather by a jealous zeal of himself than any affection he bore them, had severed them asunder, by assigning to each of them the government of a kingdom; with the revenues whereof they maintained themselves in an honourable and splendide fashion, without ever abandoning the precepts of soothing & dissembling being a maxim placed in the frontispiece of the school of those (therein so accomplished) Princes; wherein every of them so exceedingly profited, as the father's self, though a great experientist in that art, was (for all his cunning) deceived for believing those affectionate-seeming demonstrations to be really true, that were indeed but counterfeit, which nevertheless served for nothing else than for gins and traps, to ruin and overthrow one the other.  
Argilo the first borne (who bore the title of Prince) abode in Fessa (a kingdom assigned him for his share.) Anterasto the second, in the fortunate Lands; The other two possessed two kingdoms in the Meridian parts, the one on this side the lesser, the other on the other side of the greater Atlas: purposely placed so distant each from other, to the end that their neighbourhood might not occasion, or give them any subject of enmity. The King himself resided at Morocco (the heart of his Dominions) thinking he could more easily bridle the evil inclinations of his sons, by keeping them thus severed at so large distances, especially the two eldest, who troubled him more than the rest; but humane prudence is wont to light on oftentimes by shunning, what but for shunning, it had not encountered: for Orgilo (having understood by the Lord of Velez of the coming of the Princess Eromilia) grew suddenly desirous of enjoying her, guided thereto rather by his beastly appetite, than any kind of true love, for being unapt to receive those flames which shine but in gentle breasts stored with noble thoughts, wherefrom his was so far alienated, as (for having never harboured a gentle quality) he gave himself over to be a sordid receptacle of all kind of foul and mischievous enterprises: only one sole thing in him seemed to look with a face of virtue, which was a bodily force inconsiderately used, and a generous seeming spirit, the abundance of his vices straightening him too much from being able to lodge, either true magnanimity or real bounty: With such and the like qualities purposed Orgilo to work his own ends on the noble person of Eromilia But Anterasto, who, with the ambition to reign, and with impatience to be longer bridled, lived unfortunate in the fortunate Lands, having understood by the spies he kept in his brother's Court, all his designs, and how he had caused to be calked and rigged a Galley in Mamora for the stealing away of the Princess of Maiorica (thinking he might better bring his project to pass by sea, arriving unawares, than by land with the rushing noise of people, wherewith he might also run the hazard of working a jeloufie in his father) thought now or never to lay hold on this so fit an occasion to crush him, and therewithal to possess the beauty of the most famous maiden in the world. Seteld in this resolution he caused two Galleys to be put in a readiness with such expedition, as he was shipped and at sea, ere it was openly known that he had any intention to embark himself; steering on, because of the length of the voyage, night and day till he came to lie in ambush behind a little rock, without the straits of Collonne; where, having understood by a frigate which he sent before to Mamora, that his brother stood on the point of departure, and well knowing that the Pegno della morte could not easily be forced, he held it his best course to advertise the Princess beforehand of Orgilo's intention, thereby obliging her to receive him in, as a defender (being altogether ignorant of the vow she had made●) Whereupon, having to that purpose instructed one of his Knights he dispatched him away in a frigate with letters of credit; who arriving thereby night, & by the centre hindered to land, said, he was sent from a knight, who was a special servant of the Princess, concerning a business much importing her Highness, whereat Perseno (thinking he came from the Prince of Mauritania) came down to the seashore to welcome him, having already understood by Metaneones letters all things that had succeeded him since his departure thence, as the taking of Don Peplasos and his designs, the King of Maiorica's promise of giving him his daughter, his arrival in Sardegna & finding out of his brother, with the history of Eleina, and of the Mauritanian Ambassadors sent from his father to the King of Maiorica concerning that marriage; neither was it twenty days sithence there had arrived a Galley sent by the King himself, with particular news of the promise he had made, of which he wrote not openly to his daughters, thinking it better that the Countess & Perseno should at some convenient opportunity, possess her thereof, charging them by several letters to persuade her thereto. So as Perseno, thinking now that some one sent from Metaneone brought him the same news, came running downwards; when he soon perceived himself beguiled, discovering this stranger knight by his speech and habit to be none of his, grown by this means somewhat suspicious, and seeing the other in his answer not fall from generalities, but persisting in saying he had letters to the Princess, touching a business of much consequence, he ushered him up, entertaining him with the best countenance that could be, and then recommending him to the company of some Knights of special esteem, he placed him to sup with them, wherehe drank his share of the precious wines of Malaga, wherewith they ceased not to ply him, till such time as he was known to be grownei somewhat altered. Perseno in the mean time, having made privy hereto the Princess, and acquainted her with his suspicion, besought her by all means to give him audience, which she refusing to do in respect of her vow, Gierosando (falling a persuading of her to do it) told her, that her vow bound her not from such persons, which though it did, yet could it but tie her only from being seen, but not from being spoken unto, and that therefore she might well speak with him without permitting herself to be seen of him: much ado had they to persuade her to it, till at length, being'egged on with the necessity of knowing the businessei she suffered herself to be over-swayed.  
The messenger was therefore brought in, and a candle so placed, as she could not be seen; whereat he (being already informed of the occasion of the vow) was no whit displeased, but sent in before him his letters of credit; which when the Princess had perused, and seen whence they were sent, she grew to be more curious and desirous to hear him, who used not many words, and those few ill expressed and worse linked together, whereby was discovered unto her the design of the Prince of Tingitana, and how that Anterasto came purposely to defend her, being as he was a Knight obliged so to do, but that in regard the other was his brother, he would not give the King of Tingitana his father cause to think, that he thus assailing him by the way, was moved so to do for any other end, than for the obligation of Knighthood, in respect whereof he intended to give him leave to come under the rock, and there to punish him; which he had done without making her privy to it, but that he doubted that she (not knowing how the matter stood) might fear some sudden assault. The Princess stood hereat some while in a muse, without making him any answer; till by questioning him how Anterasto came to know of this attempt and what moved him to incur the hazard of succouring her against his own brother, she gave him occasion to tell more than was either demanded of him, or committed to his charge to reveal; Insomuch as he affirmed that the desire of enjoying her beauty, & the affectionate love he bore her, made her become his brother's enemy. Now Eromilia had formerly understood of their hatred and malice, whereby she knew that the occasion of this service, sprung not from any love to her, but rather from the hate he bore to his brother, and that such like love in subjects that obscured the sweet affection of fraternity, could not prove to her otherwise than dismal and unlucky; reviving therefore her memory with the designs of the Pirates, than whom she judged these more dangerous, she answered him, that she held herself obliged to the Infante Anterasto, which she would make known to the King her father; Howbeir she marvailed much that a Prince so noble, as his brother was, could harbour so thievish a spirit, especially considering how she resided in the territories of Tingitana, where she expected to be protected rather by him than by any other. Howsoever she bade him, (seeing he was so minded) come and spare not, for that she was not so ill provided of men and munition, as that she had not thereof both number and store, sufficient to defend herself. And that therefore seeing the coming of his Lord Anterasto was needless, she prayed him to spare himself that labour; aswell for that she stood in no necessity thereof, as also because she desired not that he gave his father the King of Tingitana any cause of disgust, who could not choose but suspect the worst of these his proceedings: and then rewarding the Knight with rich presents, she licenced him. But to the Countess, who seemed to be sorry that she accepted not the assistance of Anterasto, she said, She was loath to give him any occasion or excuse to come, being assured that his purpose was no less abominable than his brothers, and that (God willing) she would defend herself from the one and the other.  
The first thing which the Princess did, was to send away the two Galleys that road in the haven to save them, being disfurnished of their soldiers, employed for the manning of the holds within, from being seized on by the enemy, but much rather to give her father notice of the danger wherein she stood; and then caused all her forces to be severed into divers places, not doubting of being able to defend herself for many months, the place being well fortified and provided of victuals.  
By no means would the faithful Perseno lose this so fit an occasion of letting her see, how that her stay there was an invitation to any one to come to steal her away, who being till then extolled for her virtues and prudence, was now like enough to incur a contrary censure, seeing the daily perils sufficed not, either to make her become more wary, or to change her resolution. Besides, the expenses and distastes of her father, who hazarded the bearing the brunt of some dangerous war, with one Prince or other, whereof two might pretend themselves already injured, who were those of Catalogna and Tingitana; telling her withal, that God requires not of us aught beyond our power, but is displeased when under colour of doing him service, we do what we should not do: that Peros●ilo's soul could receive no satisfaction from these her lugubrious loves; but that her age, the laws, the kingdom, and the King her father desired an end in this business; and that if heretofore it behoved her to match herself for convenienceies' sake; she was now by necessity constrained thereto, it behoving her of force to have one to defend her, and to give herself to one, thereby to avoid the being thus injured by all.  
Eromilia blushed to see herself so nearly touched with these reasons, knowing them to be true, by the feeling she had of the present dangers, more than by any thing else, which seconded rather with the tears, than the arguments of the Countess, drew her at last to promise them (as soon as her year ended) to return home again. Full glad were the Countess and Perseno, to have gained on her this point, beyond their expectation, and therefore took further occasion to instill into her memory the modesty of Metaneone, who, finding her Pegno della morte unwalled and disarmed, would not so much as offer once to put foot ashore, for fear of displeasing her; and now they observing, that his name sounded pleasantly in her ears, and that she listened willingly thereto, signified so much unto the King. Perseno writing besides unto Metaneone, whom he besought to favour them with a convoy, being that her father had not a Fleet sufficiently potent to resist so many enemies.  
Anterasto's messenger returned in the self same time, when by her flags was descried Orgilo's Galley gliding smoothly on the crystal surface of the calm sea, glittering by reason of the reflection of the golden Sunbeams, nor was it long ere she entered into the straits, where they lost sight of her. She passed some four hours before night, and went with an intention (being that the wind withstood her not) to arrive the day following at the Pegno della morte ere the break of day, thinking that hour of all other the fittest time to surprise it.  
In the mean time Anterasto weighed anchor, and coasting Spain, took on him to steer a different way, but at night tacking about, held the same course, by crossing the straits, and coasting along the shore of Africa; wondering not a little why Eromilia would not be seen, for which he believed not her vow an excuse sufficient, because he, that never was of any Religion, or ever knew the gods, judged of all others by himself. And understanding further (by the messenger) wonders of her perfections, which the more unapt he was to judge of, seemed by so much the more strange unto him, he grew the more desirous to possess her.  
Whilst these two (so near in blood and resolution) were posting towards the fatal place prepared for them by destiny; fortune (resolved to represent now a complete Tragedy) had in her seen assembled the two Princes of Andaluzia and Granada, which with an equal design, had each of them put in order a Galley, to come to the possession of those beauties which were judged so much the fairer, by how much the more they were hid and prohibited. Their father's Dominions were somewhat near adjoining, but their thoughts so far from any nearness of sympathising one the others, as they themselves but too well knew, that either of them ever endeavoured to cross the others intentions. Nor should it seem strange that all of them ran with so small forces to this enterprise; being that their hope and aim was not to force the rock, but to surprise it, for who so would have made provision to take it by force, had need of greater power than theirs within, or (attempting it with an equal force) of time, (the father of inventions,) wherewith the neighbours would have been awaked, and so the execution of their designs interrupted. Wherehence we may gather, that an unripe and imprudent counsel proves oftentimes better than a prudent and mature direction.  
The Prince of Andaluzia had before his setting forth of the haven, descried afar off a Galley, who crossing the seas, took the direct course he meant to steer, suspecting therefore that others might intend as he did, he lancing out, traced her, till such time as (the Sun declined) the darkness deprived him of the sight of her. The other, who was the Princes of Granada, albeit she saw this Galley make after her, yet was she nothing suspicious of her, but steering onwards, arrived by three hours of the night, at Pegno della morte, with as little noise as possibly she could, suffering herself to be carried merely with the force of her course without any further help of oars: which nevertheless was not so secretly performed, but that the scouts of the Pegno descried her, expecting (because of the notice given them) no less than to be assaulted. The Knights, without any noise stood every man ready to make good his ground, and (that the enemy might think himself the more secure) as much as the very rounds had retired themselves.  
The Prince of Granada (armed at all pieces) was the first that set foot on ground, followed by two hundred resolute spirits (the greater part whereof were of the bravest Knights in his Country) amongst whom one (who had been there before to view the fortificarions) was the first man that (by a scaling ladder) mounted the walls, causing (in the selfsame instant) divers oaths to be fastened in places less difficult. The great silence kept within, made them hold the enterprise for accomplished, there being neither Centrees, nor rounds to be seen. But the scaling ladders were no sooner full, than (with the showering down from on high, of logs of timber, fire and stones) the assayers were all beaten down, bruised and killed, and the ladders (for the most part) torn and rend all to pieces. Whereupon the Prince renewing the assault, and losing then more than before, seeing the place inaccessible, retired himself, just as there came a Galley rushing into the port with great fury; upon the sudden arrival whereof he (neither knowing whose she was, nor willing to fight against so many, making up a squadron of such as remained alive) marched down to the sea shore, to see whom it was; but receiving no answer, he waxed bolder, and just as he opened his mouth to hail them again (with his beaver lift up) there hit him a shaft in the very mouth, that pierced him quite through the nape of the neck, wherewithal showered so great a cloud of arrows on the rest of his troop, that almost all of them lay dead in the place; whilst those of Andaluzia not so much as once quitted their standing, whose Prince mad angry for being discovered, assailing with a sudden fury the Granadan Galley, easily took her, and understanding whose she was, was passing glad thereof.  
These two Princes were Cozen-germanes, grown at odds for certain lands, and other pretensions of the brothers their fathers, become now withal rivals and pretenders to one and the same beauty, which sole occasion had been sufficient ground of enmity. Howsover the Andaluzian Prince could not choose but grieve now that he saw the other dead, being that nearness of blood, must needs work something in any one, whose heart is not waxen altogether inhuman, and resolutely given up to hate and revenge. Yet was not the Tragic example of his Cousin's death, sufficient to warn this infortunate Prince from tumbling down the precipice of the same fortune, albeit by the chillinesse of divers shivering fears his first heat were frozen, for grown now near his end, he could not give place to the opposition of reason, because it lay not in his power to resist the will of heaven; so as seeing himself thus guided by so wavering a passion in the place where his misfortune led him on to slay his Cousin, he more now enraged than enamoured, commanded his men to give the assault, resolved (now that he found himself grown to that pass) either to take the rock or die. But alas, what could he do with so few men against that hold, which was of its natural situation so strong as it could not be won but either by surprisal, or by far greater forces, than his were? Whilst he, thus despairing of what he would have done, but much more desperate for what he had done, made account to retire himself, behold the Prince of Tingitana (hearing the noise of the conflict) comes sweeping amain over the swelling waves, and seeing the two Galleys left unmanned, thought it his best course to seize on them, left they might be made instruments to indamage him, which he soon accomplished, for finding in them but very few fight men, he put them all to the sword (without sparing one of them) even to the imbruing his Princely blade in the base blood of the rascally Ghing.  
The Prince of Andaluzia seeing himself thus surprised (having retired his men from the walls) stood ready to receive this second unlooked for enemy, who landing with no great difficulty, and understanding by a prisoner the case of the Cousins, (grown choleric to see his design thus thwarted) came fiercely on with sword in hand, desirous rather to kill him with his own hands, though with danger, than to shoot him through with arrows as he might have done without any peril at all.  
This Prince Orgilo was great of stature, and strong as any Knight of his time, who for knowing himself to be such, never knew what fear meant, which engendered in him an undaunted temereity. But as his force was greater than that of a savage beast, so was his judgement less than that of man. Stay to be backed by his he would not, but went on himself alone, to charge them all, and had made them all retire too, had there but been any place of retreat.  
The poor Andaluzo stood almost under the walls, whom Perseno taking for Orgilo (as he took also Orgilo for Anterasto) defeated with logs and stones; so as the true Orgilo had no great ado to make an end of the rest, having first with his own hands killed the Prince as he had desired: which effected, he knew not what to do next; but he from below, and Perseno (with his) from above, stood looking the one on the other without speaking a word.  
The night was exceeding fair, so as the Moon being then newly risen, discovered them each to other; When Orgilo (seeing himself injured by none, and thinking to delude them) told them who he was; and that being advertized of the intentions of these two Princes, he was come of purpose to interrupt and chastise them, being an act that concerned him, not so much for being Prince of that Country, as because he more than any other was desirous to serve the Princess of Maiorica their Mistress. Perseno (dissembling his knowledge in those passages) answered him, That that act of his was such as might be expected from a just and generous Prince, for which he kindly thanked him, on the behalf of the Princess, and the King her father, both which would therefore remain his debtors, but that he was only sorry for one thing, which was, that he had put himself to that trouble without any need, for if he thought himself able to oppose two Princes, and frustrate their designs with one only Galley, he might easily have imagined that the quality of the Princess her servants, was not so lither and effeminate, not their valour so slender, as not to know how to defend themselves against so few in a place so strong: and that therefore it had been sufficient for him to have sent the Princess intelligence thereof, without exposing himself to such a hazard; or if he would needs come, wherefore came he not then by land, which he might have more easily done, and with more men too, being that there wanted no Barks at Velez, to pass them over to the rock? Strange seemed this language to Orgilo, who judged him too arrogant, and withal too saucily subtle for penetrating and touching him so near the quick of the truth, which made him disdainfully thus reply; I know not what thou art, that speakest thus indiscreetly; I hold the Lady Princess for the most courteous damsel of the world, so as I have cause to wonder, that she retains in her service a fellow so discourteous as thou art: It besits not thee to examime or pry into the actions of Princes who govern themselves according to their particular uncontrolled wills and understandings, not staying to have their actions scanned, by the measure of the common judgement of the vulgar, for the most part false and remote from any true principle. Somewhat more he would have said, when his own men (pointing with their fingers) showed him two Galleys that came entering the port, whereupon (believing them to belong to one of the dead Princes) he ran hastily to the shore to hinder their disembarking.  
All this while had Anter asto hastened the best he could, for fear of coming too late, doubting of the fortunate temereity of his brother, from whom he assured himself the Rock could not easily be won by so few men as his troops consisted of, if his brother but once possessed it. And seeing ride there three Galleys, he was not afraid of them, but marvailed to see them so silent, taking them to belong to the Princess, and imagining that his brother was not as yet there arrived: drawing nearer them, and seeing two of them full of dead bodies, and the their with the colours of Orgilo (which he soon descried together with himself standing on the shore) he imagined that he had taken the Galleys, but that for not being able to take the Rock, he had then retired himself. His first resolution was to seize on the Galleys which succeeded him fortunately, for causing his Archers to play at those squadrons he saw marshaled on the shore, he gave them no time to remount aboard their Galleys, as they sought to have done, shooting them at his pleasure, though to no great hurt of those others, who (kneeling on the ground, and covering themselves with Targets closed together one athwart another) sheltered themselves from the shot.  
Orgilo had with him the bravest and expertest soldiers of all Assrike, so as though inferior in number, he no more feared this assault, than if he had had equal forces to withstand it; nor would he retire himself one step from the ground he stood on, which was there, where such as came ashore, were of necessity to land.  
Anterasto (seeing the slender service his arrows did him) made on towards the shore with a Frigate, whereupon his men (seeing him go with so few, against enemies that so well defended themselves) leapt into the water to rank themselves with him; who would have found enough to do, had they not been armed with lances, wherewith (maugre the obstinate courage of Orgilo) they forced a place to land the rest of their troops: yet him could they never have forced, if his own men had seconded him by doing as much as he did, who not caring a rush for the pikes and lances, but encountering them boldly, burst them with his breast in shivers, so confident was he in the fine temper of his Cuyrasse, not stirring one inch off his ground, but blaspheming heaven, and abusively injuring his followers, branding with infamous titles, and direful menaces the most valiant of them, who (having retired themselves not cowardly but discreetly for being over-matched in number and arms,) as they forsook him not in effect, so came they far short of equalling his temerity, reduced to the point of obstinately resolving not to stir thence a foot. Anterasto, glad to see him brought to this straight, and desirous to make use of this advantage, commanded his troops to keep the enemies so separated, as they might not be able to come to reunite themselves any more with their Captain; wherein he was straightways obeyed; for two hundred of them falling into a close order, interposed themselves between them, leaving Orgilo all alone, without possibility of being succoured by any, whilst he, with his sword in both hands, made himself large way, without being hurt of any; for all shunned the whisk of his mortal blade, which had by its keen cutting, shown itself to be both well tempered, and of finest edge and metal.  
Anterasto, who was a Knight of great valour, and though not so strong, yet more dexterous and wary than his brother, whom he desirous to kill with his own hands, (not so much for any distrust he had of his, who would (if they had known him) have borne him respect, as to carry away together with Eromilia and a kingdom, the rich spoils of three sovereign Princes) bravely encountered him hand to hand, wounding him with a main blow on the elbow of the sword hand, which although it struck him not down, because of the goodness of his armour, yet was it such as so benumbed him, as he was not able to requite him with the like: so as favoured by this opportunity to make use of his point, he bore him a thrust under the vauntplate, between the two cuyshard pieces, bursting through the mail that assured that part of his body, and running his sword in his belly four fingers beneath the navel. Full well preceived Anterasto that he had mortally wounded him; yet not satisfied with giving him his death's wound, but desirous withal to let him dying know by whose hand he fell. Proud wretch, (said he) thouart now come to that pass which thou thoughtst by thy treacheries to bring me to; die thou shalt now (maugrethy stout mischievous heart) by my hand, and I will kill thee fairly, as becomes a good Knight, although thy treacherous life nver deserved at my hands so honourable a favour.  
Orgilo, knowing his brother, and not grieving so much for his death, as to dye by his hand, seeing he could not use his right arm, and that there was no way for him but death, being therefore loath to lose any time in making him any answer, he (throwing away his shield, and patiently suffering himself to be wounded anew, without offering once to put by any thrust) with his left arm strongly grasped Anterasto, whom he (being endued with extraordinary force) bore to the Shore-brink, which was not above ten paces off, with telling him, Die than I will, for so will my misfortune have it, yet shalt not thou (insulting traitor) outlive me, for we will both march hand in hand to the other world, where if there be any field to fight in, I now mortally defy thee to an eternal combat. At which word throwing himself down headlong into the water with him, (maugre all his struggling to get off) he bore him down to the bottom, whence neither of them returned ever since up again.  
Anterasto's Knights, there present, little thinking to see their wrestling come to such an end, were nothing careful to help their master, seeing the advantage he had already, much less when they came to know his enemy; but when they saw both of them so plunged in the Sea, they remained thereat much astonished. The Frigates ran to their succour, but too late; and one who disarmed himself to dive under water to fetch them up, soon repent him of his intention, when he saw it was to no purpose at all, seeing that if they were dead, all his labour was in vain; and if alive, yet was it more than he alone could do to bring them up again, who besides would have had so much sense as to keep him under water with them, taking him for an enemy, and so should he have been drowned for attend man. But indeed, the truth is, that they cared not much for either of them, all men fearing and hating as well the one of them as the other; so as there were some of them that interposed themselves between the two squadrons that yet continued fight, who understanding the case, and knowing themselves for vassals of one and the same King, lifting up their arms (in token of accord) appeased their mortal fury: But seeing themselves on the rock, where they imagined the Princess to have great treasures, they resolved to force the place, under pretext of revenging the death of their lords, by sacrificing to their souls the bodies of such as defended it. Nor could the strong situation of the place restrain them, who grown courageous by their false imagination, prepared themselves to give th'assault.  
Returned into Sardegna was the Count of Bona, with an happy answer to his embassage, to perfect the happiness of Prince Metaneone, who the self same night in his sweetest sleep, thought he saw some one awake him ingreat haste; the chamber was without light, yet thought he that all the wall on its foreside stood open, so as by Moonlight he might see, that he that awoke him was Perseno. Fain would he have risen on his elbow to salute him, when the other (without uttering a word) keeping him down with one hand (with a look melancholic, and all besmeared with blood) showed him with the other, the Pegno dellamorte assailed by many men, who strove to come scale the walls. Metaneone, turning about to know of him who they were, & how he came thither, lost suddenly the sight of him, and desirous thereupon to rise up, he saw no more neither battle, nor Pegno, nor any opening of the wall, but the obscure pitchy darkness of the night, with the chamber in its former natural terms and dimensions: come to know himself awakened, he marvelled much to see his imagination work so strongly on him, as to make him not only think his dream true, but even to believe that it was no dream at all. Returned to sleep again, there passed not an hour ere he was in the same manner again awakened by the Countess of Palomera: Seeing again through the breach of the chamber, the Pegno assaulted; but as he would have asked her somewhat, he saw she was quite vanished away, & in her place appear the Princess his Lady and Mistress, who from the windows of the Castle, beckoned unto him to come to her succour. Whereupon, throwing away the coverler, and rising up suddenly without further examining whether it were a dream or no, now he saw himself awake, nor believing it less true in that he saw the Well closed up again, having called up his servants to bring him lights, he went to the next chamber, where Polimero lay, to whom when he had related the vision, he told him, how he was resolved to high him thither, because he could not believe that this vision (or dream whatsoever it was) contained not in it some mystery; and had upon this parted suddenly, but that the occasions of the wars persuaded him to stay till day, for the avoiding of such suspicions, as might be concelved of this nocturnal and sudden resolution.  
Polimero (being as yet very sleepy) said unto him, My Lord and Brother, to stay till day will doubtless prove to be your best course, because so sudden a departure cannot choose but be ill taken, and much censured; especially, seeing you cannot go so alone, but must take with you many of your Galleys designed for the Corsan enterprise. And (then having pawzed awhile) he proceeded. I cannot believe that either too light, or too free-feeding hath occasioned you this dream; for being that you supped last night, these fantasies could not proceed from any weakness; and on the other side, seeing you fed not superfluously, there is no place left for imaginations, so particular, and distinct, as those you saw; neither is (indeed) your temperature or complexion, any way subject to melancholy; but I should rather think, that you were (ere you slept) troubled with some imaginations that caused you to see, in this your dream, such resemblances as were represented unto you.  
No (brother) no, (answered him Metaneone) it was not any distemperature proceeding from diet, that hath produced these effects, much less any imagination, or melancholic passion, for I went to bed merrily enough disposed; and albeit I deny not that my thoughts are ever busied about Eromilia, yet am I sure they are not any thing spiced with melancholy, which though they were; how is it possible for them to have shape so distinct a dream, if it may be said a dream to find myself broad-waking, gotten up, and withal to have spoken once with Perseno, and another time with the Countess of Palomera, and to see the self same things the second time, as at the first, not sleeping, but broad waking; and which is more, the assault, the very place, nay, my Lady Eromilia's self out of my chamber, laid then open to the heavens, and splendour of the moon? To these last words Polimero halfe-smiling made him this answer; The seeing now your chamber as before; the knowing of the great distance of the persons you saw, and much rather of the place which of itself is immovable, may assure you, that yours was but a dream, though such, as of itself is not altogether to be slighted: for many are of opinion, that the knowledge which we have of the gods (for as much as concerneth pure nature, and its instincts) depends, partly in the order of such things as we see in the world, and partly on the motions of the mind in dying, and on the quietness and sweet temper of the senses in sleeping: for the soul being in that instant free, and in its pure celestial disposition foretells us things to come, thereby instructing us how we should govern ourselves, which also befalls oftener the good than the bad; the former participating of the divinity in a certain manner, which the evil do not. By this came in Divination, which many well-ordered Commonwealths, not only believed, but also governed themselves by it; which as I cannot commend, so must I needs confess, that who so denies not the divinity, cannot deny the examples of divine admonitions by way of dreams, whereby have been ruled both men and kingdoms: only what I think not well of, is, to credit every dream indifferently; because, as the denying of divine admonitions is impiety, so also to believe that all dreams are divine admonitions, is both superstition and vanity. I know not what to say of it (answered Metaneone) but well know, that the world (for the most part) excludes those things for which it can give no reason, whereof I believe this to be one. Nor can all the Philosophers that ere the earth enjoyed, make me believe, that their ignorance in knowing the reason of things can make that not to be, which experience teacheth us, cannot choose but be in effect. Which he expressed so passionately, that Polimero could not choose but smile thereat, and therefore said unto him; It is an ordinary thing for such as desire to surmount others in knowledge, to come short of them therein. To deny either the sense or the effect of things, is, if not ignorance, at least a sophistical and foolish wisdom; for if this so were, who could give us a reason of the gods? who have bestowed on us many things, not that we should know them, but that we might use them.  
There's not a people in the world but believes, that things to come may by some means or other be foretold, the examples whereof are infinite, and the consent both general, and authorized, if not by the reason of the efficient cause, yet at least by its effect and success. We may then conclude that your dream, (not proceeding from any alteration, but reiterated with the testimony of your own self broad waking) is a voice come from heaven to call you to succour that Princess, whom (being you) you ought to defend against all the world.  
The Prince seemed to be herewith satisfied, though not yet well quieted in mind; for having spent the residue of the night in preparing himself for his journey and in rowzing up his followers, he with Impatience longed for the appearance of the new day, that he might take his leave of Eromena. But the Mauritanian Knights being scatteringly dispersed over the lodgings, it happened that the hearing the noise that was made in knocking in so many places, and understanding it to be down by Metaneones order rose up all-astonished in that she knew not the occasion thereof till having sent for him; he and his brother both came and participated unto her the business, wherewith she then remained well satisfied: for the imagination of not knowing▪ what to imagine thereof, had before very much troubled her. But now she offered him the whole fleet, and (if need were) her own person also, judging it by the quality of the dream impossible, that this fair Princess stood not in some dangerous plight. Metaneone, (yielding her therefore condign thanks) told her, that he left with her his brother in pledge of his service, and besought her courteous pardon, assuring her, that no other occasion could have been able to have drawn him from her service, (especially at that time) except this employment, whereto he held himself the more obliged (albeit he had had no such interest therein as indeed he had) because he thought that heaven itself had thither called for him in particular. Howbeit, he meant not to take along with him any more than six Galleys, in that he saw in the vision (whereto he gave credit) the enemies to be but few in number, leaving the others with the rest of the shipping, to be disposed of by her Highness as her own, for such would he have them be. Whereupon, loath to lose any time, he suddenly parted (after he had taken his leave of the Princess Eleina, who was also come to see what this stirring meant.) By the break of day came he to the Fleet, where embracing Polimero, he prayed him to send their father word of his departure, promising to advertise him of whatsoever should befall him. And then (having taken his leave of the marquis of Oristagnio, who would by all means have accompanied him, the Count of Bona, and the rest,) he hoist up sails, with so great a desire to be in Africa, that thinking a good gale of wind not sufficient, he would needs have his oars plied withal, which he was fain to countermand again, seeing the Seas swell, and the winds maintain of themselves a stiff gale, according to his own desire.  
Eight days without ceasing continued his navigation, always attended on, either by favourable gales, or gentle calms, which (in respect of the goodness both of ghing and vessels) no whit disadvantaged his voyage. In the morning of the ninth day was by its dawning discovered to his view, the Pegno della morte; and within an hour after were descried, four Galleys running into that haven, which confirmed him in his opinion, that his dream was not false, wherefore causing the oars to assist the sails, he arrived there two hours after Sunrising.  
The Soldiers of the two brothers had done their utmost endeavours to assail the walls, during the piece of night that rested, but seeing at last the loss they sustained, they retired themselves, with an intention not to get them gone, but to procure of the Lord of Velex some supply of men, till such time as their King (being thereof advertised) either sent or came himself to avenge the death of his sons, for which purpose they had sent to him a Galley. And as they thought in the mean while to repose themselves, they saw strike into the ●port four Galleys, whose lord being Don Peplasos, seeing the armed troops under the walls, with such a number of dead bodies, would not resolve of any thing, till perceiving how few they were, and seeing the Galleys opposing him not, as soon as he came to know who they were, and what had befallen them, he proffered them (on condition they would but assist him to take that hold) the whole place itself, with all therein (the persons only excepted:) quick enough were the Tingitanes in accepting this proffer, who suddenly choosing themselves a Captain, sent him to conclude the accord, so as having landed the fresh forces, and gotten new Scaling-ladders, they re-began the fight; the defendants being tired out with fight all the night long, without once closing an eye: whilst Perseno, who had the main care of all things (both in commanding and performing) discharged the duty of a good Knight.  
Don Peplasos (seeing that place could not be taken by scaling, unless it were either at unawares, or by night, caused a Ram-engine to be landed, which, together with its testude, they settled on its wheels, covered with great searses of Goats-haire, to save it from fire. The Ram was fastened with a strong chain, and supported by two timber-beams, joining angle-wise under it, reared up against the wall, in the lowest, evenest, and most accessible part of the Rock. Which done, he (to beat the defendants off the walls) planted above forty Catapults, and Crossbows, which so galled the defendants, that many of them were thereby killed and wounded; among whom Perseno made one, having one arm little better than lost by a Crosbow-shot. The Ram began already to work its effect, and the wall (which was new and hastily built) began soon to yield to its ruinethreatnings-but. Remedy there was none, for the leaden Cilinders (which are used to bruise the Rams) the millstones likewise and pillar-pieces were not beforehand provided, ●no more than the sacks stuffed with straw, which are usually let down between the wall and the Ram, to abate the force of its mighty thump: not had they as much as iron Wolves and Crows to grasp the Ram withal; for having not (in so short a warning) forethought of assuring themselves against other than a sudden assault; using stones for a shift, in stead of oil, sulphur, pitch, and lime, when it was dangerous for the defendants as much as to peep out, so incessantly were they played upon by those murdering engines.  
The Princess Eromilia (whom fear had caused to strain courtesy with her religious vow) stood o'recharged with grief, looking out through a window of the Tower, a wailful Spectatrix of the unhappy conflict: repenting now too late her obstinacy, knowing now by a feeling experience, her father's reasons to be true, Perseno's persuasions good, and the Countess her counsel both wholesome and holy. But (alas) what comfort or help can repentance bring in a season when it can do no good? The Countess that stood by her (albeit moved and grieved to think that the Princess her self was the sole cause of all these evils) omitted not (for all that) that reverence, which a faithful servant in all respects owes his Lord nor yet lost she the occasion of giving her a gentle touch and feeling of her errors, by telling her that Princes (how prudent soever) should never deliberate of any thing of themselves alone, especially when affection makes them become passionate, and therefore apt to deceive themselves; which (as she then told her) she thought good to put her in mind of, not for the present, when the evil could not be remedied, but rather to forewarn her from incurring the like danger in succeeding times. I would to God (answered the Princess) that it might do me good hereafter, whereof I much doubt, because I see no way to shun this present ruin. The Gods will therefrom deliver you (answered the Countess) whereof I conceive already an assured hope. See you those Galleys there? If my sight beguile me not, they are the Prince of Mauritania's; your Highness hath better eyes than I, I beseech you look, if the Admiral hath three Lanters, for if it hath, then sure they are his. The Princess (who had stood all the while, with her eyes fixed on her own danger, fetching a deep sigh) turned her look to the seawards, and spying there the Galleys, she all joyful, cried out, that one of them bore such lanterns; but this consolation lasted not a moment, when she now saw they wall battered down, the enemy enter in, and her men fly upwards towards the house. Perseno, seeing the case thus irreparable, being resolved to die, retired himself fight with his unhurt arm, without lending any ear to the Catalan, who had by public proclamation granted life to such as laid aside their arms, yet were there for all that but very few that followed not Perseno's example.  
In the beginning of this service were found to be near about five hundred fight men, between such as were sent thither from the King, and those that were taken out of the two Galleys; whereof lay dead almost three hundred, and of them the greatest part slain by the Machine's; with the rest went Perseno retiring, though always fight, but the steepiness of the rock (making for their great disadvantage, by discovering to the Catalognian Archers, the rear, as well as the front) was cause that he lost many of them, so that at length his feeble self wounded again with the push of a pike, and then trampled under foot, gave occasion to such as remained to yield themselves to the enemy's discretion; whom the Tingitans would have put all to the sword, but Don Peplasos, who aspired to Eromilia's favour, would by all means have them all spared; giving them withal leave to gather up Perseno, who lay, though not dead, yet dangerously wounded, by whose fatal ruin were utterly overthrown the nowruined hopes of the poor distressed assiedged; the house not being any whit fortified, but depending altogether on the fortune of the walls below.  
The Princess all this while never stirred off the window, where having called one unto her, she caused him by waving about a sheet fastened to a pole, to make signs to the Galleys to hasten their course, insomuch as Metaneone with all the rest saw it, and grieving at the slowness of the wind though favourable, he caused the Ghing to plunge their oars anew in the foaming deep; by means whereof he quickly appeared so near the view of Eromilia, as he might plainly discern her dolorous gesture in the act of imploring his succour; and the Countess with her hands beckoning unto him to make all possible haste.  
The defendants a little before (when they saw the enemy got in) had locked fast the Tower, and fortified its gate with chests and coffers (though it was of itself sufficiently strong, being barred all over with iron bands) hoping to keep themselves free, until the arrival of Metaneone, which fell out indeed as they expected; for Don Peplasos unwilling to offer any violence (being already assured that he had her in his hands, and well knowing that for want of provision and men to defend her, she must needs at last have yielded) came himself in person to the gate, using the most humble and loving terms that could be. But the Princess when she came to know him (grown no whit dejected to see herself thus penned up by one she abhorred more than death itself) up-braided him his treacheries so disdainfully, that he thereupon reassuming his natural disposition, and laying by all feigned courtesies, was now a preparing his engines to beat down the gate, when news was brought him of the arrival of six Galleys. The Princess not regarding him any more, when once she heard the trumpets sound, returned with the Countess back to the window, whence perceiving Metaneones saluting her all armed as he was, she answered him by doing the like in a manner, expressing her gratitude as courteously as possibly she could; by which favour he thought his courage so multiplied, as he would to do her any service, have resolutely fought against all the world. The Countess with signs made known unto him the best she could the state they were in. But the Prince assailing the Galleys (which were left almost unmanned, because of every one's running to the sack) took them without any great ado, and understanding whose they were, thanked the gods that he came time enough to thwart those his mischievous designs.  
Don Peplasos giving over his late intention of throwing down the gate, ran with his whole squadron down towards the seashore, confused in mind to think of what he were best to do, and astonished at the suddenness of the enemy's arrival, without being described on the main sea, being that not only his Centrees, but even he himself might have easily discovered him thirty miles off. At last he resolved to stay in the Fort, and there to make good his ground against the enemy, for that he thought himself too weak to keep from landing.  
Metaneone, who no whit regarded the hazard of his own person, grown now furious with love, but more enraged with anger, hotly assaulted the ruins of the wall, not so well defended as assailed, till seeing he therein spent too much time, having placed an hundred soldiers to the Ram, he made them give against that part of the wall that lay next the breach, which being already much shaken with the former battery, with fifty stiff blows fell to utter ruin; so as the squadron that stood ready to mount the breach, entered it, maugre all the enemy could do, who now discouraged, were forced to retire as Perseno had done before them. When Metaneone knowing the Catalan Prince, thus bespoke him; And is this (Don Peplasos) the recompense, wherewith thou requitest the King of Maiorica's courtesy and mine, when we freely gave thee both thy life and liberty? Are these the exploits of a Prince, or of a thief? Well, I now promise to do thee justice, which thou deservest as a thief, seeing thou abusest the undeserved courtesy which I did thee as a Prince.  
Don Peplasos, (finding himself disadvantaged, as well in reason as power, both the generosity of his mind, and vigour of his spirits, failing him together, whether by reason of his wounds, or otherwise) sunk down to the ground in a swound and senseless: Metancone, causing him to be carried by a strong guard into his Galley, gave order, that he should be carefully looked unto, whilst the most part of the rest, who had the happiness to die with their arms in their hands, made (by their death) an easiee way to their fellow's captivity, who were not long detained prisoners, but as common thiefs hanged up, without any pity, about the walls of the Rock. Catascopo had also run the same fortune, had not Metaneone remembered to ask for him, and caused him to be apart by himself, put in irons, to the end that the deferring of his present punishment might serve him for interest of a greater.  
The victory once gotten, the first thing that Metaneone did, was to ask how Perseno fared; When understanding the ill plight he was in, he was much grieved thereat; yet being unwilling to make any stay in the Fort, for fear of displeasing the Princess, he sent a Knight to the Countess of Palomera, with order, that having on his behalf saluted her, he should pray her (in his name) to kiss the hands of her Lady the Princess, and to tell her, that seeing the gods had now freed her from her enemies, he waited only to receive her commands, whereon depended both his stay and departure, wishing that in the mean time some course were taken for the re-edifying the walls, whereto he would cause his Ghing put their helping hands, especially on the outside which had most need of, being assured against the Ram-engines, and that if she needed soldiers, he would leave with her as many of them as she pleased. He enjoined him further, to go and visit Perseno, and to tell him that he had come himself to see him, but that he doubted to-incurre the Lady Princess her displeasure; with this Knight sent he him his own Physicians & Chirurgeons, with divers soveraigne-good things for wounded and sick men, causing all his to return to the galleys, without suffering them to pillage or touch any thing within the compass of the walls, although it were the spoil of the enemy's selves.  
Now the Countess (as soon as she saw Metaneone run in the Port, and the Princess, out of her agonies) had begun anew to persuade her to change her resolution, showing her, how she alone was the only cause of the death of so many Princes, whose fathers (in case they went about to avenge them as they had reason) would reduce her to such a straight, as she could not be able to defend herself long; telling her withal, that her vows tied her only to possibilities, but not to what could possibly not be accomplished. Besides, that she had already showed herself to the Prince of Mauritania, whose whole Fleet had seen her, as well as he. The Princess answered her, that she would follow her Counsel, and that she would for the execution thereof write to her father, to send to fetch her thence. And what will it boot you to do so? (said the Countess) seeing that ere your messenger can arrive in Maiorica, we shall be here besieged by all the King of Tingitana's, forces, whose aim will tend, not so much to the revenge of his sons, as to the gaining of this Rock, now that experience hath taught him (what he saw not before) the importance of such a Fort; which for good reasons was not fit to be left in the possession of a strange Prince. But how can I help it (answered the Princess) seeing I have no shipping. What have you not? (replied the Countess) whose then are the Prince of Mauritania's Galleys? They are his own (answered the Princess smiling:) but I know them to be yours (said the Countess.) And here unmasking the whole state of the business she related unto her the great love that the Prince of Mauritania bore her, and how at the request of the King his father, she was by her father promised him in marriage; with the History of Don Peplas●●, and all other passages to that purpose, except his secret coming by stealth into that house, which the Countess thought not good to make known unto her as yet, whilst her mind were so agitated with passions for the deceased Prince his death; which in that it could not be remedied, she should (as the Countess told her) strive to forget, and endeavour to restore herself to her father, kingdom, and (above all others) to a husband and posterity, to satisfy the world with reason, as she had before without any reason, justly incurred its censure.  
At these words the Princess stood mute, thinking it a strange matter for her to be changed in an instant, and being obstinately resolved to live without any husband, now should, or possibly could dispose herself to take one; but knowing that she could not but do so, her resolutions till then to the contrary, being neither good nor laudable, and that it was a lesser evil to cconfesse an error (being that there is no wise man but errs sometimes) than to make it the more unexcusable by defending it, she quite changed, or at least most resolute to change her intention, told her, that she marvelled she had not acquainted her with those things sooner, howbeit the reason (why she did not) gave her (in that behalf) sufficient satisfaction; her servants being afterwards come to certify her of Metaneone's conquest, and Don Peplasos his imprisonment, she having caused the Tower to be opened, made them carry Perseno near to the Countess her withdrawing-chamber, for whose wounds she grew so compassionate as they drew pearl-like tears from her fair crystal eyes. And understanding now that there was a Knight there sent from Metaneone, she sent to him the Countess, who having received the embassage, came and acquainted her therewith; whereunto Eromilia (after a short pause) returned this answer;  
Go and pray him to kiss his Lord the Prince's hand on my behalf, and to tell him that for the rest, I intent to answer to none but himself, for seeing that I am constrained to break my vow, I mean he shall be the man that shall break it, by seeing me first of any other, desiring him therefore to vouchsafe (so it be not troublesome unto him) to come hither himself. The exceeding joy the Countess hereat conceived cannot be expressed, who went herself to conduct the Knight with the Physicians and Chirurgeons to Perseno, whose wounds not being mortal, were with all diligence by them carefully looked unto; but the sovereign balm that cured him indeed was his Mistress her resolution told him by the Countess; so as having answered the Knight, as he was in respective duty obliged, he licenced him to return to his Master.  
Metaneone as soon as he understood this unexpected answer, would needs suddenly run up, but considering it to be then dinnertime, he thought best to defer it a little, when lifting up his eyes by chance, he saw the Countess, that beckoned to him to come up; whereupon (accompanied with a few, leaving all the rest below) he ascended the rock.  
The Princess made a show of believing that he coming from as far off as Sardegna (without touching land any where) was unfurnished of provision; and therefore seeing that he came not, had willed the Countess to call him; albeit she was by reason of the ruins and losses occasioned by the last great bickering deprived of the means of entertaining him any thing sumptuously. But that was not indeed the white her intentions aimed at, for the truth is, that the desire she had to see him was so great, as she had not the patience to stay till he came, she being now (upon the Countess her persuasions) totally changed from what she was before. Nor might this be said to proceed from inconstancy, seeing that she in all her actions manifested the contrary; than which it should rather be believed, that she being by nature endued with a constant inclination to whom she was to be married, loved Perosfilo, believing him to be the man, and in the error itself followed her natural inclination; but come in the end to see and know the vanity of her amisse-shed tears, the real blame she thereby justly incurred, the more than great evils and inconveniences that thereupon ensued, and withal how this Prince had served her, deserved her, and obtained her ere ever she knew him, she could now do no less than follow the instinct of her generous nature, which was to love him whom the heavens had appointed for her.  
Metaneone being come up, the Countess came to the gate to meet him, where she would have kneeled unto him, but that he permitted her not; howsoever she rapt with an extremity of joy, said unto him; A great good fortune was it to us (valorous Prince) to meet with your Highness, sithence thereon depended the safety of us all, who had else been twice lost ere this time. Nay rather, right fortunate was I (answered the Prince) in having been favoured with the occasion of serving my Lady the Princess in your person, who deserve to be served for your own sake. Whereto she with a respective obeisance replied; Your Highness knows well how to oblige too much; although I cannot have toomuch time to acknowledge your Princely favours. Vouchsafe (I beseech your Highness) to come in, and be joyful, for you shall find my Lady the Princess an altered woman, so as I am induced to believe that your Highness is the true Perosfilo: and here related she unto him succinctly, how she had acquainted her Lady the Princess of her being promised unto him in marriage. Mean while the Princess stood expecting him at her chamber-door, where come, he kneeled down before her, and with a reverend force taking her hand, kissed it with an observant affection; so as I know not whether his presence or carriage liked her best.  
Now Metaneone was (next Polimero) the best accomplished Cavalier of those times; and whereas he at first hated such courtesies as were peerless in Polimero, in whom he also disliked all other perfections; So now hatred being chased away, and love brought in, in its stead, there came running in with it (headlong as it were) all his brother's virtues (at least much resembling, if not of equal weight with them) as though they had been formerly violently and unnaturally excluded.  
The Princess offended with herself that she was not able to hinder him from doing such courtesies, would not heat him a word whilst he continued in that kneeling posture; but seeing his courage sufficed him not to utter one sole word (so wrapped was he with the he joy conceived in seeing himself in presence of her, who was the rich Cabinet, wherein lay stored all his best of happiness;) she, perceiving the cause of this silence, said thus unto him;  
Right excellent Prince, Let it not (I pray you) seem any wonder unto you, that I after so much time broke off now that deliberation which I once purposed constantly to observe during the remnant of my life. I beseech you not think me such, as being first ill-counselled by myself, am now at the persuasions of others, removed by reason of any natural levity; for if it so were, I would rather choose to continue unhappy (as I was before) than to re-acquire my former being, by running the hazard of an opinion somewhat what sinister as you in that behalf might conceive of me. I will pass over with silence all those reasons, (which as both yourself and any one else may easily judge) persuaded me to alter my course of life; but of one only (seen by none) will I make mention. And with this rising up to make him a low congey, she proceeded; This is the obligation and tie of duty I owe you, to conform myself thus to your will, which if my father hath thought fit for me to do, for greater reason have I to judge it so, and will do while life shall last. I thank you not, either for your past or present favours; sithence that you have now recovered that which the heavens had prescribed you, which being yours, and by you (as you manifest) beloved, the thanks you therefore owe, is to yourself. And with this (my Lord) I thought good to acquaint you, not so much for declaration of my obedience to the King my father, and expression of my gratefulness to you my benefactor, as that you might henceforwards (as sole Lord) dispose of our stay or departure, professing before all the world, that I will for ever hereafter, depend wholly on that honest, courteous, and discreet will of yours, that knew so well how to oblige me.  
The chamber was full of people, that thronged thither to see how their Mistress would behave herself, among whom were also the Knights that came with Metaneone, and she spoke somewhat loud of purpose that all might hear her.  
The Countess, with the other Ladies, when they heard her, burst out a weeping so tenderly, that Metaneone had much ado to hold from doing the like, so strangely was he surprised with an unexpected content, but very few were they, who shed not some tears for company with the women; whilst he offering to kneel down, but by her not permitted, returned her this answer;  
My ever-onely Lady, Nature that was so careful to create your Highness' singular, above all things else, should by its singularities assure you, that there is no judgement so clouded, as (considering your ways) can choose but knwo your actions to be completely perfect: and though it were possible that any such could be, yet should it be constrained to confess, that in you the very errors themselves are perfections; which steali● gwife accompanied you, and being ambitious of honour, and coverous of fame, changed both name and nature, being not (for all that) grafted, but only fastened to the boughs of the goodliest and perfectest tree, that ever the gods of husbandry for celestial deliciousness planted among the terrene ones of humane Paradise: For who could have known how to leave father, countery and Realm, without any blot of error, except your unparalleled self, who have even in erring abounded in a singular constancy, and incomparable worth of love, far surpassing all the constancies and merits of the world? Your Highness then should not doubt, but rather confidently believe, that you shall thereby reap the more praise, in that so praiseworthy an error cannot sufficiently be prized, which I repute to be more perfect, because its sole perfections having invited me, it of itself so ravished me, as I being really transformed into a sweet error, cannot (without error) call myself more mine own. Now for that it pleaseth your Highness to make me happy, by seconding the Will of the King your father, I have not words to express my thankfulness, nor effects to serve you comformable to your merit, only there remain in me a desire and a will to both. And because your Highness merits all that is good, too too blame were I, if after having given, what else was mine; I detained from you these that are yet left me. Accept them then I beseech you to make me will and desire, if it be your will that I may wish; and your desire that I may desire; who account myself no other than the obedient executor of your commands, and in that right happy, since fortune hath raised me to so high a pitch, as to be thought worthy to serve you.  
The Princess, who had now converted her widdowly moan into fresh tears of conjugal affection, joyful of having acquired so courteous a Prince, would not leave him unreplied unto with a gentle correspondence of courteous thankes-yeelding; which ended, and the hour of dinner a good while passed, they sat them down with better content, and more consolation in the straightness of that Rock, than others of their rank and eminency would have done among the superfluous variety of royal Palaces.  
Needs would the Prince (as soon as he had dined) go see Perseno, whom the Princess also favoured with the same honour, where after some grateful passages, they had no time to discourse of aught else than of their departure, which somewhat troubled Eromilia's mind, for not knowing how to dispose of the Rock. But the Prince (who well knew the Tingitanan Kings ambition, and how that such a place well fortified, might curb him at any time) resolved not to abandon it at any hand; so as their departure was deferred for no other cause, than for the refabricking of its ruins, and hewing the rock in such a contrived manner, as no engines might approach it, which in few days was dispatched, by the helping hand of the Galley-slaves, who laboured thereabout every one his share. The Princess would have him leave some of his to govern it, whereto he would by no means condescend (deeming it as yet unbeseeming him so to do;) but prayed her to leave there for Commander Perseno, the rather, because he being grievously wounded, could not choose but grow to be in worse plight with the motion and rolling of the sea: the Prince himself sending to Orano (a frontier city of his state) for all things requisite for him to assure that hold against a long siege, promising him withal (in private) that in case it pleased him not to stay there, he himself would procure his father in law, to send him a successor, gratifying him in the mean time with large rewards of honours and revenues from Mauritania of his own things pertaining to his principality. Things reduced to this head, he embarked himself with the Princess and all her family, steering on a direct course for Maiorica.  
Now Eromilia had by Metaneone's counsel (ere she parted) caused the Brother-Princes to be fished up, whose bodies she sent embalmed in two coffers, to the Lord of Velez with the two remaining Galleys, together with the full relation of the fact, (whereof he was before sufficiently informed) praying him to send them to the King of Tingitana their father, not without expressing her being sensible of the violence done her in their Dominions, and in a place purchased of the Governor himself; whereto he dissemblingly answered, That the Princes came to no other end, than to defend and rescue her, having understood by their spies the designs of the Princes of Andaluzia and Granada. And that if one of them endeavoured to force the Rock, it was for the discourteous language given him by the Captain of her Garrison.  
In the same manner were the bodies of the other two Princes, together with their Galleys, consigned to such of their men as remained alive; thereby to take away all pretext of grievances; advertising thereof, besides the Courts of sundry Princes by particular letter, expressing the manner of the fact, to the end that the truth might be every where known. Only Don Peplasos was reserved to his wife's determination, being deemed unworthy to enjoy the prerogative of a Prince, or honour due to a Knight, for being culpable of two faults, and in each of them two several times guilty, after having for his first offence in the one and the other, obtained pardon; offences of a base mind, an impious heart, and mischievous affect; and against that sex, which nature made pious, that it might even of cruelty itself obtain pity; yet he, more cruel than any cruelty, moved with a barbarous avarice of Tyrannical ambition, had twice attempted the death of chaste Eleina, to deprive her, both of life and honour, and to make her twice miserable, with the rape of the gentle Eromilia; besides, his ingratitude towards the King of Maiorica, and Prince of Mauritania, who albeit they knew his ill intention, yet (because they thought it impossible for him to fall into relapse of so foul and enormous a fault) had both set him at liberty, and honoured him. In such a fashion was his Indictment framed, not by notaries, upon the testimony of two or three; nor written in fragile papers, but in his own conscience, approved by the deed itself, made notorious by the attestation of all that part of the world, and registered in the most tenacious memories to be conserved for a perpetual tradition to posterity, to the horror, not so much of the good, as of the mischievous; that, as fame is the reward of the well-doer, so infamy might be a punishment to the ignominious liver.  
The Prince (as we have said already) had six Galleys of his own, besides those four of Catalogna, which he assured from running away, by intermingling the Ghing together, so as they being first well armed, and then assured with the exchange of Galley-slaves, he assured them yet better with soldiers, and the family of the Princess; whom with her Ladies, he lodged in his Galley Royal, serving her by day, with the greatest respect that could be, and at night retiring himself into the Admiral of Catalogna, for commodiousness and burden little inferior to his.  
More joyful was Eromilia at this her parting, than at her coming, telling the Countess that she now found it by experience to be true, that violent infirmities cannot be otherwise cured but by conformable remedies; confessing that but for the continuance of those dangers that gave her a true feeling of her then being, it had been impossible to free herself of her melancholy, and to be persuaded to return whom: but now by seeing, with admiration every day more than other, the Prince's discreet manners and behaviour, the love of him living, served as a wedge to knock out of her mind the memory of the other deceased.  
Their Navigation was short, and favoured with gentle winds, yet to them seemed it far shorter than indeed it was, for that the joy which their hearts conceived of their amorous conversation, made the hours and days run faster, all things appearing unto them, with an aspect more grateful. And indeed darkness itself lets happy men see its shadow more pleasant, if not less darksome, and the heavens that seem to threaten troubled hearts, do sport and play with the contented.  
Before Eromilia was assailed of any one, there was muttered a certain murmur in Maiorica, that she was assieged and in danger to be lost. Great enquiry was made to find out the Author thereof, who could not for all that by any possible means be known; there being not any vessel or shipping, arrived from any where, so as the King (who was wise) thought it could not choose but be true, deeming it some natural effect of the number of those, for which no reason can be given; remembering he had read, that a great King being slain, the fame of his death fore-ranne the fact, a full moneths-time; which albeit it had its reason, that there were many in sundry places, that were privy to the conspiracy, which being to be effected from moment to moment, and yet not executed, made such as were farthest off, think it done indeed; whereon ensued the fame of giving out that for done, which was to be done; nevertheless he wanted not other examples free from this opposition, whereby he came to know, that there be invisible channels of reciprocal correspondency between minds separated by place, but conjoined by natural sympathy, by means whereof the one comes to receive light from the other. Hence proceed the buzzing of the ears, the palpitation of the heart, dreams, apparitions of seeming spirits, sudden melancholy in evil, and sudden joys in good, whereof we know no reason at all; but howsoever it be, the King believing the common rumour to be the effect of an effect to it conformable, in a short time set in order a Fleet of ten Galleys, and of many of such ships, as he found riding in the ports of his kingdom; whereof he leaving the government to the Queen his wife, embarked himself, resolved to free his daughter from danger (if she were in any) and if in none, to free her from any further suspicion thereof, by conducting her home again; but seeing he lost time, by encountering for the most part with contrary winds, he resolved (leaving the ships behind) to make onwards with the Galleys; nor was he gotten ten miles wide off them, when he descried ten Galleys, steering aright course towards him, whose they might be, whether friends or foes, he could not imagine; but his prudence inclining to suspect the worst, made him prepare to fight.  
This King was somewhat strucken in years, but yet a lusty old man, with a body enured to suffer, and nerves hardened with the continual exercise of the sling, (a weapon more used in those Lands, than in any other part in the world;) wherefore he (armed at all pieces) with a courageous and joyful countenance heartened and cheered up his men to behave themselves valiantly.  
Neither of the Fleets shrunk back, but held on their courses in a right direct line, the one against the other.  
Metaneone thinking them to be enemies in that he took them for some Catalans, that went with these new forces to find out their Prince, set out his Standard of war, resolved to use them as barbarous savages.  
The Princess, who till now (to her passingcontent) stood beholding the pleasantness of the calm sea, and listening to the music, which the waves (like a second choir) made at the stroke of the oars, finding now her pleasure corrupted with the fear of the Fleet that came towards her; and beseeching the Prince to retire himself, could not choose but grieve thereat, her heart telling her, that to fight then, was a resolution taken contrary to all reason.  
Both Fleets were now come somewhat near, without knowing one another, when having fitted their hatches, they manned their Frigates from either Fleet to discover each other; come to know the banners, and to hail one the other; it cannot be credited with what an extraordinary fleetness they sped each back to his Lord.  
When Metaneone heard of the King of Maiorica's being there, he ran to the chamber to acquaint therewith Eromilia, who abounding in tenderness of affection, returned up again to see her father. The Prince, intending to conduct her to him, caused a Frigate to be covered to shade her from the Sun, which then was most violent and scorching hot. But the King mounting on the selfsame vessel, which brought him the news, that his daughter was a convoying homewards by the Prince of Mauritania (not standing on any terms of ceremony) went on all alone towards the Royal. Whilst Metaneone (on the other side) boarding his Frigate, launched out to meet him, saluting him with such a respective reverence as he could not have used greater towards the king his father, go in to kiss his hands he would not for doubt of interrupting his content of seeing his daughter, but followed him near at hand. Before the King arrived at Eromilia, he saw her oftentimes saluting him with submissive inclinings; but come to embrace her, he had not the power to sever himself from her, his royal gravity not being sufficiently powerable to withstand the motives of his spirits, in such an encounter. Eromilia wept, nor did he less, and if the respective consideration of seeing the Prince stand on side of him, had not somewhat enlightened him, he was not likely to be soon disenveloped out of the passions of his fatherly affection: whereupon leaving her, without having had the power to speak one word unto her, he ran with his, as yet bedewed eyes, to embrace Metaneone; who kneeled to him to kiss his hand; but he obstinately striving to get him to stand up, debarred them of the time to express each to other, otherwise than superficially, the joys they conceived for the happiness of this encounter, for retiring to Eromilia, and causing her to sit on one side of him, and Metaneone on the other, (after he had received the Countess with the other Ladies that kissed his hand) he lifting up his eyes, thanked the gods that had granted him this joy, relating unto them the occasion of his coming. The Princess (marveling thereat) told him, that his opinion was not false, acquainting him with all that had happened, and how that, but for Metaneone's coming, she had remained a prey to Don Peplasos. Then Don Peplasos (said he) came to steal you away again? He came indeed (answered Eromilia) and we have him prisoner in that Galley there. The King somewhat musing thereat (turning towards Metaneone) said unto him; And you (my noble son) how happed you to arrive so opportunely to rescue Eromilia? On this Metaneone related unto him all that befell him sleeping, whereof though he had already informed Eromilia, yet forbore she not to marvel thereat anew. He told them how the vision was reiterated; himself being not deceived in having seen, talked, and walked; that being parted without staying till day came, it pleased the gods to favour him, in conserving unto him by their piety, what his Majesty had out of his Royal courtesy bestowed on him; for which he now kissed his hand, being not permitted to do it before. The King embracing him, and glancing a look on Eromilia (who though she blushed, yet meant not to deny her consent) thus replied;  
Sithence then the heavens will, that she be yours, who have now two several times acquired her, so as I am (for that sole respect) obliged to give her you, I beseech you to believe, that if I had not already bestowed her on you, I would most willingly give her you, only for your merits sake. For which he, kissing his hand again, and discoursing with him a good while about the dream, desirous at length to leave him all-alone with his daughter, rose up with an excuse to go salute the Barons of Maiorica.  
Glad was the King to see the alteration of his daughter, and the humility wherewith she craved his pardon for her past disobedience, delighting to know of her more particularly all past successes, together with the manner of the fortification of the Rock. Arrived afterwards to his ships he might see them turn stern; so confused were they to see so many Galleys fall towards them so suddenly and unexpected, but come to know what they were, they tacked about to accompany them, arriving with the others all together in Maiorica with as much joy to the Queen, and all the kingdom, as may be imagined at a return so unexpected.  
There were arrived also in Maiorica the two Galleys that came from the Pegno, who were not so fortunate as to meet the King, in that they happened to pass one night a good distance wide off him, and now (having provided themselves of such men as they wanted) they road prepared to return to the Pegno, when the Fleet arrived.  
Metaneone would not defer the nuptials of his Eromilia, albeit he desired to have them solemnised in the presence of Polimero and his father's Ambassadors; but considering how he stood employed in an enterprise, which he could not so soon rid his hands off, he thought it sufficient to advertise him thereof, sending him back again the six Galleys, and those four of Catalogna, with four others, that the King would needs send Eromena, writing unto her that he would have sent her more, but that he doubted of some accident, because of Don Peplasos, who was directed to Eleina to be by her disposed of, as she thought good. Metaneone sent also to Mauritania to his father the news of his adventures, and also of his marriage, to receive from him order of his stay in Maiorica, or coming with his wife to Rirsa, who in the mean while stayed there to consolate her parents and kingdom with her presence.  
The Galleys (being once departed) sailed on with a smart gale to Sardigna-wards with Don Peplasos by this time fully cured of his wounds, who observing himself excluded from the sight of the King of Maiorica, where he had been, and of Metaneone, who had taken him prisoner, and sent him to his wife (by him so unworthily and inhumanely used) he well perceived there was no account made of his quality, and therefore oftentimes proffered to kill himself; but being prevented of his purpose by the diligent custody of such as guarded him, he bethought himself of a way of deceiving them, by changing apparences, and showing himself less altered, and with a more quiet mind, taking on him to desire what he most abhorred, which was the sight of Eleina. Whilst then the Galleys (one morning ere Sunrising, by the favour of a strong Western gale) glided on a main speed, there discovered itself within kenning the Island of Sardegna, whereat the Ghing gave a joyful shout, crying, (Land, land) which as soon as Don Peplasos heard, he called for his clothes, and having put on a chamber-weede, made a show of being desirous to take the air, and to refresh himself with the sight of the shore, after his being overtired with his long sojourning at sea; come up on the hatches, he stood still awhile beholding the Island, then walking a turn or two, seriously musing, and standing with his face towards the ladder of the Galley, he suddenly let fall off his gown, and leaving therewithal his slippers, leapt down into the sea, with such an unexpected suddenness, that he was plunged therein, ere any one was aware of his intention: whereupon the sails were strucken down with great fury, but to little purpose; for the Galley being run onwards above two miles, ere the sails could be taken in, or the longboat hoist out; (the Frigate of the Royal happening then to be sailing before the Fleet.) The lewd-lifed Prince was drowned ere he could be succoured: his body was found floating on the sea, and swollen with water, which brought aboard, was laid under hatches, to the great discontent of the Admiral, who was very sorry that he could not deliver him to Eleina in the same state as he received him. But now (seeing the accident remediless) they having placed him with his head downwards, to empty his body of the water, afterwards covered it with a beere-cloath of black velvet, bearing that respect to his lifeless corpses, for having been those of a Prince, which he deserved not living, having lead a life unworthy of a Prince.  
Arrived in Porto Torre, they found not the Fleet there, and understanding how that it was passed into Corsica, they also with favourable winds crossed over, bathing their anchors (by the waxing brown of the evening) in Portoficari.  
The End of the Fifth Book.   

CAVALIER GIO: FRANCISCO BIONDI HIS EROMENA  
The Sixth Book.  
SOmewhat pensive remained Polimero after his brother's departure, not well approving of such resolutions as are built on the slippery foundation of dreams; but seeing that it lay not in his power to remedy it, he with the rest of his company, returned to Sassari; whilst Eromena, growing more and more ardent in her love, and buring with its violent flames, solicited the Corsan expedition, thereby to rid herself the sooner of the time interposed between her and the conclusion of her desires. The King desirous to consolate himself with her presence, oftentimes importuned her return, but she resolved to bring first the wars to a period, comforted him with her letters, acquainting him with the Council necessarily concluded on for the establishing, by the conquest of the Corsan kingdom, a perpetual peace in Sardegna, assuring him that the war could not long last, the enemies wanting a head to guide them, now whilst the enfeebled body was not able to support itself; which indeed even just so succeeded, for she (embarking her forces, and crossing the sea) brought down in less than four months time, the innate pride of the high-soring Corsan spirits, which (for all Polimero's great exploits) she could not have so performed, if they had either had a Captain, or not wanted those that remained dead in Sardegna.  
Now Eromena was at Tolmido's arrival in Sagona, accompanied with the Princess Eleina, who could not be dissuaded from following her, both of them delighting every day more and more each in the others conversation; and in Eleina were every day more than other new wonders of alteration discovered, for that her studies having given her a perfect knowledge (as much as imperfect disciplines can give to true perfection) made her capable of taking delight in every thing.  
Passing joyful was Polimero of Tolmido's coming, who having read his letters ran to the Princess to present her with hers, whence they went both together to Eleina; who (good Lady) understanding the miserable case of her husband, stood somewhile mute thereat, whilst her watery eyes were not sufficient to retain her tears, for so much as a generous heart cannot choose but grieve for another's misery, especially for that of such, with whom it formerly held any communion of amity; see his body she would not, nor the place where it lay, but besought Eromena to be pleased (for her sake) to send it to his father in Catalogna, which was accordingly performed in a Galley painted all-over with brown, with sails and tackle of the same colour. But Catascopo would she at any hand retain for the manifestation of her innocence before her father in Arelate; whom Polimero (curious to hear the rest of this story, requested also thereto by Eromena, and Eleina herself) caused to be brought in before them, where he (despairing of being saved, now that he understood of his Master's end) thus said unto him; Most valorous Prince, I now see in myself what I have a thousand time observed in others, that of things not good the end was ever the worst; wherein Princes themselves are not privileged, since that mine, for falsely accusing his wife the first time, reaped nought else from it but shame; and for endeavouring to make her away the second time, was by his own conscience pricked on to make away himself; the gods having miraculously saved her, to save together with her life her never blemished honour. And I (well may I say, most wretched I) drawn on with the sweetly alluring bait of vain ambition, (after having betrayed a Master, than whom I could not have desired a better) see myself now likely to end deservedly my days, with some kind of unusual and ignominious death. Now touching what your Highness commands me concerning the entire Story of the Lady Princess Eleina, I will willingly obey you, without either concealing what may serve for the clearing of her innocency, or excusing myself in any thing that might lighten or extenuate my fault. Here related he all that Eleina herself had told them before, till the instant of her swooning, continuing the narration of the rest, with these words;  
The Prince before his departure, gave me order to go my ways before him, to spy out a fit place to kill and bury in the Princess; to the end that when her body could not be found by any, we might boldly give out, she was run away with Calaplo; I went, but because the places near the Temple were indifferently frequented with Priests and Pilgrims, I was fain to go a good distance wide off it, ere I could find a place for the purpose. I had with me two (I know not whether I should term them soldiers or executioners) sure cards to the Prince; whom he was wont to make use of for the taking away of the lives of many. Wherefore he thought he might well trust those, who charged with the burden of a thousand offences, had no other stay on earth than his countenance, nor could he indeed choose but make use of them, being that he would not himself, nor saw me willing to strike that bloody blow; I then, and those fellows with disguised clothes and false beards followed the Prince afar off (being by me first informed of the place) when she fell in a swoon, whither he called us, and would needs have her slain in that very place; but there being not so much as a handful of earth to cover her body withal, he knew not what to do; yet because it behoved him to resolve of some course, he made us continue to carry her towards the place appointed, looking always round about him, to see if he could espy any other fit for that purpose. But we, going on a slow pace, by reason of our burden and difficulty of the stones; he both weary and vexed with impatience told us, he was not able to follow us any further, and therefore would (lest his absence might give cause of suspicion) return back again, leaving to our charge the execution of the business. Which said (I know not whether it was to necessitate us not to let her live or otherwise) he himself cut off her clothes from under her gown, stripping her of them all, without leaving her as much as stockings or shoes; telling us that he did it, lest there remained any token to know her by, in case the body were by any means discovered. But the very act of seeing so naked a Princess of so great merit (innocently condemned to lose both life and honour,) stamped such a compassion in the cruel minds of those two murderers, that as soon as the Prince was gone, they so gazed one the other in the face, as if their new affect had been written in their foreheads, each of them with half-pronounced interrogations, expecting when his fellow would speak.  
We held on our way a good while without losing sight of the Prince, in that we descended, and he ascended, making many a stand, to behold the progress of our journey, of us diligently continued; but the two (not able to dissemble any longer) told me flatly, that they would not imbrue their hands in the blood of that Innocent Princess. The same, my friends (said I) is also my desire; but what shall we do then? If we leave her in the plight she is in, she will die of herself, if she be not dead already; which if she be not, how shall we do to save ourselves? That thought troubles not us (answered they;) If we return, we are sure to come to some ill end or other, for the Prince will never think himself safe whilst we live partakers of a business of such importance, and will therefore cause us to be slain, when we think least of it; do you therefore what you please with the Princess, and tell the Prince what you list of us, for we are most resolute never to return more to Catalogna: at which word they would have laid down their burden; but I beseeching them not to leave me so alone, they were contented to listen unto me, having in former times received of the Prince (through my hands) rich presents and great sums of money, which made them think themselves therefore somewhat obliged unto me. I cannot (said I to them) but commend your resolution, seeing it opens me the way to satisfy the compassion. I have of this Princess. What I desire is, that (she & you being safe) I may also without danger return to the Prince, being that I have not with me means to live elsewhere, as ye have. Whereupon many things were proposed, but none resolved of; when espying four mountain Swains or hillie-men, coming with a chair made of light wood, wherewith they had carried down some one, we thought best to lay therein the Princess; but they, seeing a woman in such a plight, and so clothed in such a place, and among such men, refused to obey us; till at length constrained, partly by menaces, and partly by fair promises, they took her up, and carried her between them so main a pace, that we (though disburdened) had much ado to follow them; who ask us afterwards whither we would go? Forth of all habitation, said we. By that time it grew to be night, found we ourselves a great way distant from whence we parted from the Prince; having with us (being men for such a piece of service well provided, for having no need of an Inn) bread, wine, and other good things, wherewith we kept our men in breath, who come to the ●oote of a great mountain among other lesser ones; we thought it best to lay down our burden in a solitary place, and there to murder them for their pains: then made we as thought we meant to pay these country fellows, yet (being unwilling, I know not wherefore) to kill them in that place; the presence of the Princess (by us reputed for dead, there having not appeared in her any sign of life all that day long) carrying with it a strange unthought of reverence, we walked on with them, one of us taking on him to open his purse, and I, ask the name of that mountain, and the way to the next place of habitation, till come a good way off, we killed three of them, every one of us his man, which booted us not much, for that the fourth escaped, making us to follow running after him a great way thence, nor could we have possibly overtaken him, if his ill fortune had not (by causing him to stumble at a great stone) made him burst one of his legs, whereby we came easily to dispatch him away. This cruelty could not we (especially myself) by any means forbear to execute, because our apparent qualities, and habits, with a woman so stripped half naked, and taken for dead, were sufficient motives to stir up curiosity in any one, to pry into our actions, learn them out, and report them. Returning backwards, it was not possible for us to find out our first path; so as weary with the tediousness of our long day's journey, we sought out for a place to hide and repose ourselves in, that night in the thickest of the mountain, with order, that whilst two of us slept, the third man should watch; but so far were every of us from taking any rest that night, that even that reposing ourselves tormented and wearied us more than all the former day's toil; whereby I came to know it to be true, that mischievous deeds are of themselves both executioners and tortures; so as I that never knew what testimony of conscience meant, when I betrayed Don Eleimos, began to have now a feeling of it. For of that (because there followed it no danger of life, and that I thereby obtained the benefit of the Prince's favour) I made small reckoning; judging that as a wicked Prince makes slight account of any inconvenience that stands between him and a Sceptre, so ought also a Courtier to arrive to the height of favour, esteem dissimulation, fraud and mischief, as prudence and good counsel. But the comparison in this case was too too different, in respect of the quality of the person, the project not treating of, nor tending to the precipitating of a man down from the top of his fortune, for the settling of myself in his place, but to the murdering of an Innocent Princess; from whose death I was like to gain nought else than perpetual suspicions, assuring myself (considering the nature of the Prince) that I could by no means long shun my fatal ruin; and that he would never rest till he had freed himself of such as were privy to this so important a secret, which made me grieve that I had not with me my jewels, or so much money as might suffice me to accompany the resolution of the other two. But now the day appearing, there was not one amongst us, that knew whether to go, since that to return to the Princess was but lost labour, so as the thought thereof was of us already abandoned; for their parts, they were resolved never to come, where any news might be heard of them; but I (whom avarice and ambition had deprived of all good counsel) was exceeding sorry that I knew not how to return back to the Prince, and doubting lest some mischief would befall me, if it should be known that the Princess were not dead; I resolved at length to return back again howsoever, and to affirm for certain that she was slain, and then to take away with me such coin and jewels as I had gotten and stored together, partly of the Prince, and partly of others for procuring them his favour; wherewith I made account to live the remnant of my days commodiously, if not richly without being beholding to any man. Which plot of mine communicated unto the others, and by them approved of; we parted thence, toiling ourselves to find out some kind of path, which we had never lighted on, had we not descried afar off one a foot, who descending the mountain, and coming towards us was without spying us, discovered by us. When I, strait knowing him to be Calaplo, was thereof exceeding joyful, deeming it the happiest encounter that could possibly betide me; for I (knowing the cause of his going away, being myself the man that hatched the invention of sending him packing in that manner) hoped to bring the Prince good news of his being slain, (for we having at first concluded to deal so with him, did not execute it, for not multiplying of too many Ministers in the fact, and by consequence of dangers in discovering him, the rather in that we hoped, that he would for fear have kept himself secret.) Imparting the business unto my companions, they resolved to murder him, not so much to serve and please thereby the Prince; as for love of the jewels and coin which I told them he had about him. Wherefore as soon as we got to the path, we dogged him without being able to overtake him almost all the day long; In the end passing down a deep steepy bottom, and getting up another mountain, he held not on his way one hours' space, till he stood still, so as we might at our pleasure overtake him; and (coming stealing-wise upon him for fear of being espied) we might perceived him talk with some body afar off, and in his speech hear him say (Your Highness) which gave us cause to imagine it was the Princess he spoke to; there we set upon him unawares, but found him so valiant, that (what by retiring, and defending himself) were could never come once to fasten a blow on him, the difficulty of the mountain's steepiness, serving him for a great advantange. And I, in the mean while, seeing how he had with a main downright blow cloven the head of one of my two companions, thought it my best course to leave him hand to hand with the other: their death little importing my ends, which was the life of the Princess, or rather my own, which without her death could not subsist: it grieving me too much to leave in an instant the fortunes of the Court, by me only assayed, but not fully tasked. Thus was I flattered by ambition, which prevails more in an upstart, than in one (that being borne there) hath it hereditary from his ancestors, and from the nobleness of blood.  
Being freed then from that pity which was instilled in me by my companions, I got me to the place where I had before seen Calaplo, to assure myself whether the same was indeed the Princess, or that I was deceived; where I saw it was she indeed, and she also might well have seen me, if hindered by her weeping, she had not in drying her eyes covered them with the sleeve of her gown, her good husband not having left her any thing else to dry them withal. The seeing her then in such a plight bred in me such a compassion, as made me (quite contrary to my intended resolution) desire to comfort her; but remembering how she would never have either believed or trusted me; and that it was better to go and find her out, crave her pardon, bring her back to her father in safety, and there leave her; I descended the hill; but could by no means possible (for all my rambling about) ever find her out; so as at length (having also sought her the day following to no purpose) I resolved to set myself on the way of my return.  
The Prince in the mean time had in this tragedy played his part with exceeding great artifice; for returning to the Temple dropping wet with sweat, making a show of being (as he was indeed, though for a different cause) profoundly afflicted, sent folks to search all there about, for his wise; taking on him to fear, that she (losing her way) were devoured of some wild beast; he sent first of all to the Inn to know if she were retired thither. But the Knight that was left there with the sick woman coming thereupon up to the Temple, and acquainting him how that Calaplo had been there to fetch away the waller, he began to display and ground on that act of his, some token of suspicion; but when such as were sent abode returned without any news of her; then told he them openly that he could believe no less, than that she were run away with Calaplo, which he knew how to represent so feelingly, with such natural affects both of grief and disdain, that the Knight (whose imagination never dived to the depth of so foul a treason) could not otherwise choose than be of the same opinion; nor could it indeed be otherwise conceived of any, except of such as lighted pat on the very truth; seeing that neither blood, nor any relic of any limb of hers could possibly be found any where; albeit the mountain was (for three days continuance) searched all over with most exquisite diligence. Besides that (in that part so well frequented) was never seen any savage beast, much less was it ever heard that any one was ever slain or hur there. The Prince with this occasion came to be discovered (for so would he have it,) to the end that the fame of the accident might forerun his arrival in Barcelona, and so for being afterwards conformably confirmed by him, be the better credited; which indeed succeeded him every way answerable to his expectation.  
The King well deeming that his heavy-hearted son had need of comfort, sent of the gravest and wisest of the Realm to meet him; when he taking on him to be uncapable of any comfort, spoke and did things with such an extreme compassion-meriting passion, as there was not any that grieved not for his grief. For albeit by the qualities of the Princess, there was no reason to believe, that any such a resolution could ever be fostered in her, yet could he so cunningly dissemble, that for some while he blinded the best sighted and most penetrating eyes. My return was near about the same time as his, though a little sooner, for so had we before agreed on. When I, in taking on me at Court to have never heard any thing of these passages, in wondering at such an accident, in making as though I could not believe it, and in such other circumstances, wanted little of going beyond my Master himself, yet to him told I that we had buried her a pikes depth under ground, satisfying withal the rest of his demands at full, I having studied by the way how to make answer to all whatsoever he could ask me: but he that now could find no more in his heart to fix his eyes on me (my very presence upbraiding him of the foulness of his fault) never spoke to me more one word thereof.  
Soon went I about preparing myself for my flight, when he feigning to have heard some inkling of the Princess, went suddenly aboard a Galley, so as I was fain to do the same; where we were scarce settled aboard her, whenamong the Knights and Ghing was spread a rumour, that we were bound for Africa to steal away the Princess of Maiorica. Of this good plot knew I nothing, for the Prince beginning to grow cold in his favours to me-wards, favoured another (perhaps) worse yet than myself, at least in that behalf, that he could not conceal a secret, wherewithal his Lord trusted him; which he telling in confidence to a friend of his, and that friend again to another, soon occasioned our almost utter ruin.  
We encountered (as it pleased the gods) by the way the Prince of Mauritania (your Highness' brother) with whom the matter past ill for us. In that fight remained I wounded, endeavouring either to die or regain the Prince's favour; not with an intention to enjoy it long, but only to assure myself thereof, till such time as opportunity presented me occasion and place to run away; it grieved me exceeding that I say so wounded as I was not able to help myself, now that I might have made use of so fit an occasion for my purpose.  
The King of Maiorica (after the departure of the Prince of Mauritania) considering how little it stead him to detain in that sort Don Peplasos, and too withal that sithence he was to set him at liberty, his fairer course was to do it, with giving him as little disgust as possibly he could, (after he had given his daughter notice of it, thereby freeing her from danger, in case Don Peplasos resolved to return thither again) he went himself in person to visit him, referring it to his own choice whether he would go or stay. Whereupon he as soon as he had dispatched himself thence having by making by the way enquiry, easily found out the Author of the rumour spread abroad, caused him (in his own presence) to be hanged up by the main yard. Arrived at home, scarce were his wounds cicatrized or begun to close up, when he (on the same pretext as before, with an excuse that his wife was retired to Pegno della morte,) embarked himself; taking with him four Galleys, whereon it behoved me to mount aboard too, (wounded as I was) resolved to run away (at any hand) as soon as we should be landed in Africa. Where what afterwards befell us, is already known unto your Highness: whom I humbly beseech to intercede some remission for me, since that it better beseems the Lady Princess Eleina's royal breast to pardon, than it ill befitted my base heart to offend; protesting before the Immortal gods, that in all these evils, my offences shall never grow so high, that they left not rooted in my mind a feeling sorrow for having committed them, neither did I (as I hope for mercy) commit them out of any despite or malice, but merely for that ambition's sake, that hath in every man such power, in causing him to desire to engross to himself his Prince his favour, wherein we have no example left us of any man, that could ever yet (in that kind of avarice) content or temper himself.  
To these last words of his, Polimero could not without disdainful anger listen, and beholding him earnestly he excused Don Eleimo's judgement, for that Catascopo's countenance and demeanour was able to deceive the most penetrating & subtlest understanding. Once was he about to make him no answer at all, his person not meriting any, but observing to be there present, many of the principal Courtiers, he (desirous that this example might serve them for a document) thus said unto him;  
Catascopo, the History I hear of thee makes thee known to be unworthy of what thou cravest, especially those arguments aggravating thy fault wherewith thou pretendest to qualify it. Thou wouldst have the Princess Eleina pardon thee out of her ggreatnesse, what thou hast offended out of thy baseness; not considering how that Princes are obliged to punish malefactors, not to do sacrifice to their particular revenge, but for the public weale's sake, the people being much better bridled by example, than swayed by laws. Nor indeed can she, as a Princess justly pardon thee; for though that all her miseries had ended with her death, yet the mischiefs and miseries that had thereon ensued, or that may yet proceed therefrom between the Arelatan and Catalognian kingdoms, might or yet may be perpetual, with the death of thousands of innocents that might, or yet may perish by thy means. Moreover, thy being in the act itself sorry for having offended her, makes thee the more unworthy of favour; for it is no marvel if the blind fall that hath no body to lead him; or that a frantic man under the conduct of his corrupt imagination, throw himself down headlong from any precipie, but for one of a perfect sight to fall and refall so foully, and for one that hath a reflux of knowledge, and been admonished by conscience, to precipitate thyself so dangerously and wilfully as thou hast done, is a thing altogether prodigious; nor can a man judge otherwise of thee than that thou intendest whensoever thou didst any mischief to do it irrevocably without the consent either of reason or conscience, an evident signe of an accomplished malice, never to be repealed with any kind of good inspiration whatsoever; nor am I ever a whit induced to believe, that it was repentance which made thee, (when from on high thou sawest her drying her eyes with the sleeves of her poor gown) to think of succouring her, and of bringing her home to her father, for that was not an effect of a repentant spirit, but of a mind already vilified in the consideration of its proper danger that thou incurredst with thy Master, for the life thou couldst not deprive her of. And this made thee (thinking on thy own miseries) capable of that pity which thou hadst not whilst thou wast void of such impressions.  
Men of a shallow judgement, looking no farther than the appearances, take those to be virtues that are not, whereas the wiser sort examine the actions, distinguishing that which really is from that which seems to be. Which that it is so, thou mayst see by thyself, for thou betrayed'st not thy Master first but with premeditation; nor the Princess afterwards, but with deliberation, and yet passed there between these two treason plots, days and months; wherein thou hadst time to kindle the coals of charity towards the one and the other, if there had been remaining in thee any spark of virtue; but thou didst it not till thy foreseen misery joined with the danger, engendered in thee this adulterate pity, if it may be termed pity, and not rather baseness & diffidence of being able to save thyself any other way. Nay, I believe what is yet worse (nor can I believe otherwise of such an one as thou art) that thou (seeing thyself undone) thought'st with a new invention of malice to win her to be thine, after thou hadst lost her to herself, and to make the instrument of thy life and good fortune, her, whose death thou hadst complotted, & whose misery thou mean'dst to accomplish by taking from her her honour, to no other end than to oblige her unto thee with a strange kind of benefit directed wholly to thy own sole ends, which also might have accordingly succeeded thee, considering the noble inclinations of so excellent a Princess. But the gods permitted thee not to put that project in practice having destined for her safety other means than thy malicious pity, which because they in thee abhorred, they blinded thy eyes and clouded thy understanding, for finding her any more; nor doth thy last alleged excuse (that the ambition of the Prince his favour was cause of thy offence) decline any whit from thy other reasons; for if we ought not to do evil that good may come thereof, how can we excuse that evil whence springs another evil by many degrees greater?  
The impossibility thou inferrest of the never being of any man that could in such like ambitions contain himself, is most false; whereof though I yet granted thee that there were not any, yet will I never concede that there cannot be any such. A Prince his favour is acquired either by merits, or else by reason of the inclination of the Prince himself; and where merits are, there is seldom any great fortune, for they proceeding from virtue, those virtues cannot brook fortune, but disdain her means, and she again seeing herself so despised, scorns and contemns them; where inclination is, there resides fortune also, but diversely; for many Princes are good, & have good inclinations, but with them have they also their affects, which they will have humoured; yet should they not be therefore abhorred, seeing they are but men, nor should they be condemned or much blamed for choosing persons to their fancy and liking, so that the State suffer not thereby. True it is, that such as these shall be by so much the nearer a fortune, by how much the farther off they are from integrity, except when the Prince his mere liberality inricheth them out of his own, without prejudicing any other. But such as are called to favour to be instruments of the wicked to the ruin of the good (as thou wast) are not of this number, but of a third degree as detestable, for being in the extremity of evil, as is that of the good desirable, that marcheth in the fore-ranke of goodness; so as I believe that (among all men in the world) thou only art in that degree, and as such an one unworthy of either excuse or pardon.  
Much amazed remained Catascopo at this so rigorous though just judgement of Polimero, which ended, he was reconducted to prison where along time he continued without any hope of pardon or releasement.  
Eromena having passed over into Corsica and taken Bonifacio, marched on to Sagona which yielded itself to her mercy; with the same felicity tamed she the Talsines, acquired Telisano, the valley of Vasina, Giovellino with whatsoever other places are contained in Capo-Corso. Nebbio that was then the city and seat Royal made her some resistance, the Rebels being reduced thither, and most resolute to defend themselves till death; which they had performed, if the inhabitants had thereunto consented: which later weighing with themselves the loss they sustained by Polimero's valour, and considering withal how scant their provision was grown, yielded on reservation of the safeguard of their lives and goods: whilst the Rebels seeing the people so inclined, saved themselves by timely flight in Balagnia.  
In the mean time had Polimero (long before) sent the Count of Bona to the King his father, that he might (when he had given an account of his embassage in Maiorica) obtain an other for Sardegna, to demand in marriage for him Eromena, wherein he was with such expedition dispatched as Nebbio was scarce rendered up, when the Princess received letters from her father, with news of the arrival of an Ambassador from the King of Mauritania, about a business of so great importance as it necessarily required her personal presence, wishing her therefore to leave good order for the enterprise, and to high herself thither with all possible speed.  
Upon this Eromena, well knowing what the business was, though loath to part from her lover, posted away, leaving all the troops in his charge, taking along with her the marquis with the principal Commanders of the Camp, to the end that the whole honour of the conquest of Corsica might rest entirely his alone. Nor was she therein deceived, for Polimero (desirous to bring his enterprise to an end, and above all to get into his hands the Rebels) came before Balagnia so suddenly and unexpected, as they had no time to get out, as they made account to have done, any tentative of theirs serving them to no purpose, for that the city was walled round about, so as it was soon given up, and the Rebels consigned him alive. This done, he took Calui with all its territory, nor remained there now other than Genarca, which because of its being seated on the sea, had not so easily been forced, if he, by bringing thither the Fleet, had not constrained it to follow the fortune of the others. Afterwards having embarked the Rebels on the Mauritanian Galleys he commanded the Admiral to deliver them from him to the King. As soon as Eromena was come the King told her, the occasion for which he sent for her, was, for that the King of Mauritania had sent to demand her in marriage for his son Polimero. She (making as though the matter were strange to her) answered, that she would do what should be by the State thought fitting, referring herself wholly to the Council. Now those of the Council come with her from the Camp were fewer than those others of the Court, and approved of the marriage, acknowledging for chief of their side the marquis of Oristagnio. But the marquis of Bossa (being uncle to the Count of Montevero) endeavoured by all means to cross those nuptials, making with the kinsmen of the Rebels so strong a voice, as that but for the others authority, he had easily hindered it. His reasons were, the disparity of their years, his being without any patrimony, his having made many principal houses in the kingdom his enemies, with the imprisonment, and consequently the torture and death of so many Barons, which though it were done on a just ground, yet was not justice able to give every one satisfaction. And though that prudent Princes ought to aim their level at reason only when they reap no prejudice therefrom, yet if they see any likelihood of the contrary, then ought they to second the passions of their subjects, who being potent in a state might otherwise trouble it, they presupposing the justice done to the faulty, to be a general injury to their blood, whereof in respect of the number of such as were innocent, there should be a special care taken, not to contaminate the honour of some, in the punishing of some others. Nor can the government be supportable of a Prince brought in with the blood of so many, who for for being necessitated to lead a life full of jealous suspicions) cannot be beheld otherwise than with an evil eye by the kinsmen of such as were by him delivered up to the hangmau: that his Majeestie should consider not so much whether what was proposed were reasonable, as whether the same were profitable or no. And on the contrary; if the sole reason were for its being prejudicial to him; true it were that just Princes should desire the execution of justice, though the whole world came thereby to perish; but that this case required no such justice, for in denying Polimero the Princess, we (said he) neither wrong him, nor take from him aught that is his, whereas by giving her him, we should wrong the Realm by endangering it, and take from it what it its own by depriving it of its peace, there being many spirits that cannot brook the government of this Prince, though (I confess) in all other respects worthy.  
The marquis of Oristagnio could not without indignation hear out this Oration, wherein he discovered many heads of great consequence. Rising up therefore on his feet, and concealing to himself what he conceived of it, he answered to his objections. That the disproportion of years was not a disadvantage to be calculated between Princes, it bringing no prejudice to the main principal; which also if it were to be calculated should be rather objected on Polimero's side; that his being without patrimony was that which was of them to be sought after, to the end that his affection might not incline to any other state or country than that of Sardegna (here gave he then by the way a touch of his supplying the want of a patrimony by the conquest of Corsica, & of the obligation that the crown owed him therefore.) That the enmity he incurred with the Barons should serve & much avail for the amplifying of his deserts, so as he much wondered at their inducing for an exclusive argument, that which above all thing else expressed his worthiness; that the rebels kinsmen were known for Cavaliers of conditions so noble, as would not without any cause hate Polimero's person; and though they were such as would wish him ill, howsoever, yet had they no reason for his sake to hate the state, and so prefer their particular enmity before the public benefit; which if it so were not, and that therefore those nuptials carried with them some appearance of danger, yet should there not be thereof any reckoning made, seeing that Princes ought in every state to maintain the privileges of their dignity; which they do not when they lend an ear to all manner of privy whisperings, by listening whereto they come at length to be drawn to condescend to any thing, even to the putting down of the crown, and renouncing the government; or to bear the sceptre, and govern, not as a King, but as a subordinate magistrate depending on the will of others. True it was that the people ought to be harkened unto, & that in matters of law and justice, the Prince ought to part from his own opinions and cleave to better judgements; for which purpose were counsellors and counsels ordained, which were otherwise superfluous and vain; but yet that in matters absurd and unjust he ought to let them see, that he knows how both to conceive and punish offences; making it thereby appear to every one, that his taking of counsel sprang not from defect, but from excellency of judgement, which is to the nature of a Prince more particularly adherent, than any other condition whatsoever, that the punishing of the guilty was to be imputed no more to Polimero, than to justice itself; which if it should be therefore hated, then might we in such a case grant, that he might also with reason be stomached; that his coming to the principality could not prove insupportable to other than ill-minded men; his steps of ascending thereto being grounded, not on the blood of any of the nobilitiey and their demerits, but upon his own blood and well-known deserts; nor was it to be doubted that he would become suspicious, & so by consequence cruel, seeing that the rebels kindred either approved, or not approved of their misdeeds, which if they approved, they then made themselves accessaries to the same fault; if disapproved, they could not choose then but approve of their punishment; nor was it less strange to say that their honour remained blemished by the others punishment, as if we would beseech love not to let the Sun shine on any unclean thing, for fear of polluting itself therewith; but if they still insist, that their honour is thereby contaminated, let them then tell me what is in their judgement fit to be done, and whether the murdering of one's Prince, and betraying of one's country, merit impunity and reward? Furthermore he denied that the rule of just and profitable had the supposed distinctions, which though they had, yet could not that any way stead them for the present purpose. In fine, he concluded, that none but traitors could either refuse or oppose this match being both just and lawful, which he offered (besides arguments) to make good with the sword. Much amazement in the audience bred this resolute speech of Oristagnio; and little wanted the marquis of Bossa of being seconded, when he excusing his speeches with much humility, and the King being unwilling to be entangled with new garboils (fear occasioning such effects in him, as it useth to do in such as think by suffocating evils to make them shear away) the matter was whosht up with the conclusion of the marriage.  
Well perceived the Princess how her father erred with too much facility, but seeing it could not be remedied; she with Oristagnio's counsel resolved to call the prisoners to be put to death before the publication of the marriage, and return of Polimero, thereby to free him (as much as in her lay) from the imminent hatred of the Barons. That which in this design of hers troubled her most, was the person of Epicamedo; she balanced all those reasons that made him become worthy of death, with that one sole regal quality of his, which gave the scales such a shake, as it was impossible to find means or counter-reasons to condemn him. Most inconvenient seemed it also to proceed against him by a judicious way, as against private persons, by nature, law, and oath subject to the state. In deciding this point were many days consumed, with no few arguments of both sides. After which was resolved, that for one borne free, a King and a Sovereign, to live a prisoner, deprived of a kingdom, and subjected to the charge of a jaulor, was no small punishment: howsoever that his Realance was well gotten from him by the common rule of nature, which teacheth us to repel force by force, not so much by a title of war, as because it was a war begun by him, who became a refuge to traitors, an entertainer of rebels, and a fosterer of the murderers of Princes; with an example tyrannical and prejudicial to himself, if it had fortuned him to have continued in his royal estate: nor were all those dangers that were proposed to be likely to spring from the keeping of him alive, able to remove Eromena from her innate clemency; who only kept him secure under the charge of a faithful guard, whereof there was no great need; for he having understood of the loss of his kingdom, and of the resolution taken touching his person, grown furiously mad thereat, and wanting wherewithal to kill himself, ran his head at the wall with such a horrible force as he therewith dashed out his brains; for the others were prepared new ways of torture, as pinsers, shears, hot irons, and fires: but the Princess thereto consented not, leaving such inventions for hellish furies, contenting herself that they (though worthy of all torments) paid the law its due, and satisfied by example the necessity and public desire of justice, which was executed with so great a concourse of spectators as that the field was not capable to contain so great a throng. The Traitors dying all of them penitent of the offence, except the obstinate Admiral. In the mean time was the Count of Bona held in suspense (almost two montehs space) without receiving any public answer; being nevertheless well informed of its occasion, and sumptuously entertained. The news being afterwards come of the total possession of Corsica, and Polimero desiring there should be sent thither a Viceroy to govern it; a general assembling of the states of the kingdom, was resolved of, to which end came together the feodatories & deputies of every one of the Cities and Provinces. The first thing in that Parliament decreed, was the Prince's funeral exequys, which were celebrated with such an orderly pomp, as that they might with more reason be termed triumphs; there not appearing other lugubrious object, than the habit and affection to the deceased Prince. There were to be seen the representations and models of sacked cities, battles won, people tamed and vanquished, of Kings and Giants taken and led captives, of wild beasts trampled down, and monsters slain, the liberality used towards the vanquished; the giving of cities and whole kingdoms, not for avaricious but for honourable ends; the Virgins preserved and the women cared for: the dangers of the land and sea, voyages and discovering of new regions. In sum all whatsoever could in such a subject be imagined for the expression of his a thousand-fold happiness, if there had not (among so many ornaments of glory) violently been inserted in the minds of the beholders the occasion of his death.  
At the second sitting was in solemn form established the incorporation of Corsica to the kingdom of Sardegna, with a law of never alienating it more for any occasion whatsoever. Some there were that would have their laws and privileges quite abolished, but thereto would not the Princess abosolutely consent, thinking it best to see first how they demeaned themselves, who though conquered by force, should not be for that respect worse used than before; being fallen not through their own, but through their Prince's faultiness, whose remembrance should be defaced out of the people's hearts by good usage and continuation of favours; rather than by harsh usage, and withdrawing of favours to give them cause of endeavouring to regain their former freedom. As for the laws, she well knew their abolishing to be necessary, being that a body cannot be form of two souls, and those different; and would therefore have the Sardan laws serve for, and be common to both kingdoms; nominating the marquis of Oristagnio Viceroy of Corsica with general applause of the universal assembly.  
There being propounded afterwards at the third sitting the demand of Mauritania (not for obtaining of consent thereto, but to have it confirmed by counsel) upon recital of Polimero's merits, and of the conquest of Corsica there was not so much as one that gainsaid it.  
The marquis of Oristagnio parted suddely, to the end Polimero might come to celebrate the marriage. Now he had received daily intelligence from his Eromena, the marquis, and the Count of Bona, of all that was done in Sardegna, wherefore though he were desirous to dispatch himself thence, yet waited he with all patience, the orderly proceeding of his affairs, conformable to the necessity of the times, settling in the mean time the places he had gotten in such order, as they might be easily conserved; fortifying every place, whose site or necessity required it, having a special eye to the assuring of the ports, but chiefly to the remotest from Sardegna in the face of Liguria. So as when the marquis came, and found all things so well settled, he said, that Corsica might well be kept without his government; it being so well ordered, as it was impossible for it for a long time to fall into any disorder. Arrived in Sardegna, and as its Prince reverenced of every one, he came to Caleri, met with great pomp and extraordinary applause; where having kissed the King's hands, he would needs do no less to Eromena's also, the presence of the multitude prohibiting them to embrace one another according to their internal amorous affects, so as they greeted each other with outward appearances, according to the stile of convenient ceremonies.  
The King for all these rejoicings never once joyed at all, but the more he observed his son-in-law in his actions resemble his son, the more he felt his heart rend with the memory thereof, which he so loved, as for it he disloved every thing else not excepting himself.  
Polimero's first resolution was to licence the Mauritanian forces, wherewith he well pleased the whole kingdom; he re-sent them enriched with the pillage or Corsica, and therefore passing well contented, sending back also with them all the Fleet, except the Galleys, which he sent for Metaneone to come to his marriage; and he by entreaty of his father and mother-in-law, got leave to bring also along with him Eromilia. Having then shipped themselves (after they had by a Fleet-Galley sent their brother word of their coming) they sailed the two first days with prosperous winds; but were the two following greatly troubled with Southerly winds, so as they had much ado to keep in the main, from crossing over to the Gaulan cost. But the wind increasing and blowing with extraordinary fury, they having lost their direct course, were driven into the Lygustike sea, without being able to touch the Island of Corsica. The sweet Eromilia found herself heartsick, being unable to taste any sustenance; sore was she troubled with vomiting, so as having nothing in her stomach, she cast up the very pure blood, to the extreme grief of her husband, who would willingly have died rather than have seen her so languish. He had once hoped to come by some means or other to strike on the Corsan shore, but seeing himself transported beyond Capo-Corso, he commanded to take the wind in poop, and to run ashore on the nearest place of landing.  
Northward from that Cape stood a little disinhabited Isolet, where having with much ado cast anchor, they presently set ashore the Princess, who no sooner touched land, than that there came to meet her a white fawn, which gently licking her hands, seemed to kiss them for her welcome thither. No small delight took Eromilia to see so timorous a creature grown so domestic, so as forgetting her passed fears, she called for something to feed her withal; whilst she (gentle thing) taking the bread (as it were for good manners sake) out of her fair hand, and then letting it wantonly fall (as needing it not,) continued in cherishing her, and (as far as could be comprehended) in inviting her to go along with her, for having walked eight or ten steps she would look back, and seeing herself not followed would return again, doing oftentimes the selfsame thing.  
Metaneone, who was passing glad to see his Lady take pleasure in a beast, that seemed to participate of reason, imagined that this Island might be one of those, wherein was believed to be by authentical relations the transmutation of men into beasts; but yet keeping his thoughts to himself for fear of instilling of new fears into the mind of the Princess, he prayed her to give him leave to follow that Deer, sithence that she so evidently thereto invited him; which the Princess would not assent unto, aswell because she was loath to be without his company, as also for that she believed not, that these actions of the silly beast contained in them other mystery, than the content of her own nature. But observing her continue them, and too withal groan, as if she grieved to be disobeyed, she permitted him to go.  
The Dear seeing herself now followed, went on a little further, but no sooner perceived she herself not followed by Eromilia, than she came running back to her amain. Whereat she (marveling, and desirous to know the issue thereof) caused herself to be carried after her. The gentle beast led on a round pace, making sometimes an observant stand as if she meant to give time to be overtaken. And gotten out of the sight of the sea, she entered into a little, but very pleasant valley; where (ere she had gone two bow-shoots on) she stood still before a poor cottage, lying at the foot of a rock, rustically built of earth and faggots; at the door whereof stood playing with little sticks the best featured and fairest child that ever humane eye beheld; his age was about three years, his body covered with a rich habit, and his countenance clothed with a no less commanding than majestical physignomy. This sweet boy seeing so many folks, stood looking on them awhile, and then suddenly neglecting them, and turning to the fawne-wards (that played skipping and hopping round about him) he stroking her, made very much of her, and she of him.  
Whilst thus Eromilia (having forgotten all past discommodities) stood with her looks fixed on them, there came suddenly to them a Knight with a crossbow in his hand, and many birds in his fowling-bagge, who (having espied the Galleys) had left off his fowling, to come running to his lodging; his clothes (though not very good for being much torn) were all of silk, garnished and curiously embroidered over with gold; he seemed to be about five and and forty years of age, and had an aspect noble and courteous; his followers were no more than one servant not very young, with a bow and a hare on his neck. Both of them changed their colours seeing Metaneone with so many folks; and looking one upon the other, seemed with their eyes to express some great matter. The fashion of their habits was very strange, quite differing from those of neighbour regions, which descried them to be of some remote country.  
Eromilia impatient to stay till they would speak, seeing them so in a maze, said unto them; My friends, I believe that this unexpected sight of us, breeds in you no less astonishment, than the seeing you in so solitary a place hath stirred up wonder in us; but if your taciturnity spring from none other root than from that of admiration, in that you expected no such guests; then I pray you to forgo it wholly, for we are not persons to do you any injury, but rather to pleasure you and do you all the courtesies that lie in our power. Please you but tell us who you are, and whether this babe be your son, or that love (fearing his jealous wife) hath given him you to keep, to the end that he, being so reserved, may in time do such exploits, as might be expected from such as are descended from celestial Deiries.  
The Knight, who at first sight had not placed his eyes on other than Metaneone and his Knights, (because Eromilia exceedingly delighted in the babe was gotten to sit down by him) now observing her, and contemplating the appearances which denoted her greatness, he with a more settled countenance, said unto her; Madame, I cannot deny but that your coming into this strange and disinhabited place, strikes in us some admiration, this little Island not being inhabited of other than us alone, nor frequented but of such as are wind-driven hither, whether they will or no. Here see we never any other than Mariners and Fishermen, poor creatures, I will not say guided by fortune, but going to seek their fortune. Your quality seems to us much different, so as by reason of the diversity of ours, we cannot (in seeing you) tell what to judge thereof; when therefore it shall please you to let us know who you are, we will not fail to obey you, in what you command us, nor would we without great reason request that favour of you.  
Sir Knight (answered him the Princess) if that can satisfy you, there shall be no let in us to work your satisfaction. This whom you here see, is the Prince of Mauritania my Lord and husband, the other our knights; my name is Eromilia the King of Maiorica's only daughter, borne with a natural instinct to help men of merit, as you seem to be; hither are we come driven with the violence of the winds and for no other reason.  
The Knight (having already understood their cases by some poor folks that had been there, casting aside his crossbow) would have kissed their hands; but not being permitted so to do, especially by Metaneone, he besought them to enter in with him into his poor Caban, where he promised them a part (in private) to satisfy their desire. Already moved they themselves onwards to follow him, when there appeared from the Fleet in seemly order a great number of servants with divers dishes of meat and delicate cates of all sorts; which the knight perceiving, and comprehending by the tempest of the sea, that yet continued, what the matter was, he (laying aside all suspicion, which the sudden apparition of such a number had bred in him) said unto them; May it please you (excellent Princes) to give your bodies some comfort, ere you content your minds with the curiosity of our fortunes, the deferring whereof cannot so much trouble you, as the delaying of recreating and restoring your bodies after your past sufferings must needs prejudice you.  
Whereupon the Princess (more for the desire she had to rid herself of the company, than for any appetite) took some refection; the Prince doing also the same; entertained with the sweet demeanour of the noble babe; who neither caring for, nor yet despising the cates they gave him (though most delicate,) expressed a Royal gravity in the poverty of the place, far from such pettish wantonness as is usually in that age common to all children; he disdained not Eromilia's affectionate kisses, but being well pleased with them, would with a kind of a sweet willingness meet them as they were coming; her he contemplated, examining with a suspense of spirit, all her parts, her speech and gesture; observing her with admiration, not as a thing strange unto him, but out of a judgement mature enough to know her merits. Impossible it was to persuade the Knight to taste of any thing, who notwithstanding wanted not discreet manners and humble language, to defend himself from their enforcing courtesies; something he accepted of, which were only such as he saw liked by the child, of him respected not as a son, but as his Lord.  
By this time had the Prince's servants pitched some tents in the selfsame valley far from the sight and roaring of the sea (for such was the command of the Princess;) in one of them dined they, passing away the time there, till the Knight having dined with the others, and the tables taken away, they licensing for awhile their train walking ontowards the Caban; where entered in, they marvelled at its no less strange than rare architecture, for that which seemed to be but a cottage, was in appearance no other, but in effect served but to limit a secret and hidden dwelling. And to make no show of what was therein, there stood placed in it two poor beds of green leaves and boughs of trees, with a poor hearth and a homely chimney, which made such as came in, believe there was nothing else. But opening a door (that seemed to be a wall closed fast to the rock, built to keep off its moisture) there was an entry that led into a hollow vault of a soft mouldrie stone, under the superficies of a rock, which was divided into two partitions of lodgings; in the principal of them stood a square Hall with two fair lodging chambers and one back chamber: In the other lodgings were servants beds, sellers, wardrobes, and other●places and storehouses for necessary provisions, which might there be seen, not only copious, but also singular in their several kinds; and to illuminate the one and the other, stood placed in the midst of them, (compassing it in form of a Crown) a little court form by nature in the very rock, which by degrees opened itself to its very top with such a well-observed proportion, as art seemed to have lent a hand thereto. And because the rain trickled by several channels down to the bottom, there was form an ample cistern to receive it, the place being in its superior part inaccessible, and therefore unknown to any.  
The Hall (we speak of) was all hung with silk hangings of texture not seen before in Europe, being rich, strong, of various colours, incapable of spot or stain; and withal so lively as the reflection of the air from them, made the place more lightsome. The chambers adorned with cloth of tissue, had placed in one of them two beds of the same suit and fashion, in one whereof lay the child, in the other the Knight: their furniture were all precious, no side thereof wanting either rich curiosities, or riches, worthy (without curiosity) of the greatest Monarch; the tables were of silver of finest workmanship; the livery cupboards of gold inlaid with rich precious stones, with hourglasses of the same, but that the gold was brought to be of an inestimable value by the quality of the gems and oriental pearls inlaid therein; that which made up this wonder of rare curiosities, was, when between the two lodgings divisions, was opened a door covered with arras, wherethrough was an entrance leading into an odoriferous Chapel dedicated to the gods, whose Images were little, but all of massive gold, and so resplendent with the abundance of so many jewels that served for fringe to the rich tapestry wherewith it was hung, as there is not any King in the world that can boast of a treasure equal thereunto. In the midst of this Chapel in six fair lamps of most pure gold, burned a precious liquor, whence issued an odour so pleasingly sweet and delicate, as passed all fragrancy, dispersing itself over all the house to the great restoring and ravishing delight of the senses.  
So astonished were the Princes to see such an excellency of rarities, as they could never have their fill of beholding them; which to observe well would require a great deal of time, whereas that little time was taken up with variety, the variety with curiosity, the curiosity with art, and the art (being inimitable in all his parts) with its own excellency, so as the intellect (fixing itself, while on one, and while on another wonder of matter and workmanship) was carried about with a perpetual motion, from one to the other, remaining aggreeved for his being unperfect to judge of them. The hangings of the Hall (though but of silk simply) possessed (perhaps) some parts more worthy of contemplation than all the other riches, not so much for that they contained the maps of some countries done with all those exact proportions as are possible in art, as because they were fringed about with purple, its silk being died in the blood of beasts to us unknown, representing the natural colours with such vivacity, as there was not any money that could counter-value them. No other thing had been able to have removed the eyes of the Princes from beholding of these such eye-ravishing objects, the like whereof they had never seen before, than the longing desire (increased also by these circumstances) which they had to know the story of the babe; whom Eromilia having taken on her lap, and affectionately cherishing with a motherly tenderness, prayed the Knight to acquit himself of his promise, whereunto he showing himself obedient (as soon as they were sitten down) spoke in this form.  
Some eight years may be expired, sithence there chanced to come to the kingdom of Arabia the happy, the Prince of Artacana the youngest amongst the sons of the King of Parthia, who for his noble conditions was grown so famous, as there was not any Princess or Queen, that hearing of him desired not to see him, and seeing him, desired not to have and enjoy him; so that he whilst he lived a Knight Errant, had more ado with his love to satisfy women in their affections, than to succour them with his valour, which in him was more than ordinary. There reigned then in Arabia a right noble Queen, that had been some two years a widow, a woman of exquisite beauty and extolled modesty; no sons had she, but in their stead seven daughters, the elder whereof bred up with hope of succession she had then newly married to the Prince of Susiana, which marriage occasioned the coming thither of the Artacanan Prince, who borne to the exercise of arms and in them bred up (upon the bridegrooms invitation) came thither to honour his friend, and to make his fame by exercising of his person grow still more famous in the world, the affect of honour being somewhat a●kin to that of gold, whereof the more one hath the more he covets. It were too long to relate unto you the feats of arms he there performed, only I must tell you that valour, beauty, and bodily feature (qualities without paragon in him) held very ones mind in suspense, to judge whether they overcame or were overcome of courtesy and other virtues scated in the mind, which (though internal) twinkled forth sparkles that argued great flames of excellencies, not to be extinguished by any other humour whatsoever. The Queen who was then young (being not passing four and thirty years of age) grew to be so ardently enamoured of him, as no one place could long hold her; nor were the considerations of her being mother to so many daughters, & Lady of so many people, sufficient to extinguish this ardour of hers; but (like some combustible matter sprinkled over with oil) she burned more vigorously when she lighted on any reasons contrary to her desire. This o! this was it which made her neglect even her sleep and food; dragged by amorous furies a different way, she strove to defend herself from being conquered, and in the victory the excessive pains she took to obtain it, weakened her forces against the succeeding battle. She shunned the sight of him, and yet was sick to see them, and being so sick, would willingly have died, for not living sick perpetually, in that her modesty permitted her not to sue to him. In the mean time he (both honoured and beloved) held correspondency with all, which he well knew how to do; nay, it had gotten in him such a habit, as that he could not choose but do it. When he saw in himself any quality that he perceived to be in the Queen, he would joy thereat. It grieved him much to see her retired, judging the feasts and sports obscured by the privation of her presence, and that her grief alone was an universal contagion to the Universe. He went to see her, and grieved so to see her. Their language was not common (such having no place in persons of singular virtue) but accompanied with an internal affect of pity, followed with a sweet faintness of the heart, and waited on with manners Royal, and an expression able to captivate the most obdurate mind; forcible enough it was not to batter (for the breach thereof was made already) but to raze to the ground her constrained resolution, her loss making her know she was too weak to resist so many engines and so potent an enemy. At length because her modesty consented not to the giving up of that Fort unto any, which ever till then she had conserved, she deemed it her best course rather than to lose it, to yield it up upon honourable conditions; wherefore retiring herself into herself, and summoning her thoughts before the privy Council of her consideration, she came to see, that it ill-befitted not her age and beauty to take to her a husband, and too with all that the Prince of Artacana (being her equal though not his father's heir) was no inconvenient march for her. With this comforted, and resolved, (leaving her bed) she appeared at the solemnities with an excellent beauty, waited on with so rare perfections as engendered envy in her sex, but reverence and love, or rather a reverend love in any lover of beauty, luckily borne under an amorous influence.  
The Prince at that time exceeded not the age of four and twenty years, too young for the practice of the world, but not for the experience of love, that grew so fixed by affection (which by little and little was a building in him) in all the gestures of the Queen; as it was no difficult matter for him to perceive the fire that the fuel of his love maintained in her; but yet doubted he of being beguiled, for albeit he might assuredly have builded on the foundation of his own merits; yet modesty (one of the virtues that embellished him) made him chary in judging the best of himself, and much more in censuring the worst of others; being that such inclinations could not without some declination of honesty be presupposed to be (as he conceived in any woman whatsoever. An opinion sometimes false, but ever discourteous; which argument of his was far from the thought of marriage, knowing himself much younger than her, and she not only a mother of a numerous offspring, but also likely to be shortly a grandmother; wherein although he thought not himself deceived, yet determined he not to give himself over for all that as a prey to desire ere he knew that he were certain of his hope.  
The days of those feasts were for the most part spent in feats of Chivalry, masqueradoes, shows, dances, and hunt; and the residue in journeying: for seeing that the whole kingdom, would needs partake thereof, it was the Queen's pleasure, that the four months destined to that end, should be stored amongst the four royal cities, which were Omano the Metropolitan city placed in the midst of the Kingdom; Zabra situate (as it were) under our Tropic; Saba in the extremity of the Arabian creek, and Carma beyond the Sudmaritan mountains; nor was the time spent in journeying reckoned in this account, because every of them would needs feast their Queen their full month out, lodging and entertaining her Court with all its followers, without any charge at all to the Exchequer. By which occasion also all such strangers as were flocked thither, saw all that part of the kingdom, where grew the aromatical and sweet-smelling spices, which is in the Sabeian, Mineian and Scalal●tan quarters, to such passing recreation of the senses, that such of them as had been professed travellers, protested, that they never gusted the pleasantness of any journey with such a ravishing content, as humane sense might imagine it held conformity with the divine essence, excepting this only, the odours of Myrrh, Incense, and Balsam, (in the place where they grow, and where every one may with his hands gather them) far supassing the odours of the same simples transported any where else. the very air there, being also situate under so fortunate a clime, as it breathes nought else but sweet odours, nor distils other than right precious balms; nay more, the impartiall-seeming Sun which in the same parallel in other places melts and kills, there vivifies and recreates. And the hue of the inhabitants countenances which in Arabia the desert, (though many degrees more northerly) are gloomy and swarffee, are here nevertheless clear and lively. If then among the pleasures of so delightful a climate, among the commodities of a terrene Paradise, amongst the allurements of feasts & revel, and occasion of journeyings love had not commodity, passage, and place to lodge itself in, we must needs believe him to be rather deprived of judgement, than hood-winked.  
The marriage was celebrated in Carma, a place for all the neighbouring parts most commodious; there ended the Queen her month, and there also shook she off her sickness.  
The Prince of Artacana grew to be extraordinarily altered from what he was wont to be, to the no small grief of the Prince of Susiana, who for having invited him thither, thought himself obliged to entertain him in such manner, as melancholy might get no seat in him, he oftentimes would ask him what ailed him, when the other putting on a merry countenance, strove to conceal with its occasion the effect thereof. The Prince of Susiana sought every way to procure his content, and thinking that the conversation of Ladies might delight him, he had no great ado to frame a College (as I may say) of the fairest of them, whereof some in stead of recreating and curing of him grew by him to be infected.  
The Queen (having with an amorous prudence examined all things with herself) aimed rightly at the occasion of his alteration; so as she glad thereof, began to hope for some good issue to her desires; but yet (desirous that the matter might be first broken, either by him, or by some other accident) she had the patience to expect the occasion of parting thence.  
Now to go to Omano, they were to pass the mountain in a chair, at the foot whereof were to stand ready their coaches. Descended then from the mountain, the Queen (under pretext of the great heat) would have none in hers but the two younger girls; whereupon the Prince of Susiana (who desired to be alone with his bride) came to her and told her, that there was no coach for the Prince of Artacana, nor was there any provided for him, because it was thought her Majesty would have honoured him with a place in hers. She excusing herself for not having thought of it, taking him by the hand made him come and sit by her of one side, causing the two little Princesses to pass over to the other.  
This Queen bare in her countenance (placed there by nature) an awing Majesty, whereby though she had not been borne a Queen, she would have been reputed for such, for that she seemed with it to teach reverence and respect. The Prince (docible in such like disciplines) learned them in an instant but unlearned himself; for losing his colour and speech (as a man suddenly oppressed with a great fit of likeness) he remained deprived of all motion. The Queen (intending to inquire of him how he like her country, seeing him now in so profound a maze, laying aside the fair colours which she carried in her countenance, and borrowing of his pale and bloodless hue) said hastily unto him; What is this I see, My Lord? Are you sick, and yet conceal your malady? Do you take me (perhaps) to be so discourteous as not to deferte my journey for your good, if your health so required it? Upon which words she intending to bid the coach return; the Prince (revived with the sound of that voice with his eyes big with child of a captivated pity, a weeping discoverer of his amorous disease) returned her this answer.  
Madame, I beseech you by the same courtesy, by whose means my imagination is by you made innocently guilty, not to break off for me your intended progress; I cannot deny myself to be sick, though my disease be of such a nature that the more rest it hath, the more it increaseth: there is no other way for me to overcome it but by suffering, which although it cannot be cured, yet should a Knight being not able to chase it away, endure it the best he may. For this occasion then, and not for any diffidence of your royal courtesy, have I concealed it, howbeit it was never so presumptuous a blab (though for all that mute) as now it is. True it is, that I must excuse it because it seeing no possibility of being cured otherwise than by the hand of a goddess, believing (and that peradventure rightly) that you are that deity, hath made bold to invoke you. The Queen made no present answer, but after a short pause said thus unto him;  
I never yet heard (My Lord) of a disease of that nature; and though I believe that the gods can (when they will) cure all diseases, yet am I somewhat dubious in believing, that such a cure be reserved, either more to the one than to the other, or to a goddess rather than to a god; but though it were granted that it could so be, yet how can your disease wanting the discourse of reason believe me to be a goddess; or how can you say (that perhaps it believed rightly) knowing me for a woman?  
That the gods (Madam) have divided their offices and government (replied the Prince) cannot (I believe) be doubted of: and this perceive we plainly in the visible gods; the one meddles not with the others business, be it either to help or hurt the things created; only they may because of their benign nature, with their aspects mitigate the evil effects of such, which being of a divers nature think but of harming us. That a disease hath understanding though it want discourse cannot be denied, unless the natural relation among creatures be denied also; for how doth blood gush out of the wound of a dead corpse in its murderer's presence, wanting discourse, nay (which is more) not having as much as sense? It must be then needs granted me, that all things either by power of an internal sympathy, or by relation (as we may say) of another thing to the same (in some manner) correspondent may without understanding, understand, and without will, will. In that I therefore believe that my malady perhaps mistakes not itself in thinking you to be a goddess I can say nothing, because I know not what to say. But the Queen soliciting him to make particular answer to this point, as he had done to the rest, (not by any means allowing of his excuses) got him at length to confess unto her, that indeed his disease was love; but that the quality of his Lady was so divine, as that it deprived him not only of all hope that his service would ever be accepted of, but also of all courage of presuming to make it known unto her, which he durst not attempt for fear of the thunder of her disdain, and that that accident had then befallen him, because his heart seeing her hold so great a conformity in all things with the Lady of his life, and taking her for the same indeed, was moved to implore her gracious assistance; nor thought it itself deceived, aswell because his Lady was a goddess, as also because it could perceive no essential difference between the one and the other. The Queen, perceiving well what he meant, and yet resolved to get it plainly out of him, told him there was no Lady free, and at her own dispose that had cause to refuse the service of so noble and virtuous a Knight as he was, unless she were a married wife, such a one having indeed a good cause of excuse; whereto he answering her, that she was a widow; she replied, that widows might lawfully remarry. In fine, the end of their discourse was the reciprocal discovery of their affection, with the appointment of their marriage to be managed with such means as might best befit her modesty and credit; a conclusion that wrought in their hearts extreme content not to be changed for the possession of the whole world.  
The overjoyed Queen now assured of the affection of her beloved Prince, grew fairer every day than other, and come to Omano, passed there right happily her destinated month. fain would the Prince have written unto his father to send him thither forthwith Ambassadors to demand her; whereunto she (with whom love prevailed not so much, but that modesty prevailed yet more) would by no means consent; to the Prince his so great torment, as he thought himself unable to support it. Whereas she founding the fact with more maturity, considered that the world (omitting the considerations of her being both a woman and young withal, and therefore subject (as others were) to common passions) would have said that she married only to spite her daughter.  
The feasts ended, she licenced him with all the rest: he having all that time so behaved himself, that though he were enamoured, young, and full of fire, yet was there not any that could take notice of his pretensions; and although he served her with extraordinary diligence and that in tourneys he carried her Impresa and favours, and that she did him besides the public favour to term him her Knight; nevertheless the opinion of modesty in her, and discretion in him being great, suffered 〈◊〉 those his demeanours to be deemed other than 〈◊〉 of Chivalry, and of service due rather to a Lady than to love.  
Come home, he communicated his design to the King his father and to the Parthian Prince his brother, who as soon as they had understood of the Prince of Susiana's return home with his bride, were not slack to send to the Queen a noble embassage, which they willed to be expressed in presence of the Council. The obstacles in this business were three; all of them of moment, whereof the least was the quantity of daughters; of the other two the less important was the jealousy and by consequence the enmity of the Prince of Susiana; the last and greatest of all was the danger of stirring up rebellion in Arabia the desert, whereof her late husband (the father of the girls) having been natural King, it was to be doubted whether that people would ever obey a new King in prejudice of the Princess of Sasiana their legitimate Queen, as her, who of the daughters was the eldest.  
To the first was answered, that a male being more convenient and necessary to the Realm than a female, and a natural home-born native more fit than a stranger; the marriage of the Queen was approved to be, not only laudable, but necessary.  
To the second, that the Prince of Susiana (being the Artacan Prince his friend) had no reason to dislike of this alliance; and though he were more wedded to the hope of that kingdom, than to its Princess till then presumed to be heiress; nevertheless there was not by this match any thing of his taken from him, because there having been neither promise nor mention made of giving him the kingdom for a Dower, he was not bereavest of the hope of having it, in case there sprung not from these nuptials any heirs male; and if he would not be thus satisfied with reason, yet was there no cause to fear him, considering the greatness of the kingdom, the valour of the Prince of Artacana, and the force of the Parthians apt upon any occasion to invade Susiana.  
To the third, finding neither reason nor pretext, was said, that it lay not in the Queen's power either to give her new husband the title of King of the other Arabia, nor yet (in case she married) to retain it herself, it being not hers, but her daughters; adding, that as they besought her to marry, that so she might give them a lawful Lord; so desired they her to be also pleased in the self same time to cede that kingdom, to whom it of right descended.  
With this the marriage was concluded on, and the kingdom of Arabia the desert granted to the Prince of Susiana (who, for all the inviting that he and his wife had to come to the celebration of the marriage would by no means come;) and Artacana proclaimed and crowned King of that Realm with general applause and public satisfaction; but little could she or the kingdom enjoy him, for within four years' time death took him away in the fairest flower of his years, & in the greatest expectation of prowess that might be hoped for of any Prince of that age. Grievous then above all griefs was the grief of the more than grievously grieved Queen, insomuch as no persuasions could prevail to take out of her arms the dead corpses, her often swooning kept her alive by making her become unsensible of the sharpness of the pain which she felt, without which she had irrevocably accompanied him. But (alas) ' 'twas not here that her misfortunes ended; for having left her by her husband two babes, the one a boy (which is this here) and the other a girl; there was stirred up (a little after the King's death) an insurrection in the Realm, in the favour of the clder Princess. In that time were the Parthians troubled by the Medes, and our King (when he sickened) was about to go in person to the aid of his father, who hath by this time (I believe) made an end of losing his state and whole Dominions. Susiana seeing himself therefore assured of his, on that part, and withal rid of a competitor; having with gifts and promises made up a strong faction in his mothers-in-law kingdom, thought by laying hold on this occasion to become absolute Lord thereof. Of his first motion the Queen was not much afraid, either because, she having by the loss of her husband been accustomed and used to the supremest of evils had no feeling of lesser; or for that she relying upon the having of a male-legitimate heir, cared little therefore, but gave her General commission to go pacify the insurrection.  
These Rebels with the greatest part of the other Barons who (whether it were that they scorned to serve a babe in his swathing bands, or for any hopes of better advancement, under a King great of State, and well stricken in years) accorded to receive him; whilst he with a great army quartered on the cofines of the two Arabiaes, resolved he would be declared apparent heir (after the Queen) of that kingdom, excluding by name Coralbo (for so is this unfortunate child called) in spite of all such as opposed him. Very few were those that stuck to the Queen's side, all following the fortune of the son-in-law, with the pretext of the Princess, by this time fruitful of three sons; so as the poor distressed Queen counselled by necessity, was fain to forgo his son's title; but perceiving though too late, that this could not make up her good sons-in-law content, and that Coralbos life was that which he aimed at, she sent him to the strong castle of Cardamina; when he waxen wroth to see him so reprieved from his barbarous cruelty, unmasking himself now, and promising his sisters-in-law with great Dowries to many Princes, had the heart to deprive his mother-in-law of her kingdom; the death of his wife giving him occasion so to do, who whilst she lived would never consent either to the deposing of her mother, or the death of her brother. Established then with the title of his sons; the deposed Queen (of every one pitied too late) considering how that Cardamina (whither she was retired) could not be long able to withstand the Tyrant's force, calling me unto her.  
Sotiro my beloved Cousin (said she) I know you conceive the miserable estate whereto fortune hath reduced me, I am now without either husband or kingdom, and am also like enough to be shortly without a son too. In such losses as these (for which I should have died) I have conserved myself alive, to the end that at every new breathing I might lively feel them all: my kindred and servants have all forsaken me, you only (dear Cousin) have left and lost all to accompany and comfort me, so that it is not the least among my griefs to know the disproportion that is between your fidelity and my present state, for not being able to reward you, yet will I nevertheless give you so efficacious a token of my gratitude (though the receiving of it can be to you but a great trouble) that you will confess it lies not in my power to give you more, in the case I am in at this present. With that, taking the child, and laying it in my arms, she stood a good while without opening her mouth, plunged in a sea of tears, till at last she said unto me, This is that, which I promised you, the sole Relic of my felicities and only comfort of all my losses and miseries, which I must lose to myself that it be not lost to the world; here is no place for him (poor Infant) no King or Prince, to whose trust I may commit him; you only dare I boldly trust him with. Upon this (rising off her seat, and I following her with the babe in my arms) she led me into a great tower, where we found so much riches, jewels and coin, as I remained thereat astonished, opening unto me afterwards the places shut up, and my wonder thereat increasing; Cousin (said she) I would bid you take all that you here see, if the carriage of it would not endanger you; take therefore all that you think may stead and serve you, yet must you make account that what you take, must (without any more) be the patrimony of my poor son, and the stay of your loyalty, myself not knowing either what shall become of me, or whether I shall ever find any means of sending you any more. And as she was about to tell me somewhat touching the education she would have me give him, she was seized on by so great a flood of tears, as her unfinished conceits were by her sobbings limited with this only, Do you.  
Whereupon I (transformed into her grief, though most unapt to comfort her) strove (the best I could) to speak something to her; but she soliciting me to depart with such speedy earnestness, as if the Tyrant had been at the gates, I went and choosed out of the treasure what liked me best, and taking up the babe got me to Arsinoe; where landing in a Merchant's habit, having with me the riches signed up in divers packs with merchants marks, I passed to the Nile descending on it at my leisure to the sea, where boarding a good shop, I sought for a settling place over all the Mediterranean Lands, but being wind-driven hither, and finding here a great heard of goats with this Deer amongst them, I wondered to see her so gently fawn upon me without any fear at all; so as I judging this a fit place for my purpose, called it (because of the goats) Capraia; and finding this mouldrie stone easy to be wrought, I sent for workmen from Liguria, who in a short time made me the house you here see, wherein I will do my best to conceal this disinherited Prince. I brought along with me three right faithful servants, one my own, the others given me by the Queen; but because I never wrote unto her more than once from Arsinoe, I sent her (some three months sithence) one of them to bring her news of us, not so much for discharge of my duty as to know what state she now is in, and to see, if there be any likelihood of any hope of our return; wherein if there appear an impossibility, I intent to continue here, till such time as the child grow to be able to exercise horse and arms; by that time, suspicions ceased, myself grown aged, he well grown up, and both of us altogether unkend and quite forgotten, I will endeavour to bring him elsewhere, that fortune may not together with his kingdom deprive him of those fruits the world is like to reap from his (truly Royal) inclinations. And this (excellent Princes) is all that you desired to know, which I beseech you to account as not spoken; nor had your Royal dignities been sufficient to have made me become thereof confident enough, if your aspects carried not engraven in them the merits of your virtues worthy to be the cabinet of so great a secret.  
Eromilia hugging the babe close to her fair breast, with kissing it a thousand times, could not contain herself from weeping; fain would she have prayed Sotiro to go along with her to have him bred up in her Court, if she had thought to have obtained him; which proffer she and Metaneone both made him, with expression how desirous they were thereof, but he humbly thanking her, told her, that he would find a time to come with him to see and serve her. The three days that the tempest lasted, passed the Princess pleasantly on this Rock, with the sweet-pleasing company of Coralbo; which expired, she (commending him to the gods) departed with her husband.  
In a short time arrived they at Caleri met by Polimero, and welcomed by Eromena, conformable to the dignity of their estates and community of their affections; whence they could not part for many days after the marriage, although the King of Mauritania had by often messages solicited their return; till at length Polimero also, (desirous to pay the tribute of the duty that he owed his father) having gotten leave of his father-in-law to take along with him Eromena, they (accompanied with Eleina) went on their intended voyage for Mauritania, where being arrived, they were received with such pomp and joy, as greater can not be described.  
The old King seeing his sons thus well matched, and Polimero so well provided for and settled, joyed for the hope he had to see issue from them a fair posterity, which he was so fortunate, as to see spring from both of them: for Eromilia about four months then after was brought to bed of a boy. Whilst Eromena knowing herself to be with child, thought to return home, being sent for by her father; but the entreaties of her parents and brothers-in-law were so importunate as it was not possible for her to return, and the Ambassadors sent thence to Sardegna got (with much difficulty) leave for her to stay there somewhat longer; her time being come, she was brought to bed of a daughter, whose features were both so fair and manly, that the sight of her bred no less delight than wonder in the hearts of all that saw her. And too withal nature itself (which in engendering amazement proceeds with unaccustomed means) now in her operations exceeded her ordinary bounds; for two or three nights before her birth were heard all over the Palace and through the streets of the city a pleasing murmur, as that of voices and instruments, that carried to the ear an unusual sweetness of harmony; beguiling many, (who went through the lodgings to seek for it) with others who went out of their houses, thinking to find it abroad.  
The day she was borne on, there was no man that minded his own business, but every man (drawn by an unknown affect) forsook his shop, whilst the sacred temples shone with sacrifices and devout worshipping. Never was there seen over all Africa a more temperate day, or a more sweetly-warming Sun than was then; Orange, Lemon, and Cedar-trees that never budded before, now blossomed abundantly, yielding at that birth their fruit in all maturity and perfection. The gentle Dolphins ran sporting themselves nimbly in the sea, chase to the land whole armies of fish, which the inhabitants took with no less joy than amazement: an old well or deep wintch (that at first was sunk in the castle of Birsa for the commodity of the Garrison, and was (for being found afterwards with salt water in it) dedicated to Neptune) boiled all the night long, becoming in the following morning so sweet, as it excelled in goodness the best waters in that Country.  
Full glad was Eromena to hear of such things, acknowledging her thanks to heaven for doing them in the favour of her girl. Congratulations she received not as a woman in childbed, but as a Captain vanquissant of a battle. Many times and often kissed she her sweet babe, who without either crying or weeping, beheld steadfastly the fair light of the world; by no means possible would the sweet little one endure the swathing bands, but would with a lovely fierceness push them off her. No other dugs would she touch, saving those of her mothers; wherein though they thought to beguile her (by Eromena's holding her in her arms, and others reaching her a dug,) yet she informed by the instinct of nature would shut up close her pretty mouth, choosing rather to die for hunger than to be nursed with other milk than her mothers. She would (by all means) be obeyed in all things, and fain were they (whether they would or not) to let her have her will, to the passing content of her grand-parents, leaving at her parting so great a longing after her, as the expectations from her exceeded that of all the girls that ever were borne in Africa.  
Polimero with his Eromena departed thence, leaving every one sad for their privation; who arrived in Sardegna, settled themselves to the ordering of the Relame-affaires. Whose strange adventures and rare feats of chivalry, together with other things in this Book unfinished, shall be writ in the Story of Donzella-desterrada, or the Exiled Virgin.   
FINIS.